Chapter 4

"Lead Technician Frasure didn't sound too happy with your request."

From his personal diminutive kitchenette area, Captain Alexander looked over at the smaller-scale AI pedestal positioned at the center of his cabin. Mnemosyne wore a lopsided grin and one eyebrow was raised. She was getting much better at displaying emotions and it helped Markus interact with her on a more casual basis. It wasn't that he didn't like the company of others, but sometimes people—like Endres—could become a little much. His XO, while entertaining around others, would often times hang around long after being dismissed.

Markus poured himself a small cup of tea from the flashpot and returned to his cushioned couch along the far wall. "Frasure always sounds upset. If it's not one thing it's another." He plopped down and sunk into the fabric.

"Should I add that to his psych profile?"

He smiled, shook his head, and took a sip of tea. The strong scent of peppermint filled his nostrils and he breathed it out carefully. While most Fleet captains had a cache of liquor in their cabinet, Alexander never quite acquired the taste of alcohol and instead indulged himself with the comforting draw of tea. He collected tea of every kind—even the rare homebrews from colonies like Skopje—and yet he didn't consider himself a tea connoisseur. He tried nearly everything available but only drank what he liked.

Markus placed his cup on the arm of the couch. "What's the latest Cryo Chamber numbers?"

Mnemosyne straightened up. "Exact or estimate?"

"Estimate."

"Nearly 68 percent of the civilians are already sealed in and only 12 percent of the crewmembers."

He nodded. It was amazing progress, considering the last colony mission took nearly two weeks for the Cryo Rooms to be filled. Mnemosyne's integration into the timetables and quartermaster's logs definitely proved to speed up the process, and Markus was grateful for her efficiency. "What would we do without you, Nemmy?"

The AI crossed her fingers together and lowered her hands to rest on the waist of her green gown. "That sounds like a loaded question, Captain. Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

Markus rolled his eyes. "Nevermind."

"Very well." She watched him for a moment longer, silently blinking. A few missions back Markus would have considered her unwavering presence a bit unnerving, but in a way it helped ground him in reality. He knew it wasn't something as symbiotic as a real relationship, but the AI offered a constant soundboard with which Markus bounced ideas off of. Her personality had evolved since her very first integration into the Spirit of Fire, and she was becoming more likable the longer he talked with her. He didn't know the details of her origin, but he knew Mnemosyne was a sort of hybrid AI. Not quite a Smart AI, but also no dummy. It was a series scientists had tried and tested to outlast the 7 year life-span of the higher-tier AIs, and Mnemosyne would remain at full functionality for another five years—according to lab projections.

Markus sighed and took another drink of tea. A wave of uneasiness washed over him as the sad reality of having an AI as his closest companion set in. As soon as his career took off he told himself he would begin the process of starting a family once he'd spent a few years getting his "ship legs." But as months passed and opportunities arose he found the majority of his time was spent aboard ships and ports of call. He wasn't the type of guy that would seek out one-night stands, so the search for an honest mate was never something he could do. And now, as he approached his late 30's, he realized his chance to enjoy a family life was passing him by. His first priority would be to find a member of the opposite sex and begin the courting process. But where would I start? And how? Markus shook his head and knew he was getting way ahead of himself.

"Are you alright, Captain?" Mnemosyne asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm fine," he murmured, suddenly feeling tired. "I think I'll go to bed early tonight." He sensed the AI's concerned look and sat up. "I'll be fine, Nemmy, really. I'm . . . just feeling my age."

The AI frowned and shifted her weight to her left leg. "You're not that old, Mark."

The use of his first name made him look up at her. The AI's expression resembled one he found his aunt wearing when he had told her of his intentions to enter the Naval Academy. Mnemosyne had even duplicated the slight taunting of the flesh around her eyes and it made Markus feel like he was back in his aunt's kitchen all over again. "What about what your father would want for you? Hmm? Or your mother; what would she say?" Aunt Caroline had said. He argued back then that they'd want him to be happy, but their hidden hope was for him to carry on the family business and marry Evangeline Wright. He sighed. That seems like a lifetime ago.

He stood abruptly, causing the memory to evaporate in his mind. He cleared his thoughts fully and smiled at the AI. Here is where I'm supposed to be. I'm not going to doubt the good that I've done to salve some ache of a path I could have chosen. "Nemmy, have the orderly prepare my dress uniform. Tomorrow's going to be a day of new beginnings for a lot of people." Including me.

