CHAPTER II

Vaughn’s boots stiffly clacked against the polished, pristine floor as he stepped down the brightly lit hall, fortified by the posture of a man in command; though, hastily, the charade was marred by his lackluster appearance. As he walked, he tunneled his vision, ignoring the people who were busy fine tuning various electric panels and kiosks, even though they’d taken the time to pause and respectfully offer a nod of acknowledgment.

“We’re waiting...” The displeased voice rang through the corridor.

When he reached the vacant Horiyou lift, he halted, hailing its presence with the push of a button. The doors hissed apart and he entered into the railed travel cab, clearly speaking, “Bridge.” The lift doors hissed as they closed and he was whisked away.

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The owner of the voice impatiently waited, arms crossed across her chest with her weight shifted to one side. She was adorned in the same jacket, slacks, and boots as Vaughn, though hers faired far better in condition. Jacket neatly buttoned. Slacks crisply pressed on her curvy frame. Boots polished to a proud sheen. The woman was presentable; a far better representation of rank and command.

She could hear the lift approaching, her jaw firmly closed, yet slightly skewed, locking in place as she angrily rubbed her tongue along the roof of her mouth, glaring at the sealed doors of the lift port. She had waited long enough for them to part and for her captain to emerge. The insults thumbed through her mind; they always did. When it came to his obvious, lackadaisical behavior there was never a shortage, this time would prove no different as she’d once again be forced to berate her older brother.

The hum of the Horiyou lift slowed to a stop and the doors hissed open.

“You lazy son-of-a-bitch. Must we go through this every time?”

Vaughn approached the woman and eyed past her toward his seat. “Nice seeing you at the ass crack of dawn as always, Gavril.”

“Dawn? It’s seventeen-hundred. And you’re late.” She watched him pass by and halt in middle of the open, lively room. The Captain stood next to two lavish seats surrounded by terminals, glancing around the bridge. Displeased with who was stationed at each terminal, he shook his head in disgust and patiently listened to the frantic fingers tapping against touchpads which emanated beeps and blips: the recognizable noise of mistakes brought on by sloppily executed command prompts. The men and women were thickly coated in deep, nervous concentration at his arrival. An untrained eye would believe the bridge to be in perfect working order.

However, Vaughn saw things differently.

As far as the Captain was concerned, everyone – excluding Gavril – was deeply inadequate mimics, baring no right to be in control of their stations. Their knowledge of ESURTA’s functions took them only as far as the teaching manuals had pages; and Vaughn knew that that would only be a bleak speck of what would be needed to properly run the interstellar ship. Especially when under duress.

As he continued surveying the area, he noticed the pilot’s terminal was left empty. It sat nearest to the bow, being the closest seating to the immense view screen that revealed the stars and space before them as it wrapped around most of the deck.

Vaughn nodded to himself in agreement with his silent assessment, but decided to let it be to hopefully hasten his return to his quarters. “Bridge seems fine. ESURTA seems… just fine.” He then turned to Gavril, “Why am I here?”

Gracefully, his sister motioned towards a small group of people at her side, “This is the new science team that was—”

He scoffed, “Seriously?”

“Wh—”

“This meet and greet bullshit is getting old, Gav.” The Captain sighed and gripped the top of his padded seat, spun it around, and heavily plopped down into it. He shifted to one side, propping an elbow on the arm rest and cupped his face in his hand, awkwardly making eye contact between the group of people and his sister. “Just so you’re aware, this is a grossly disappointing waste of my time.”

“E-Excuse me? What, why—Why would you say that?”

“Fuck the lab coats. We have enough. Anything else you wanted?”

Once again, Vaughn’s obnoxious attitude irritatingly burrowed underneath Gavril’s skin. It would have been easy to lash out in an attempt to put him in his place. So easy. And gratifying. But now wasn’t the time for childhood spats, Gavril had a professionalism to uphold. She was the responsible sibling. Her uneventful response pressed dully from her nostrils in a quiet huff as she collected her thoughts, straightening her anger with faked pleasantries. “They’re the final additions to the field operations. These people were handpicked by the I.S.O.; they deserve some respect.”

