Chapter 2 - Wardroom Debate

Wardroom of the Nicodemus

Admiral Jerral Kerensky Starport, Novaterra, Union of Federated Systems

Saturday, 15 September 3488

            The deep silence was only punctuated by the droning hum of the starship’s environmental systems, as eight crew members sat with rapt attention locked on Captain Judith Rigby. They were now seated around the long wardroom table of Rigby’s Ganymede-class freighter Nicodemus, their crude yet comfortable home in the stars. Nobody spoke as they all processed the succinct retelling of the meet with Partash Vess down at the Kallikak an hour earlier, along with the long-awaited conclusion which Rigby had drawn from Vess’s assumed subterfuge.

            “I’m still failing to understand the leap in logic,” Grunted the impossibly deep voice of Theck. Tobias turned an eye on the absurdly large man seated beside him, muscles barely bound by the undersized tunic he was wearing. Theck sat confounded as a schoolboy in the much-too-small chair, deferentially waiting for the explanation of the much smaller Judith Rigby to his right. Tobias would have found it comical if not for the fact that he too was just as confounded as his crewmate.

            “I’m going to have to agree with the big guy,” He said. “How did you go from ‘Euphemia Sethell ran away’ to ‘Euphemia Sethell was kidnapped’?”

            The eyes of eight different beings returned to Captain Rigby, seated in her usual place at the head of the wardroom table. From the expression on her face, she clearly expected the pushback and had her clarification prepared. Clearing her throat, she leaned in, folding her hands on the tabletop.

            “First off, I only said that kidnapping was a distinct possibility, not definite fact. Second, the fact that Euphemia disappeared with a boy nobody’s ever heard about is very telling. In operations like kidnapping, gaining the victim’s trust and isolating them from others is usually step one. And third, both of Vess’ stories were clear on the point that Euphemia ran away, but they different in substance. Initially, he told us that she ran away with her new boyfriend, then changed it to add that bit about someone in Senator Sethell’s staff having been complicit in helping leak information used in Euphemia’s extracurricular political activities. As I indicated at the bar, Partash has yet to give us the whole truth.”

            “There is a wide chasm between the half-truths of a politician and a kidnapping,” Chimed in the modulated voice of Doc, the crew’s in-house medical expert. Tobias saw that the Irannoid had only four arms on the tabletop, his lowest pair dipping below the table to his lap. Undoubtedly, he had his medical holopad down there, working at whatever it was he did on that thing day-in and day-out. Some of his many eyes were locked on the holopad while the rest were focused on Rigby, the species’ multitasking ability on full display. “Unless you suspect that there was something else to be read between his words?” The Irannoid’s mouth mandibles moved as he chittered the species’ language, however unlike those of the same species down in the hive, the Doctor wore the chest-mounted translation device which automatically produced the nearest Galactic Standard equivalent.

            “You have to admit though, it is a bit strange that he went looking for our help,” Xanthe pointed out from Tobias’ left. She had long since reverted from her cherry-haired disguise back to her natural Quorthwenne appearance, Human-like but with pink skin and sharp, angular features. Her long white hair fell against her shoulders, dancing as she turned her head towards Rigby. “What was it you said, Captain? ‘Calling in an orbital strike to serve a parking ticket’?”

            Tobias rolled his head side-to-side, recalling that exact point brought up by Rigby to Partash Vess. “Right, I agree that it’s strange he came to us. We are undoubtedly a bit overqualified to go looking for a runaway teenager.” He granted, having voiced his own reservations back at the bar.

            “And that’s the crux of the issue,” Rigby said. She held up the scrap of paper which Partash Vess had given her. All that was on it was a scribbling of numbers which looked like a comms code, along with a haphazard string of various letters and symbols. “Putting aside the fact that Partash gave me a piece of physical paper for contact and not anything digital – to keep it untraceable, I imagine – the number in question has an intelligence prefix. Union Intelligence, to be exact.”

            Tobias suddenly sprang to attention at that new piece of information, something just becoming clear to him as he caught part of the number. He had seen that prefix before – two Galactic Standard letters followed by a number, and then a character in the crude Vorrishi alphabet. “Let me see that,” He said, reaching out a hand for the paper. The Captain slid it across to him, and he picked it up, studying it closely. “I’ll be. That’s a CivInt code, alright.” Acronyms and shorthand were second-nature in militaries of all sorts, allowing soldiers to quickly communicate concepts which would otherwise take several seconds to speak. While trivial in the civilian world, a few wasted seconds could mean the difference between receiving medical evac in time or certain death on the battlefield. In this case, the comms prefix on the paper indicated “CivInt”, or “civilian intelligence”. Tobias tensed up, recalling with little fondness the petty squabbles and territorial rivalries which had formed between the civilian and military side of the Union’s intelligence gathering apparatus, and how many times it had cost him and his squad headaches during the war.  

