Journey to Ariel

Equal to Hunk's relief at not being assigned to an invasion force was his surprise at finding that Lance was also on Sendak's mission. Hunk had mentioned that he was going on a mission, but Lance hadn't said anything about being assigned off Central. If he were honest with himself, Hunk hadn't expected Lance to remain in servitude on Central until his first deployment ended. It seemed Hunk had been wrong, but why hadn't Lance told him? Maybe Lance was that mad at Hunk. The other cadet had certainly made a point of avoiding Hunk for the first ten sleep cycles of the forty it would take to get wherever they were going on this ship. The details of their mission was secret, but they weren't equipped for a military expedition. Most of the equipment on board was designed for excavation.

Every ten vargas, cadet drills were held, but they weren't as rigorous as those they'd endured during martial training. Much of the initial mission involved the machine specialist teaching the soldiers how to use the digging equipment. As an engineer, Hunk wouldn't drive anything, but he'd be around to repair the specialized drills and bulldozers. He noted that the drills were tipped with diamond and designed to withstand solar flares—they were going somewhere in the out ranges, then.

Probably somewhere hot and dangerous.

The soldiers soon found they had more free time on this long journey than they had at Central Command. Hunk did what he'd done since he joined the army—made himself easy to like. He didn't want to become a target for abuse. He didn't know how Lance survived it, but Hunk knew he wasn't strong enough to endure.

He looked the part of the strong Galra soldier, but Hunk knew the truth—he was a fraud.

During martial training, Hunk smuggled some secret sauce and spices from home. They'd made him popular after a single meal when he'd shared some to make the mess hall food palatable. Hunk didn't like gambling much—he hadn't the credits for it, anyway—but he had played dice several times. He didn't want to seem anti-social, but when the cadets started betting on cadet-cadet wrestling matches, Hunk found another unique niche.

And today, he was winning.

Nimbler than his size suggested, Hunk dodged his opponent's charge. Then, he ducked down and flipped him over his head. The other cadet, Bliznit, grunted when he landed on his back. He wheezed, and Hunk pinned him down with an elbow.

The other cadets cheered, and the referee called it. "Hunk wins...again. Pay up, worms."

The downside of being good was that Hunk won people less money now. More people bet on him, so they split the pot amongst more people. Hunk shook his shoulders, spraying water from his damp fur. Subconsciously, he smoothed down the ruffled fur around his ears.

After four matches, Hunk was ready to be done. Bliznit stalked away, but Hunk followed him and put a hand on his shoulder. "No hard feelings—I know you've never lost."

"We'll have a rematch," Bliznit muttered, and Hunk's guts knotted up. Great, that's all he needed—an enemy.

"I said no hard feelings—it's a friendly game," Hunk said. Bliznit snorted, shrugging off his apology. Frowning, Hunk walked away and dressed in his uniform.

Eventually, he'd hoped to see Lance come down and hang out with the other cadets, but he hadn't so far. All the cadets under Sendak couldn't hate him—could they?—they didn't even know him. But these were Sendak's cats, he reminded himself. They had an incentive to avoid a social pariah like Lance.

But you don't need to act like them, Hunk told himself. He poked around the barracks but had no luck finding his friend. Skipping the more popular hang-out spots, Hunk took the long walk to the comm room. His guess was right—Lance was at work. Sort of. Well, he was playing Space Whale Invasion on the comm panel.

Hunk took a seat at the control panel beside Lance. The other cadet in the room shot him a glance, sizing Hunk up. "Just here to hang—nothing else going on in this ship," Hunk said, splaying his arms behind his head.

Lance glared at him, but the other cadet shrugged and went back to staring at his own monitor. Hunk glanced over in time to watch Lance's space whale explode and end the game. Scowling, Lance muttered, "You distracted me. I was going for a high score."

"I didn't know they had Space Whale Invasion on this ship," Hunk said. "Cutting edge military simulation?"

Lance clicked the screen away. "I installed it," he muttered, hunching over in a defensive position. "It's boring in here. There's no outside database access like in the main comm room."

Ah, so that's how Lance had kept himself from going crazy, Hunk thought. It made sense. He probably would've snapped long ago under a double schedule at Central.

"We've still got thirty sleep cycles ahead," Hunk said, propping his feet on a panel. Lance glowered at him but didn't say anything. Hunk swiveled in his chair, doing his best to remain unthreatening and casual. "So, you know where we're going?"

"Ariel," Lance said. He hunched over his screen and turned his back to Hunk. So, Lance was going to be that way again. Hunk frowned, wondering if he could get through to his friend—he refused to think of them as former friends—after what had happened at martial training and at Central Command. If Lance didn't want to accept his apologies…

No, you can't give up on him, Hunk thought, fixing himself in his seat. They were still friends. He had to believe that.

"I thought this was going to be an invasion mission," Hunk said, spilling the common rumor that he knew to be a lie. He was glad it wasn't, but he didn't dare say that aloud either.

"It's not," Lance said, his gaze still on the screen. "I'm—"

"You're not busy," Hunk said. He flicked open the Space Whale Invaders screen and began to play on the free comm station. He'd helped Lance program this, and if Lance wouldn't talk to him, he'd at least have some fun.