Jonathan Philip stepped into the Main Officers Lounge and immediately felt off balance. He was expecting the room to be filled with extravagant creature comforts and tables full of gourmet delicacies, but instead he found the exact opposite. Along the left and right walls of the rectangular room were small rounded tables supporting trays of finger foods that were more to snack on than to dine on. Mostly everyone was standing, conversing in small groups, while others sat on the semicircle couch that framed a central holopad—which was currently displaying a montage of images from the Spirit of Fire's previous colony plants. The room was more functional than it was comfortable, and Jonathan almost stepped back into the hallway to escape the crowded lounge.

"Ah, Second Officer Philip." XO Endres detached himself from a huddle of chattering men and greeted him with a small glass of red liquid. "Good to see you here."

Philip tugged at the ends of his sleeves and nodded. "Well, this is a mandatory meeting." He tried to read deception in the XO's expression and knew the man could just have been faking his smile.

"Yes, well there are people I'd like you to meet." Endres waved him over to the group he had just left and Philip followed. The XO started the introductions with the grey-haired man to Philip's right. "This is Franklin Rivers, the Chief Mechanic."

"Call me Frank," he added, shaking Philip's hand with a calloused one of his own.

Endres pointed to the dark-skinned man in the middle who wore a military-style cut uniform. "This is Thomas Glass, head of Security."

With broad shoulders and a strong build, Glass commanded respect by his sheer presence. "Welcome aboard," he said in a deep, resonant rumbling from his chest. Philip could easily believe Glass was capable of snapping anyone in the room in half. His large hand nearly engulfed Philip's in a handshake.

"And here is Chief Colony Engineer Daniel Wolfe," Endres introduced the last man.

The middle-aged engineer shook his hand and winked one of his blue eyes at Philip. "Despite what they may tell you, I'm not only good for colony plants." He poked a thumb at the first man. "I've been known to rival Rivers' mechanical skills."

The Chief Mechanic barked out a laugh. "I'd like to see you do a field repair on a hull breach in orbit."

Endres raised an eyebrow. "You mean like your Refresher Station fiasco on our last colony mission?"

Rivers grinned. "Hey, that sealant would have held if the manufacturer's specs gave the proper PSI range." He cupped his left hand over his right fist and quickly lifted it away, making an explosion sound effect. "Malcolm was completely covered in that crap."

Philip joined the four men in laughter as he pictured the Third Officer's unfortunate event in his mind.

"Where is Malcolm?" Glass asked, looking above the heads of others.

Endres shrugged. "He volunteered to remain on the bridge. I'm going to swap with him halfway through this little shindig."

Rivers nodded slowly in mockingly overt approval. "How noble."

Engineer Wolfe tilted his head towards Philip. "Wait, how did you get out of that duty?"

He exchanged a glance with Endres and wondered how to respond.

But the XO took a minute step forward and held up a hand. "This is Philip's first time on the Spirit of Fire. The Captain thinks his time would best be spent getting to know those he's going to work with." He let a smile tug at the corner of his mouth and looked at Glass. "Even if they are a bunch of UNSC rejects."

"Ouch," Glass chuckled. "He's referring to my stint in the Marine Corps."

"You were in the Marines?" Philip asked.

He nodded. "Back on Tribute in the Epsilon Eridani System I was with the group that brought down that Insurrectionist terror plot to bomb the Capitol Building in June, 2512. Some political hack didn't like the way we left blood stains on the carpet or something stupid like that and I left with an honorable discharge."

Philip's eyes grew wide when he recalled the ONI reports. "You were on Tribute?"

"Born and raised there." He looked down at his glass a wiped some of the condensation away distractedly. "Though I hear the Innies are gaining some ground again."

"Well, you guys did a hell of a job," Philip commented, gaining new respect for Glass. The terror plot had been foiled by a lot of Red Tape cutting, and in the end it left a lot of uneasiness for the CAA officials. He was about to touch on one of the operational details but caught himself before he could open his mouth. Stick to your cover; you're not an ONI op here. He figured he could talk to Glass afterward.

"So what brings you out here, Philip?" Wolfe asked. "The lure of excitement? Did some female civilian woo you on board?"

Feeling back on balance, he smiled. "Partially the former and none of the latter." Beside him, Endres turned to face him, and Philip wondered if the XO would inform them of his true ONI nature. "This is my first colony mission and hopefully not the last."

Rivers frowned. "Not many worlds left to colonize." He harrumphed. "At least none that the CAA can afford."