            “That mean the UIB is involved? Or FedSec?” Theck asked, looking to Tobias.

            “Difficult to say,” He replied. “They both use the same prefixes for internal consistency, so I couldn’t assume one over the other.” The two mentioned – the UIB and FedSec – were the most likely culprits, regardless. The Union Intelligence Bureau was responsible for foreign operations, while the Federal Security Bureau had domestic policing and intelligence-gathering responsibilities.

            “Neverthelss,” Rigby continued. “It’s very interesting that Partash isn’t using the normal secure diplomatic channels for this one, so whatever is going on is something that they’re trying to keep very deeply under wraps, even from their own people.”

            “Or especially from one certain Senator.” Piped up Aves, the brown-haired man sitting as straight as a freshly graduated cadet, with a humorless expression to go with it.

            Tobias nodded, understanding where the Talosian was going with this. “From Senator Sethell, you mean.”

            Aves’ head bobbed tersely. “For the record I’m still not convinced there’s anything else going on here, but if there was and Vess knew, it’d make sense to keep it from Sethell. The politically savvy thing to do would be to keep it from everyone, most of all the one closest to the situation emotionally. Typical democratic politicking.” Tobias didn’t miss the humorous gleam in the man’s dark eyes at that one, and Tobias offered a half smirk in response. Even in the wardroom, under the watchful eye of Judith Rigby, their perpetual debate on monarchy versus republicanism continued.  

            Xanthe made a dramatic retching sound. “I’d like to modify my assessment of our contact. Him and his boss are a pair of haetchfwerr.” She said, using a particularly favorite Quorthwenne curse of hers, something which Tobias had been brought to learn was somewhere between ‘excrement’ and ‘bastard’. No sooner did the curse leave the young woman’s lips than Tobias saw her face turn a distinct shade of scarlet, her eyes falling unconsciously on the empty chair between Aves and Rigby. “Sorry…” She muttered to its nonexistent occupant.

            Tobias turned a grin to Xanthe. “For what it’s worth, you’re doing better,” He offered. For the past several months she had been trying to cut back on her foul-mouthed tendencies and had tasked Father Thomas Wexler – the usual occupant of the empty chair – as the one to keep her accountable. Unfortunately for her the Jesuit’s duties had summoned him back to Rome for a retreat, leaving the crew with limited access to his spiritual functions, and Xanthe without her accountability partner. Xanthe returned an appreciative smile to him.

            “The priest isn’t here, you can let your mouth run for once in your life,” This gruff, growl-like voice came through choppy and with a digital buzz to it. Glancing past Xanthe – whose smile had vanished at the comment, along with any lingering embarrassment – Tobias caught the sputtering hologram of their only remote call-in, the shimmering pale figure of the Parfful Javyar projected into the seat. The feline humanoid sat leaned back into whatever chair was at his current location, which had the added effect of causing the hologram to clip through the wardroom chair it was projected into. This gave the impression of Javyar being sliced in two.

            “Some of us would rather not give into our base temptations, unlike you,” Xanthe bit out at the hologram.

            The Parfful ran a fur-covered, claw-like finger along one of his whiskers, cat-eyes not even looking to Xanthe, but instead something beyond their vision. He started to speak the beginning of some snarky response, but the sound was lost amidst the poor connection as the hologram sputtered and winked in and out.

            “Where are you at, Jav?” Tobias asked, appraising the Parfful. The connection was very spotty, something nearly unheard of in most corners of civilized Union space, Novaterra most of all. “Your reception is terrible.”

            “Shepard,” Javyar replied, his words coming through with a buzz as he referred to the first of Novaterra’s many resort moons. “The beaches and clubs are the place to be this time of year, unfortunately there’s a nasty storm blowing its way through. Bad for communicating.”

            “Oh, poor you,” Xanthe said insincerely. “We came here on business, not for a vacation.”

            Javyar grinned a row of sharp teeth. “I’ll be back by morning your time; no reason to get all upset about it. I had a few friends of mine to catch up with, while I was in-system.”

            “By ‘friends’ I presume you mean unsuspecting women whom you’re looking to prey upon?” Xanthe shot back. Javyar didn’t retort the accusation, instead holding that sly grin.