“And…?”

“And…as acting captain of this ship—”

“Captain? Acting captain? Really?” Vaughn grinned and chuckled softly. “Hardly…”

“W-Wh… What does that even mean?”

“Never mind, Gav. It means nothing. None of this really means anything. Are we about done here?”

“Again.” She paused to still her frustrations. “These are the new—”

“Gavril, seriously – look – I really don’t care.”

“How can you not? Why has this been such a game to you? It’s the single most important—” She cut herself off, watching his grin widen the more she became flustered. “Just stop being difficult – Quit acting like a child. Can you just give me five minutes of maturity? Aren’t you the captain of ESURTA? Why do I feel like—”

“Again with this ‘captain’ bullshit? Gav, look around, what exactly am I captain of? Who exactly do I ‘captain?’ Hm? I’m an over qualified babysitter who’s being babysat,” he laughed at the notion. “Vaughn Mayve, captain of the finest ship in the I.S.O. – the flag ship as it were. The ship that won the war!” He softly drummed the pads of his fingers against his cheek. “That is what they say, isn’t it? The praise. That’s how they reeled me into this cluster fuck. …The praise. But it’s all a sham. A ploy. How can ESURTA be so striking when it’s been ordered to function on training wheels? How am I to take it seriously?

We saved the Trilobians from extinction. We did. The crew and I rallied the forces. We led them. The I.S.O. nor the Trilobian council had dick to do with it. And still, here I sit on my throne of shit.” He gently shook his head, muttering to himself, “…Captain. Indeed.” He shifted in his seat, resituating both of his elbows on either arm rest, slouching down, and folding his hands underneath his chin. “Gavril, in their eyes, I lack the qualifications to carry out this mission without them. A simple task of exploration and data gathering and I need eyes lurking over my shoulder. But, funny how when in the heat of a crippling, demoralizing, blood soaked war I lacked nothing. I was the savior whose ass they kissed.” Vaughn’s mouth corned a deep smirk as he gently shook his head. “But now that the chaos is over, now with nothing to fear, without the need to rely on a hope and a prayer, they’ve deemed it necessary to strap a collar around my neck. Neuter me, as it were. My way doesn’t fit in with their grand scheme. …And you call me captain…? No, I’m nothing more than a glorified figure head chaperoning a field trip.”

Instead of backing down and subjecting herself to anymore of his ranting, Gavril narrowed her eyes and retaliated, “We’ve been offered the chance to fittingly explore the cosmos, something the human race has dreamed of for centuries. Ever since we laid our eyes on the stars above. …And all you can do is sit there and bitch about safety precautions? How short minded are you? The Trilobians are graciously granting us this opportunity – This ship. They know what they’re doing, Vaughn. They’ve experienced more than we can ever fathom. They know what’s out there and alls they want to do is make sure we stay protected. That’s it! Is that really so horrible? We – which includes you – need to accept their advice.”

After Vaughn had rolled his eyes he responded. “I’m not needed here, not if they’re going to take hold and guide my penis every time I try to relieve myself. That can be done for any moron. And I’m quite certain that I’m past needing to be potty trained. If you need proof just open a history book.”

Gavril mustered a strange, calming smile; it was the biggest, fakest smile she could possibly plaster across her face. Even so, she still found it difficult to file away her frustrations, having been left in disbelief by his ungrateful, immature candor.

Vaughn muttered over the brief silence, “…Fucking mobile science fair.” Again, he shifted in his seat, dropping his elbows and leaning forward, folding his hands in his lap. He sighed, glancing around once more at the room he held fond memories of before focusing his gaze upon Gavril, diving back into the argument. “Do we really need so many scientists? So many engineers? So many useless bodies aboard this ship? Hell, you might as well station someone in each bathroom stall and have them ration out squares of toilet paper. Actually get some productive use out of them.”