"There are still a few more systems the UNSC has probed," Philip offered. His generic cover story to the crew was to be an officer looking to climb the ranks to a captaincy, but even as he forced his story of false hopes he wondered if Endres would drop the hammer and tell the gathered men about his ONI affiliation. "Maybe by the time we get back the Earth there will be a bureaucratic compromise and ships like the Spirit of Fire can continue to do what they do best." He looked the XO square in the face and almost wanted the truth to come out, but apparently Endres was a strict adherer to Captain Alexander's wishes. It was unexpected.

Endres' eyes seemed to soften and he sighed. "A toast then," he prompted, raising his glass. "To the Wild, Great Beyond. May our thirst for exploration never cease."

As the five of them drank, Wolfe eyed Endres. "Since when did you become so eloquent?"

The XO lowered his drink and smiled. "Sometimes you have to rise above your material . . . and your audience."

As they laughed again, Philip couldn't help but feel a bond slowly forming with them. These men were just like anyone else wanting to make a difference in the galaxy. They were pleasant company, and even Endres proved he wasn't normally the nervous shadow he ran into yesterday down in the bowels of the ship. Deep down Philip knew any relationship he might form with crewmembers was trite and he should look upon them as pawns and nothing more.

But as the night went on and he met more individuals, he found the Spirit of Fire's crew not to be like the stuck-up politicians or CAA Chamber Members he had previously encountered. It was as if the intel on the crew had been heavily biased, and he discovered that the majority of them didn't loath the UNSC at all. Many found the United Nations Space Command to be a necessity and they seemed to understand the slow transition of the Colonial Administration Authority's dissolving influence in the outer colonies.

A clanking of metal on glass brought his attention to the front of the room and the crowd hushed. Captain Alexander stood beaming in his white uniform and wore a proud smile. "I wanted to thank you all for your efforts to get to know one another." He leaned forward and placed his glass on the holopad table. "We're winding down the first leg of our trip to Verent, but keep in mind the duties you have waiting for you after your thaw from Cryo. So for now, enjoy this lull in chaos, and prepare yourself for some hard work left to be done." He picked up his glass and raised it. "And let's make Verent be the best colony it can be."

The crowd agreed with a triumphant "hear, hear" and light applause broke out. Philip patted the outside of his cup-wielding hand with his left and nodded in mock approval. He was certain Verent would become a colony—just not how Alexander may think. He grumbled to himself. While all of the hobnobbing was going on, Philip had let his mind wander away from his mission parameters. He was fairly certain the charm of the crew wouldn't get to him and he tried to harden his heart for good measure.

A ping from his comm jolted him out of his contemplation and he fished the device from his pocket. The tiny yellow light on the unit flashed on and off, telling him he had an alert sent from his datapad back in his private quarters. He frowned and returned the comm to his pocket. He looked up to find Endres but the XO must have stepped up to his right side when he was distracted with his comm. "Oh, there you are." He set his glass down on the table to his left. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire for the day."

Patrick Endres consulted his wrist chrono and frowned. "This early?"

He placed a hand on his stomach and grimaced. "I don't think the hors d'oeuvres settled well with me."

"Yes, I noticed several others feeling a bit queasy."

"Yeah." Philip leaned in and his face tightened. "I wanted to thank you for your discretion earlier. If others learned that I was an—"

"I did it for their sakes, Philip," Endres cut him off, his posture going rigid. "The less they know about you, the better it is for all of us." He shook his head. "I just hope that you've seen how serious the crew takes this mission. Success is their goal; it is in their blood."

Philip nodded. "I understand." And he truly did.

"Then I will see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he confirmed. He nodded and received one in return.

Weaving his way through the crowd, he was out the main door and onto a lift in a matter of seconds. He had decided against bringing his datapad to the party and his instincts had played him right. Endres could have easily looked over my shoulder at any time. He's sneaky, alright. The comm unit's yellow light flash pattern told him it was a priority alert and he wondered what exactly had happened. When the lift stopped on his deck level, he marched down the short hall to his quarters and entered. He found his datapad where he had left it, on the countertop of his refresher room. His eyes traced over the rest of his quarters, looking for a sign of intrusion, but everything was exactly as he had left it. Even the pair of socks that hung from a drawer was still lined up perfectly with his boots.