"Sendak really didn't tell you anything about the mission?" Lance asked. Hunk kept playing and didn't look up.

"No...we all knew it was secret...thought it would be invasion...all the tools are for digging—yeah!" Hunk pumped a fist when he cleared his level.

"Excavation of Ariel—that's the mission," Lance said. A ripple of excitement ran down Hunk's spine, but he forced himself to focus on the space whales.

Offhandedly, Hunk said, "It's pretty heavy-duty equipment."

"There was a disaster—a solar-flare—on Ariel over ten thousand years ago," Lance said.

Hunk kept playing the game, afraid if he stopped, Lance might stop talking. "What are we looking for?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't know. Something buried a long time ago, I guess. Ariel's on the outer reaches of the empire—it's not a hospitable place."

"I've seen the equipment," Hunk muttered. He shot down more of the opposing blue blues with his yellow whales.

"...need to send a comm for fuel resupply," Lieutenant Haxus said and walked into the comm room. Hunk wiped the screen away and jerked up. The Lieutenant gave Hunk a narrow-eyed gaze, but Hunk gave a smart salute and strode away. As he left, he glanced back at Lance, whose face had become pinched in concentration. Part of Hunk wanted to stay, but he'd gotten his friend to talk to him more than any time since they'd left home.

If he stayed, Hunk knew he'd get them both in trouble. Still, his insides squirmed like he'd swallowed worms. Abandoning his friend wasn't his proudest moment, but when Hunk walked away from the comm room, he swore he'd never walk away from Lance again.

Lance spent the trip to Ariel mostly in the comm room. His schedule required ten vargas on shift and six vargas off shift. Every four shifts, he got an extra four vargas, which he spent laying on his bed and listening to music on a headset. Commander Thace had two orders for him—avoid Sendak's soldiers and don't talk about the mission. Distracting himself seemed the best way to do both of those things. If he started to think about the mysterious weapon hidden at the edge of the empire, Lance's mind raced, and he wanted to keep researching. Unlike the comm room at Central Command, this one didn't have the full database access, and there were no old comm records worth reading. Unlike his lonely shift at Central, another soldier was always in the comm room with him, too, so he couldn't go through the comms unwatched.

He'd installed his old game, Space Whale Invasion, to keep himself busy. The less he thought, the more apathetic he acted, the less attention he would draw to himself...at least, he hoped. They had received few comms, but every three shifts, he sent a comm to Central command on their progress.

On sleep cycle thirty, they had their last fuel resupply and entered the final stretch of the journey to Ariel. By this point, Lance was certain Commander Thace would've asked him to send another comm out to his contacts, but at the end of every shift, Lance found himself disappointed. Since coming on the ship, the Commander had avoided Lance except to have him log his routine comm to Central for him.

You did blackmail him, Lance reminded himself. That might have something to do with it.

Sendak and Haxus might also be watching Thace—a more likely scenario.

For once, Lance followed orders and kept to himself. That wouldn't have been hard except Hunk kept trying to talk to him. He'd come up to the comm room several times, but Lance kept his distance when Hunk visited. Normally, he would've been glad for the company after his lonely time in the Galra military, but talking to Hunk might compromise him. It seemed harmless enough to let Hunk play Space Whale Invaders, and Hunk had gotten better about avoiding officers when he came to visit Lance in the comm room.

If he hadn't been under orders, Lance would've tried to maybe go with Hunk and hang out with the other Galra soldiers. But if he was going to find this weapon, he had to keep to himself.

What would happen when they—him and Thace—did find the weapon? Lance wondered, staring at the blank screen in front of him with his chin propped on his hands. Since he first read the message, he hadn't given much of a thought as to what it would mean. Commander Thace's message had been clear—he would destroy the weapon before he let Sendak bring it back.

That was for the best, Lance decided. The Galra didn't need another weapon. If his price for leaving Central was a bit of sabotage...no guilt there.

If he didn't get caught.

Lance's insides twisted, and he pushed that thought away. He couldn't think about that...treason was punishable by death. Of course, they'd probably torture and imprison him first.

When Lance went to log his routine comm, a small message was attached at the bottom, It read 'the fourth engine room in two vargas', which was when he got off his shift. Finally, some word, he thought, and his repressed excitement sustained Lance until the end of his shift.

Lance went to the fourth engine, trying not to slouch or look guilty. He felt as if an invisible aura that smelled of traitor wafted off him. When he got to the engine room, he used his hearing to navigate his way through the steamy air, which was produced by the giant engine. To keep it from overheating, fluid tubes wrapped around it, and those steamed to release the heat. Lance stood beside one of the hissing tubes while it vented steam, skulking against the tube.

"Good—you're on time," Thace said, appearing like a shadow from the other side of the engine. Lance started but composed himself.

"Reporting for treason," Lance said acidly. The Command shot Lance a scathing look that made him regret his little quip. "Sorry sir...no jokes, sir."

"On this ship, always assume you could be watched," Thace said, glancing around. Surveying Lance, he said, "I wondered who you reported to, but you're an amateur."