“That’s about enough.” Gavril’s voice broke, joined by a look of contempt. “These are some of the brightest minds—”

“Yeah. Yeah. Where are the people I asked for?” Vaughn asked flatly.

“You—You’re…insufferable! Both the Scientific and Engineering Divisions are just as important as the – the—” she paused racking her brain, not as quick to the insults as he was, “Go Git Yur Guns! ...Division”

Immediately, Vaughn lowered his head, shaking it slightly as he jarringly laughed at her inadequacies. “Where are the actual, military trained, officers I requested, Gav?” He lifted his head, fading his laughter with a broad grin.

Gavril quickly derailed the subject. “You don’t think this mission needs you? Hm? Think you’re just some cookie cutter commander? Ever think about if we were assaulted? What then? Think they’d trust some hum-drum officer with the lives of hundreds of people? People that – that can actually offer something incredible to the human race? You’re a fool if you think otherwise. The I.S.O. chose you because you are the best option we have at preserving this mission. Why can’t you see that? We’d—”

“Gavril. Stop. Okay? Stop and think about what you’re saying. I know it may seem like I’m some sort of invincible god – that I can simply snap my fucking fingers and avoid or thwart any and all danger. I mean, I don’t blame people for thinking that’s the case with the multitude of embellished stories floating around. But contrary to the ‘Legend of Vaughn Mayve’ it wasn’t just me out there thrashing about and packing heat. I had a crew. A great crew. And the support of about thirteen billion soldiers. So, to answer your question: ‘What if we’re under attack?’ The answer is simple. Plain as day. We die.”

“I hardly think we’ll just roll over and die, V—”

“What do you think I do exactly? Have the stories made you mad as well? Are you with them, spinning the same bullshit? Think I’m fucking Superman? Think I miraculously sprout eighteen fucking arms and run the bridge myself?”

Gavril said nothing, feeling a burning tint of red at her cheeks.

“Gav, I may be highly experienced; that much is true. I’ve had to dig deep into Houdini’s bag and pull out a miracle or two. But don’t think for a second, Gav, that I’m some destined hero or – or fucking an un-killable machine. I’m not. Far from it. I asses a situation and flesh out strategies in my head to appropriate the optimal course of survival. And then I delegate orders… to a competent crew. Most of the time I’m right – I’m successful. My calculations led us through to safety. And often, I was rescued by others with enough balls to give themselves to the flames. But I don’t carry around a magical wand. There’s no hocus pocus. I delegate. That’s it. All the greatest ideas and strategies throughout our history mean absolute jack-shit without the proper cliental to see them through. I need a crew, Gav. My crew. I need them in order to make the ‘magic’ happen.”

Gavril’s gaze shifted to the ground, realizing what her brother had said was the truth. Indeed, what could one person do against a fleet of opposing enemies? A bridge crew performs like a well-oiled machine; they need to undoubtedly trust each other with their lives. Orders can’t be questioned when everything is on the line. Her gaze lifted, her tone was calmed and understanding, “The I.S.O. is working on it, trust me. They’ve heard your requests and are setting the gears in motion to provide you with more military support. It’d be pretty difficult for them to ignore your pleas; you sent enough letters – which actually – Why do you hand write everything? Why don’t you just send them over the D.M.I., like a normal person?”

Vaughn smirked. “Honestly, it’s relaxing. I enjoy writing. Plus, most people find it irritating to receive my hand written rants, so there’s always some fun in that.”

Gavril rolled her eyes. “For the mean time, however, you have a very knowledgeable staff, presently here, that can adequately maintain every function of ESURTA. We’re launching in two more days; the I.S.O. just doesn’t have enough time to accommodate every little suggestion your heart desires. It doesn’t work that way. There’s more at stake here, more to think about and prepare for.”