            “Let’s keep things in focus,” Rigby said, bringing the conversation back to the forefront. “Javyar, I think it would be a good idea to hop on the first shuttle back.”

            Javyar’s hologram froze for a split-second mid-nod. “Already on it, Captain. I’ll be on my way back to Novaterra as soon as the meeting concludes.”

            “Good,” The Captain replied.

            “I did have one other thing – an actual comment, about this inane job you’ve set us up with.” Javyar was quick to cut in.

            More than one face around the table was disturbed at the careless way in which Javyar had spoken to Rigby, but if the Captain felt it, she didn’t show it. “Go on.”

            “Simply put, none of this kidnapping or danger talk has me impressed. The way I see it, the kid’s being a stupid kid, running off with her new paramour. I imagine they’re probably long-since to CygFive by now, running up her father’s credit card on booze and gambling.”

            As the crew pondered that one, a new angle came to Tobias’ imagination. “What if we’re looking at this the wrong way? What if the twist is that there is no boyfriend?” A few murmurs broke out across the room.

            “You’re going to have to explain that one,” Theck said.

            Tobias leaned back in his chair, meeting eyes with the impassive gaze of the Captain. He had spent enough time with her to read that expression and knew that while she didn’t necessarily agree with that assessment, she was interested to be proven wrong. “It’s just a theory, but the only evidence we have to his existence is the letter and call, and that’s it. As far as we know, nobody’s seen him, and Euphemia in a relationship with someone not known in the usual political circles is a change of MO.”

            “You think there’s a chance she made it up?” Doc asked.

            Tobias shrugged. “Either that, or she’s under some sort of duress, hence kidnapping.” The more and more he thought about it – even if this theory was untrue – the more something a nefarious conclusion seemed compelling. He granted that change came more from Rigby’s clear insistence than anything else, her sometimes outlandish hunches commonly having some grain of truth in them.

            “Hold on, hold on,” Sputtered Javyar’s hologram. “I’ll grant that maybe this is some sort of political stunt, but there’s still one large thing missing that would convince me that this is a kidnapping.” A dangerous look came to his eyes. “Where’s the ransom demand? Anyone worth their salt as a kidnapper would know that a senator whose been in the game as long as Sethell would have plenty of disposable income lying around. Any one-time crook looking for an easy payday would have already put in several calls in the time she’s been missing.”

            “You speaking from experience?” Xanthe cut in.

            Aves poorly worked to stifle a snort. “I think a pair of Parfful currently serving a life sentence on Tatarion for attempting to kidnap the infant son of a Talosian noble would agree that yes; Javyar is speaking from experience.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.

            Javyar dramatically leaned forward, as if to slam his palms down on the table. Thanks to the hologram, his hands instead clipped through the tabletop up to his wrists. “There’s no proof that I ever had anything to do with that sort of thing.” From the shifting of his eyes from Aves to the head of the table, he wasn’t sure whether Javyar was attempting to convince him, or Rigby.

            “Right,” Xanthe replied. “Of course you didn’t.”

            “Those Talosians already tried to put me on trial for it, but there wasn’t enough evidence to convict.” Javyar continued. “Because it doesn’t exist.”

            Tobias grinned. Rigby hadn’t allowed the Parfful a place on their crew without doing her due diligence, scrounging up the juiciest tidbits in Javyar’s sordid past. Tobias had been there for that and knew the correct answer to this debate. “Was that before or after that witness dropped out due to intimidation? And was it your lawyer who was caught destroying evidence?”

            Javyar growled lowly. “I told that fool to keep his hands to himself. The best Felxaran tech would have been able to tear that comms device apart, and wouldn’t have found out that…” He paused suddenly, the animated emotion vanishing from his face. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and waved a hand. “We’re getting unfocused again, I think.”

            Xanthe sneered. “Captain, why do we keep this haetchfwerr around?” She grimaced again, having let the curse slip out. Her eyes returned to Father Thomas’ empty chair, where she shut them and dropped her voice to barely a whisper. “Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis peccatoribus…”

            “To answer your question,” Rigby pointed to Javyar. “There hasn’t been a ransom demand; but the existence of that would depend on the purpose for the kidnapping. If it was for a payout, then I agree. The lack of such is telling. But if there is another endgame, something pertaining to the signing of the Entente later this week perhaps, then ransom wouldn’t necessarily be forthcoming.”

            “And to answer your question,” Tobias said, indicating Xanthe. “We keep him around because Jav over there has his uses when it comes to crawling into the underworld for information and intel. Takes one to know one.” He held his grin, which Javyar matched with one all-the-more sinister.