He picked up the datapad, entered his security code, and brought up the alert. It was an automated response when one of his ONI supply containers was being tampered with. It better not be that idiot Parkins down in Storage. He touched the screen and followed the link to the initial logger: H. Ackerman. Philip's eyes widened. "So it's you," he whispered to himself. "Your luck just keeps getting worse."

He brought his datapad into the main living area and plugged it into the holopad on the low table in front of a pair of not-so-comfortable chairs. As he linked into the main AI hub, using his ONI bypass decryption, he let a smile spread across his face. He could do any number of things to stop Ackerman's meddling but he chose the one method that would serve multiple purposes.

The negative tone from her scanner snapped Harper Ackerman out of her daze. She sat cross-legged at the base of a rack of crates, scooting along on a crawler she had found in a maintenance locker. She was nearly finished with her last batch when her datapad's stream halted and the scanner froze. She looked curiously at the device and noticed the readout in big red letters flash: ERROR.

Frowning, Harper tried to scan the crate again but the message came back the same. She leaned forward to examine the Data Matrix Code etched into the crate's side panel and ran her fingers over the black and white barcode. When some of the black smeared together with the white she inhaled sharply, feeling the sting of the cold air. What the hell? Harper ran her fingers over the previous crate and found a solid plastic coating over the barcode, unlike the unprotected crate her scanner couldn't read.

She touched the activator on her headset and called a fellow technician. "Hey Collins, you still over on F-07?"

A static hiss filled her left ear followed by a grumpy voice. "Yeah, I'm on my last dozen containers. You got a problem on 05?"

"Maybe. A crate I just scanned has an invalid Data Matrix Code, and the barcode itself looks like it wasn't even flash-sealed but almost painted on. Does that make any sense?"

"You mean Procurement screwed up something else?" His sigh sounded like sandpaper rubbing against stone. "Try entering the number manually. You remember how to read Data Matrix?"

"Of course," she replied without thinking. It was one of the first things they taught in Tech school, but it had been years since putting it into practice. "Hold on."

"I'm holdin'," he said distractedly.

Harper started deciphering the hieroglyphic order of black and white squares and found the twenty digit code-reading method to come back to her in an instant. She entered each number into her scanner in sequence and once she had the full code she pressed ACCEPT. But again, the scanner blurted out a tone other than the positive chime she had been hearing since yesterday. She looked at the scanner's readout and frowned. "Classified?"

"You get it figured out?" Collins' tiny voice came through her headset.

"Maybe," she said. Harper rubbed her tired eyes with thumb and forefinger. "Have you come across any containers marked as 'Classified'?"

"Nope. Call it in, if you want. I'm almost done here." Collins kept the line open and added, "do you need me to take a look at it?"

"No, I'll figure something out." She switched off her comm and got to her feet. Harper walked back to the front of the room where the room's only terminal was attached to the wall. She had been using it to keep a backup manifest for her scanner, as she was updating the list every two hours, but until now she had not connected to the Spirit of Fire's central computer hub.

She logged in under her technician username and password and pulled up the master list that every tech had attributed to. She whistled when she saw the progress of her fellow techs as they had accomplished over 90 percent of the DME fix. She searched the list for 'Classified' and found no units that matched. Linking her datapad to the terminal, she started the upload of her last batch.

Within seconds of the upload, the terminal screen momentarily flashed red and her datapad finished the process after sending the data of the classified crate. Frowning, Harper reconnected and tried the upload again, but a halt in the system froze her data stream. Growling in frustration, she tried using the direct, automated transfer of her datapad's contents to the ship's manifest, bypassing the screening filters, in an attempt to figure out the mysterious contents of the crate. It was a gray area of risky security protocols, but she had to know . . . .

Before she could even submit the request, the terminal's screen was filled with a two-dimensional image of the AI Mnemosyne. "Technician Specialist Ackerman, I notice you are trying to upload into the Spirit of Fire's Firebase Master Manifest List. Is there a reason you are retrying your attempt to connect?"

Confusion rippled across Harper's face. "How did you . . . why can't I . . ." She sighed, knowing the AI probably noticed her backdoor move to find out more about the crate. "Why can't I access Firebase F-05, Lot 34 in the Master Manifest List?"

"Please specify a container."

"It's the only one with a 'Classified' label on it," Harper murmured.

Mnemosyne raised one of her eyebrows. "Data Code 85971505-186473-7814350 is marked CLASSIFIED and requires an Office of Naval Intelligence Code Key to access its contents. You do not have the proper clearance."