Vaughn slowly grinned, speaking loudly enough for the entire bridge to hear. “More at stake? Than what? Survival? More at stake than survival, that’s what you’re feeding me, right? Okay. Alright. So, let’s just say… Let’s say we do end up in a hostile situation. Alright? Met by a gruesome, hyper-violent alien race—it’s bound to happen. Now… Actually, wait. Let’s take a step back. Let’s first assume that even before we have the unfortunate experience of being boarded and mauled to pieces by our captors that we aren’t first annihilated by their ship’s cannons because that asshole,” Vaughn pointed abruptly to the person manning the Tactical Terminal without taking his eyes off Gavril, “missed a reading and forgot to adjust the shield parameters accordingly. But, oh sorry, my mistake. Silly me. Each of them have already read the manuals right? They couldn’t possibly make such a costly oversight. Human error and pressure situations never coincide. So, fuck it. Never mind I mentioned it.”

Gavril wasn’t amused with his sarcastic tone, crossing her arms across her chest. “Get to the point.”

“Gladly. Moving on… What if human error wasn’t a factor and it was our systems that failed. Say they were damaged and—

“There’s protocols for that.”

“Protocols? Hm. Okay, fair enough. But are there protocols for when an enemy ship loses complete functionality of its weapons systems, and as a last ditch attempt to claim honor – or simply snuff out a formidable adversary by any means possible – decides to ram their ship straight up our ass?”

“Actually, yes. There are. If the oncoming ship has sustained suitable damage, enough to where we could implement basic maneuvers and reverse course, deploying a few M.I.D.s as we did so, we’d destroy it before it ever got within shouting distance of us. Simple solution.”

“Bravo. That would definitely solve the problem… if the ship were damaged enough. What if there was no damage sustained and it was a blatant kamikaze run. What then?”

“Use greater force.”

“Most of the weapons potent enough to successfully destroy a ship in that state would have equal repercussions on us. You can’t deploy ‘greater force’ at that kind of proximity and expect to walk away from it unscathed. More or less you’d create a hull breach and kill off a decent chunk of your crew.”

“Well…,” Gavril trailed off, searching for another solution.
“But whatever. Forget about that. For arguments sake, let’s say the ship is on its last leg and looking to go out in a blaze. Deploying M.I.D.s is a perfectly scripted, by-the-book solution.”

“Thanks…”

“So you deploy them, but nothing happens. The ship is undeterred from its crash course. Fuck, right? There was a malfunction with the M.I.D.s detonating system. Happens more often than you’d think.”

“Just—”

“Or, you deploy them and the sensors aren’t tracking them. Nowhere to be seen ‘cause they got all jammed up in the ejector casings….and they’re live.”

“Um…”

“M.I.D.s have anywhere between five to eight seconds before they detonate. Clock’s ticking. What do you—”

“We’d have to… Um…” Gavril frowned, furrowing her brow in thought. “Oh! We could just cut our loss and engage emergency protocol.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, well, we’d activate the reinforced ballistic walls and seal off that particular weapons bay.” Gavril weakly smiled. “It’s a security measure designed—”

“I’m aware. Thanks. And, yeah, you’re absolutely correct. Seal off the sector.”

Gavril’s smile confidently shined.

“But tell me, can you trust that the crewmen currently stationed in that sector would willingly allow themselves to be contained – essentially trapped – only to be vaporized in order to ensure the safety of ESURTA and everyone else aboard?”

Gavril’s smile faltered; she swallowed uneasily. “They know the risk; we all do. They’re aware that if something unplanned occurs that we need to do what’s in the best interest of the majority. It’s right in the—”

“I’ve witnessed hardened, highly trained military personnel who’ve read and understood every damn inch of that manual. I stood and watched them while they swore an oath of honor that they’d always put the success of the mission above all else. Including their own lives. And when disaster struck – when the reaper came to claim us all – I helplessly watched them betray that very oath. They were able to flee. They lived. But by doing so dozens upon dozens more were killed. So many lives needlessly thrown away because of self-preservation. …And you want me to believe some green-ass rookies with zero military training are going to behave according to protocol because they read it in a book?”

Gavril’s eyes again dropped from her brother’s gaze. She grew quiet, standing awkwardly in the silence.