            “Mind you, all of this is pure conjecture,” Rigby continued. “Kidnapping is one possibility, but we need more information in order to make a more educated guess.”

            “Might I suggest we meet with the senator himself?” Theck asked. “They way we can try and learn more about the situation.”

            “Agreed,” Tobias added. “Is it time for a vote?” He looked to the Captain, who had the sole power to call such a thing under their informal command structure. She nodded, which sent all eyes to Theck, sitting in the spot for the first vote.

            “Hmph,” The large man said, crossing his thick arms. “Given the question of the girl’s whereabouts and potential of danger, I’ll vote ‘aye’.”

            Eyes fell to Tobias next. He carefully considered his position, though had come to a conclusion halfway through this discussion. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little more amenable to help now that I’ve heard the Captain’s concerns. I’ll vote ‘aye’, with the added caveat that we follow through with that meet first thing in the morning. If this turns out to be some wild dragon hunt or something, then we get out as quickly as we can.”

            The question now fell to Xanthe. “My mind was made up at the bar. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we do nothing and something happens to this girl. Aye.”

            Javyar scoffed. “You’re all so predictable. No hard evidence other than intuition and guesswork, and still you righteous types are jumping at the opportunity for martyrdom. You don’t have me fooled; given that I’m still not convinced and that I have no love for the good senator, I’m voting ‘nay’.”

            Xanthe shot him a look. “Anything to keep lounging on your beach, drinking and whoring, is that it? I swear, if something happens to that girl and we aren’t there to help because of you…”

            Javyar chuckled. “Voter intimidation, is it? How fitting. My vote stands.”

            “Next,” Rigby said. There was a pause, as all eyes fell to the end of the wardroom table, where their final crewmember – silent throughout the entire discussion thus far – sat.

            At the opposite head of the table from Rigby sat Brextallor, their Proximan tech. The being sat slouched in the chair, the rough skin on his round, bald head barely visible over the holopad his face was buried in.

            “Hey!” Javyar called, one of his translucent arms swatting at the Proximan’s shoulder. Thanks to being a hologram, the hand passed straight through without contact. The action did seem to snatch Brex’s attention, as the holopad slowly lowered to reveal the dark, pit-like eyes of the Proximan.

            A rough approximation of the “gray” aliens described in pre-space Old Terran mythologies, Proximans stood anywhere from three-and-a-half to five feet tall, their hairless form made up of rough skin stretched over bones, giving them an almost-skeletal appearance. Their defining characteristics were their many-fingered hands and large, bulbous heads, and distinct coloring which ranged anywhere from a dark grey to a pale green. Proximan eyes were naught but dark pits, which always made it difficult to tell where one was looking at any given moment. The Nicodemus’ resident Proximan had the unusual shade of power-blue to his skin, and a somewhat vacant look in those empty eyes.

            “Were you speaking to me?” Came Brex’s voice, a twinge of annoyance mixed in with what was clear boredom.

            “Sorry to interrupt your…whatever in the hell it is you were doing,” Grunted Javyar.

            “It’s your turn to vote,” Aves reminded him. “Are you ‘aye’ or ‘nay’?”

            Brex’s head rotated in Aves’ direction, and his unblinking eyes seemed to focus on him. “I must have missed it,” He said. “What is it we are talking about?” A collective sigh echoed over the wardroom. Tobias shook his head, always amazed at Brex’s capacity to pay next to no attention to anything but his own work.

            It was the generated sigh of the Doctor which followed through with an explanation. “The daughter of a senator is missing. She allegedly went off with a new paramour of hers, but there is reason to suspect – according to Captain Rigby – that this could also be a kidnapping.”

            “Do we have any evidence that there was a kidnapping?” Asked Brex. There was another sigh.

            “We’ve spend the past several minutes discussing this,” Theck said. “If you couldn’t bother to listen, then we won’t rehash this debate for your benefit. ‘Aye’ or ‘nay’?”

            “Well ‘nay’, if you have no evidence.” Brex replied.

            Xanthe rubbed her face with her hands. “Lord have mercy,” She muttered.

            The question next fell to Doc. “As usual, I will abstain.” The Irannoid said. “My role will be here, patching up whatever injuries you all sustain out there.” A pause. “And please, no bullets this time. They are difficult to stitch up.” An low chuckle wafted around the room, as Tobias, Aves, and Theck exchanged amused glances. It had been that dustup on Trappist the previous month which Doc was referring to, and the multiple bullet wounds which Theck had sustained. Thanks to both the man’s large mass and Doc’s skill, mending those wounds had been time consuming, yet trivial.