ONI Code Key? What are ONI crates doing aboard a Firebase? And on the Spirit of Fire? Harper's thoughts spun around in a circle, almost making her dizzy with confusion. Having military-grade hardware on a colony vessel wasn't anything new, but stowing secret crates was something that should raise a few alarms. Shouldn't it? Harper frowned at Mnemosyne. "Can you alert the Deck Officer of this container?"

The AI shook her head. "That will not be necessary. ONI protocol D-17-42N states that the local head of ONI Operations will be notified of this incident."

Harper's jaw dropped. "What? Mnemosyne, this is a civilian ship. There is no local head of ONI Ops."

"Be that as it may, you still do not have the clearance to access the classified contents."

She shook her head. "Frasure's going to freak out about this."

"Is there anything else you require?" the AI asked.

Harper waved her hand. "No," she sighed. "I'll finish up here soon and report to Lead Tech Frasure."

"Very well, Miss Ackerman." The AI's avatar winked out and the terminal returned to normal.

Feeling more confused than frustrated, Harper slowly walked back to the last few crates left to scan. The AI's sudden appearance seemed a bit odd to her. Why would Mnemosyne go out of her way to confront me? True, the AI could have simply denied Harper access and report the incident to Frasure and even Alexander. It made her head hurt.

She returned to her last few minutes of work and was just about to submit the last crate to her datapad when her comm beeped. It was Frasure. "Yes, sir?"

"Ackerman, get your ass back here ASAP," Frasure growled. "I need you to explain some things to me and the Second Officer."

Nervousness sent a chill through her skull. "Yes, sir."

"I'm sorry for the mishap, Second Officer Philip. I'm sure there will be no more problems on our end." Frasure rose from behind his desk and nodded to Philip. "My apologies for your having to come down here."

"No need," Philip said with a soft smile. He looked over at Harper Ackerman as she stood along the wall in the hot, tiny office. Sweat pasted loose strands of hair across her forehead. "I'm sure Tech Spec Ackerman knows now how to follow the proper channels when presenting an inquiry." He watched with satisfaction as the woman's face began a slow transformation from a frown into a snarl. "The ship's AI is only to be used for those with . . . pressing needs."

Harper snapped her head around to look at Frasure. "Sir, I'm telling you that Mnemosyne contacted me."

Frasure shook his head and wiped a bead of sweat from under his nose. "Regardless, it's not your place to do an in-depth search in the Master Manifest List just to prove a theory."

She folded her arms across her chest. "It wasn't a theory, sir. The crate was labeled CLASSIFIED, and I didn't think—"

"That's right," Frasure said, cutting her off. "You didn't think." He pointed to the datapad on his desk. "The Data Code of the crate checks out. You may think you saw it say 'classified,' but there's nothing out of the ordinary with it." He snorted and held up the datapad for her to see it. "It's clearly labeled in the system as FOODSTUFFS."

"But my scanner said CLASSIFIED!"

Philip held up his hands before Frasure could give a reprimand. "I'm sure it was merely an equipment error." He smiled at Ackerman who was on the verge of turning red. She was obviously infuriated over the accusation he was making. "I won't log this as a 'breach of security,' but keep in mind, Frasure, that another incident like this will not be tolerated."

"I completely understand." Frasure's cold stare met Ackerman's evenly. "It won't happen again." He returned his gaze to Philip. "Should I report this to the Captain?" he asked, his voice calm once more.

Ackerman's eyes dashed to Philip's, trying to gauge his response and perhaps wondering if she should attack him now to prevent further damage to her reputation. Instead, Philip shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I'm sure Tech Spec Ackerman's initial intentions were benevolent." He watched as the woman's face slackened, and then her shoulders slumped in defeat. Yes, a fine scapegoat indeed. "You may transfer the complete DME Report to Captain Alexander once you have the entire Master Manifest List complete, but you can leave out this incident."

Frasure straightened up. "It will be finished within the hour."

"Very good." Philip gave an abbreviated nod and left the office. He kept himself from smiling even after he entered the lift at the end of the hall. He could imagine the grilling Frasure was giving Ackerman, and part of him wanted to stick around to watch the show.

His goal had been to test his ONI override codes on the ship's AI, allowing him to test Mnemosyne's compliance level with his orders. And it worked perfectly. He was certain the CAA had no idea about the ONI imbedded coding inside the AI's programming, and using it for the first time against an unsuspecting tech was the perfect trial run. It also went along with his plan to build up suspicion against Ackerman. She truly was a pawn.

And Philip had made the first move.