“Gav, I may’ve been bestowed the honors and the respect that comes from shedding another’s blood to protect the lives of those around me. But if it wasn’t for the rock-solid, unwavering trust I had in my crew to act without selfishness and do what was needed, not only would I be standing here void of all recognition, it’s highly unlikely I’d be standing here at all.”

Gavril felt foolish, sheepishly nodding her understanding.

Vaughn studied her for a moment, trying to stifle the memories that began to surface from the words he had spoken. A deep inhale and a slower, softer exhale kept them at bay. “But anyway,” he slowly said, “back to the original question: What if we were boarded?”

Gavril didn’t respond.

Noticing his sister was feeling uneasy, Vaughn decided to address the others on the bridge. “I’m now asking the crewmen stationed at the terminals.” The men and women halted their tasks, giving the captain their undivided attention. “What if ESURTA was boarded and the intruders immediately began tearing everyone apart? How would you react?”

There was no response.

“If they breached our defenses and boarded this ship, what would you do? Anyone? If they systematically began tearing out the spines and hearts of the people around you, what would your course of action be?”

Nothing. Silence.

Vaughn swallowed harshly, his voice dimmed. “I’ve known some pretty remarkable people over the years. I’ve spoken with them. Joked with them. Shared in their aspirations. And felt their sorrows. I listened as they fondly spoke of the families they left back home and how they couldn’t wait to be reunited when it was all over. What they would do when they got back to Earth. …I grew close to these people. I admired them.” Again, the Captain paused, staving back memories. “And with no warning whatsoever, I was forced to witness most of them scream and beg for my help as they were torn to pieces. Or impaled. Gunned down. Even disemboweled. Splattered along every surface like a child’s finger painting. Never having a chance to react – to fight back – to utilize all those years of training. Everything they were, decades worth of life… dreams and aspirations, all erased in a blink. Their lives amounted to nothing more than cannon fodder.

“This mission may be looked upon as a peaceful and beautiful, awe inspiring journey to discover more of the worlds that surround us, but it isn’t. It’s unpredictable. It’s frightening. And from what I’ve experienced, it can get very violent very quickly.” He waited for a response, continuing when none was given. “I’ve witnessed widespread confusion. Chaos incarnate. Hopelessness. It’s infectious. It will spread. It always does. It’ll surge through every breath of life aboard this ship until all is consumed. Until all have fallen. I’ve seen it happen. Aptly trained soldiers seizing up, crushed by fear, unable to react, ultimately allowing others to pay the price for their mistakes.

“And you all think you can do better? History will only remember this mission as a stain with gilded intent. That we were overzealous, blinded by our excitement and our costly carelessness. I’ve seen enough to know how this will all turn out.”

Other than the hum of the terminals, there was an eerie silence that overcame the air. Vaughn crushed his eyelids together, forcing the nightmares down. His concentration, however, was dismantled as a man confidently spoke out. “You’re forgetting one thing, Sir. The I.S.O. stated that with the help of the Trilobians we would have nothing to fear from this mission.”

Vaughn’s lips curled into a tiny simper. He knew that what the crewman brashly stated was so beyond the truth that it didn’t warrant a response. He lifted his head and leaned back in his chair. “There was never an answer to my question.”

“And what question was that, Sir,” the same man asked.

Vaughn narrowed his full attention to the man. “If the head of your comrade exploded in front of your, now, blood soaked face, would you be able to wipe away the brain matter and conjure up a solution to the problem?”

“Yes,” his answer was quick and reassuring. “I’d do what was ordered of me.”

Vaughn smirked, easily seeing through the man’s macho façade. “What if the captain and the bridge officers were already dead? They’re just humans after all. No one is exempt from an untimely death. With no one to take orders from, what do you do?”

The man’s eyes darted around a bit hoping that someone else would speak up and bail him out.