            “Fair enough,” Captain Rigby said, the ghost of a grin at her lips. “Garrick?”

            Tobias watched the Talosian’s inscrutable face, as he stared into the tabletop. “I’m still not sold on this,” Aves said, finally. “I’m voting ‘no’.” Tobias could feel Xanthe tense up beside him.

            “And that’s an ‘aye’ for me.” Rigby said, ending the debate. That brought the count 4-3-1.

            “Looks like we’re helping,” Xanthe said.

            Tobias raised a hand. “So long as we talk to the Senator first and confirm the details of this whole thing. If those suggest kidnapping or something of the sort is a reasonable assumption, then I’m in. That was my condition.”

            Aves shook his head. “It’s a binary choice; you can’t have a conditional ‘yes’.”

            Tobias looked to Rigby. “Captain?”

            She thought about it a moment, then nodded. “I’ll allow that.”

            Tobias returned his gaze to Aves and shrugged. “Overruled.”

            “This is all a mistake,” Commented Javyar. He had shifted in his chair and seemed to be working at some other screen out of their view. Booking his shuttle ticket back to Novaterra, no doubt. “This is going to be a major waste of time.”

            “We’ll keep that in mind if you ever go missing.” Theck said, dryly. There was a general chuckle of amusement from those assembled, but from the stern look on his dour face, Theck hadn’t intended it as a joke.

            “I presume it’s time to hand out assignments?” Tobias asked Rigby. She nodded.

            “Tomorrow is Sunday, so I’d think it would be a good idea to go to Mass at St. Stephen’s in the Horizon District. The senator attends there, and it will allow us to get a feel for the crowd.” The Captain said.

            “Good idea,” Tobias agreed. “It’ll also give us a good opportunity to sniff out if anyone is keeping tabs on the Senator.”

            “I’ll get in contact with Partash; see if we can meet with the senators afterwards.” Rigby continued. “I imagine given all of the secrecy we’ll be expected to come incognito; Lieutenant Napht?”

            In an instant, Tobias sat back up straight, giving Rigby a stiff salute. It had been a while since his military days, but it still came naturally. “Reporting for duty.”

            “You may want to dust off your old dress uniform. You’re going to need it.”

            “Aye, ma’am.” Tobias replied. He was pretty sure he hadn’t thrown it out, yet.

            “I’ll go to Mass with you,” Xanthe said. “It’s Sunday; I’d rather not do any disguises.”

            “Count me in, also.” Theck said.

            A distorted snort from Javyar. “It’s all a bit too conspicuous if you bring the shambling giant to church, isn’t it?” From the look on his face, he had been saving that one since Theck’s previous comment.

            Theck’s large palms met the tabletop, sending vibrations throughout the room. “What did you call me?”

            “You heard me.” Javyar replied. Theck went to stand, but Rigby’s hand fell on his forearm. All in an instant, whatever searing anger which was in the man’s rough face dulled, and he returned to his seat.

            Tobias shook his head. He was nearly convinced that Javyar made it a point to antagonize as many people as possible. Clearly Aves agreed, as he turned his chair towards the hologram. “That’s big talk for someone whose almost assuredly bought himself a one-way ticket to eternal damnation.”

            “Funny,” Javyar grinned that sharp-toothed grin of his. “It’s always amusing that the agnostic talks more about my damnation than the Christians aboard. It feels a bit like the Ruutharii calling the Felxaran bigots.”

            “Javyar,” Rigby announced, cutting through the spat. “I would really appreciate it if you and Brextallor could try and check in with your underworld contacts while the rest of us are occupied. Maybe you could see if anyone has been discussing Senator Sethell and his daughter?”

            “That is, if you don’t find that too boring, Brex.” Tobias added in.

            The Proximan nodded but his focus had returned to the datapad. “I can help out with that.”

            “Agreed.” Javyar replied. “The little guy and I will take care of it. I know a few people down below who owe me a favor or two.”

            Aves, clearly seeing that everyone had a job except him, spoke up. “Captain, don’t tell me…”

            Rigby winced, nodding. “Somebody has to keep an eye on the ship. Doc can’t do it all himself.”

            “Aye, Captain.” The Talosian grunted. Their standard policy always indicated that unless some emergency had occurred, two people needed to stay with the ship. Apparently, Aves had drawn the short straw this time.  

            Rigby then stood suddenly indicating that the meeting was adjourned. “You all have your tasks. Everyone get a good night’s sleep, we start work in the morning. Dismissed.”