At that, Lance stiffened. "I'm not an amateur—I have many...many spy skills."

Thace sighed. "You do have some skill, and now, you're going to put that to use."

Lance's ears pricked, and he forced himself to remain rooted and not bounce on his toes. This was what he'd come for—some type of adventure—something outside of the bitter life of an unwanted Central Command soldier. As a bonus, he'd get to screw over the empire that he didn't want to serve to begin with.

"I want you to send a test communication to see how closely the channels are being watched," Thace said. "I suspect the answer is quite closely, so I don't want to risk a real message until I'm certain."

"That should be easy enough," Lance said, leaning back and crossing his arms like talking about sabotaging the empire was something he did every day. Well...now that was sort of true, he thought.

"They can't trace it to you," Thace said, shooting Lance a level glance. "I can't protect you if you're caught."

Lance swallowed hard. "I understand."

If he was caught sending an unauthorized messaged, he'd be labeled a spy. If he turned Thace in, no one would believe him now. He was in too deep to get caught.

"Second, I want you to develop a private comm channel for us on Ariel," Thace said. He fixed Lance with another over-serious glance. "When this weapon is found, I won't let it fall into the empire's hands. Do you understand what that means?"

Wetting his dry mouth, Lance whispered, "We're going to destroy it."

"Probably," Thace muttered, glancing away. He furrowed his brows in concentration. "If we have to...if we can."

Lance held his tongue, too afraid to ask about the weapon again. He suspected there was no wheedling he could do to get Thace to tell him more, so he let it alone. He said, "I'll build a channel. On planet, it shouldn't be difficult to have a private link. I'll scramble the signal so it can't be picked up."

"Make it so," Thace said and snapped out of his thoughts. He gave Lance a curt nod and walked away. When he was gone, Lance's shoulders sagged. Instead of turning the Commander in, he'd truly decided to become complicit in spying on the empire. Now, instead of just knowing about the treason, he was about to become a partner in crime.

It was too late to turn back.

Lance worked on the private comm channel first. It was easy enough to swipe some spare parts to build a scrambler. He set up the channel but didn't activate it. On the ship, there was no reason to, and it would attract suspicion. When they were on Ariel, he would give Thace a scrambler for his comm device, too. In the chaos of hunting for the weapon, Lance assumed he would get time to turn it on and test it.

The second task—setting up the fake message—proved more difficult. This wasn't because Lance didn't know what he was doing, but he was never alone in the comm room. If he sent it while he was on his shift, they'd trace it back to him.

If it's being monitored as closely as Thace thinks, they'll definitely trace it to your station, Lance thought. He had only five shifts left to send the message before they reached Ariel.

His opportunity came when he arrived for his fourth to last scheduled shift early. After the long journey, all of the comm soldiers had become familiar with each other coming and going. Lance hadn't tried to make friends with them, but they'd developed a bland yet functional work relationship.

"I'll cover for you so you can leave early," Lance told his fellow cadet, Ordell, who left his station with brief thanks. Lance waited at his station and worked until Ordell had left the room. Then, when he was alone before the other soldiers came in, Lance went over to Ordell's empty station.

With a pang of guilt, Lance sat down at Ordell's station and waited until he had left. Then, Lance sent the comm, which would pingback and travel to a dummy folder on the ship. After sending it, Lance went to his own station to work. Half-way through his shift, Commander Sendak strode imperiously into the room.

Hunkering down, Lance ignored the Commander, who sat down at Ordell's now vacant station. After looking through the folders, he recorded something on a chip before striding away again. When he'd gone, Lance exhaled.

"What was he looking for?" another comm soldier asked. Lance shrugged, but the two other soldiers on duty shot each other pained looks. Neither Commander had come to the comm room during the journey—they had underlings to send messages for them. Sendak's personal attention meant something ominous—that the comm had been traced by him personally.

Lance wanted to tell Thace, but he had no way of letting the Commander know without sending a message. After Sendak's intrusion, he couldn't risk it.

When Sendak came back into the comm room with Thace, Ordell, and Haxus in tow, Lance blanched. His ears flattened out of instinct, but Lance took several deep breaths, forcing himself to relax. Haxus turned towards the three on duty comm soldiers. "Get out. We've business here."

Lance scurried away before Ordell could call out to him.

"Sir! It wasn't—"

"I know a lie when I smell one," Sendak said in a low, gravelly voice. "Let's have a little investigation, shall we? I know you send the comm. It was a clever, little ploy—a test of our defenses right at the end."

The door shut behind Lance, and he forced himself to walk back to the barracks on wobbly, jelly legs. He lay down in his bunk and put on music to calm himself. His hands shook, so he clenched them by his side. Screwing his eyes shut, he waited in the dark through heavy heartbeats.

Surely, Ordell would turn him in. He'd seen him come in early. Sendak would know when the comm was sent. Swallowing loudly, Lance waited for the inevitable—

But it never came. In six vargas, his comm beeped, waking him for his next shift.

Lance approached the comm room with hesitant steps as if expecting an ambush. When none came, he sunk down at his panel. He hadn't been caught—at least, not yet. In less than forty vargas, they'd land on Ariel, and the real mission would begin.