“Hm? No? Nothing to say?” Vaughn’s smirk grew. “Any of you – not just this moron – but any of you — what would you do?” Vaughn felt the nervous, quivering stares of the people who surrounded him. The inadequate crew was now proving to be exactly as Vaughn had assessed. “When you witness the entrails of another human being ripped from their gut – and you see the terror in their eyes, knowing they’ll soon die. What is your course of action? Because I can assure you, even if you were lucky enough to survive your life would never be the same. Among all of those whose lives were taken from them, a fair share could only find respite by taking their own. If you decide to remain a part of this mission you will realize one simple fact: Humans, underneath it all, are nothing more than fleshy bags of blood and bones. Every memory you accumulate, ever skill you master will mean absolutely nothing if you are not properly prepared for death.

“And, as a result, you will be responsible for every other death that lies in your wake.”

The crew dropped their gazes from Vaughn with blanked, paled faces. They now believed this mission was a lot more involved than glamour and exploring a new frontier in the name of mankind.

“Bet you all felt pretty fucking important, strutting around this ship for the I.S.O.’s fashion show. They did a very nice job of dressing you all up for the occasion. You all certainly appear as a true bridge crew. But in reality, each and every one of you will only amount to succeeding as a liability. Every one of you will end up getting the other killed. You’re nothing but clueless, useless—”

“Enough!” Gavril finally exclaimed, her glossy eyes ready to run over.

Vaughn shifted his gaze to his sister’s. “Something to say, Gav?”

“Just – We get it, okay? Just stop. I’m not sure—”

“Not sure? Yeah, Gav, I know. That’s my point. No one is sure. No one fucking knows what could happen. Anything is possible, even with the almighty Trilobians holding your hands. Yet here we are with a bunch of green-ass sprouts running the bridge.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Weird. It should have been.”

“Vaughn, you may believe in Murphy’s Law, but the Council doesn’t seem to. Regardless of what you say, the Council is running this expedition. They are in charge; and they make the calls.”

“Then I’ll see you on the other side, Gav,” Vaughn said with a smug smile. As he looked around he saw how disjointed the crew appeared. He could tell how badly they wanted to be dismissed and with any luck, they’d all resign. “So, anyway. Who am I looking at? New science division or whatever?”

No one in the group wanted to speak, having patiently waited throughout the duration of Vaughn’s colorful speeches.

“They are your new crew members, Captain,” Gavril quietly snapped.

“Yeah. Okay. So… Do they have names – skills sets – anything of use to me?

“Yes, of course they do. They were handpicked—”

“You know, you keep saying that like it matters.”

Gavril narrowed her eyes, speaking slowly through gritted teeth. “It does matter.”

“Yeah, okay. So, are you going to go over introductions – or…”

“Can you cut the attitude?”

“Hey. Look. I’m trying to invest my interest here, okay?”

“Yeah. Trying. You sure are.”

“So, let’s start with names,” Vaughn suggested.

“Vaughn—”

“Names, yes?”

“Just forget it—”

“Names Gav! For the love of—”

“Cambria Timm!” Gavril angrily blurted out.

“…Okay. And?”

Gavril calmed her aggression, speaking evenly. “She’ll be the S.W.III Program Director and will head the first dispatch. Next to her is Blarn Mistofius: a remarkable scientist with a long list of credentials, I already supplied his file to your personal kiosk. And finally, Xuvectrin D’Easia. She’ll be our new Chief Engineer.”

Vaughn quickly summed up the trio, “The forgettable blonde. A man named… Blarn. And a Trilobian.” His gaze lingered on the alien, staring at the darkened bone that jutted from the top of her forehead, arching its way back toward the base of her skull. “Try to keep ESURTA in one piece.”

Xuvecrtrin smiled and smoothly bobbed her head with a single, respectful nod, appearing utterly unaffected by Vaughn’s rants.

“Good. Glad that’s over.” The Captain then stood up and brushed off his crinkled uniform, checked his unlinked cuffs (leaving them as such), and walked past the group, back to the Horiyou lift port. He made no further eye contact with anyone on the bridge as the doors hissed open. “Now then, if you aren’t being mutilated, maimed or slaughtered, please, leave me alone.”

The lift doors hissed closed.

And he was gone.

Next Chapter: New Chapter