9 – Sabre Two
The Alliance's standard-issue navy turtleneck couldn't hold a candle to Gorman's own navy turtleneck, but it fit just fine and frankly that's all it needed to do. The fatigues' trousers slipped on firm. There was no time to tie the boots' shoelaces. It could have been worse, as evidenced by how small the top looked on Kalu and how Zaz had to keep a hand free to stop her waistband from slipping down. Other than all that, they looked like the very models of modern marine corporals.
The bridge of the ship looked sparse. White stopped anxiously twiddling his fingers by the bow's docking hatch as he saw the three crewmates approach. Out the cockpit's viewport the side of a substantially larger craft could be seen, white with blue markings. The pilot tapped on the display to the hatch's side. Gorman suddenly got the feeling that every pair of eyes in the room was looking at him, waiting for some sort of direction. Worryingly, even the 'retired' Alliance veteran White was awaiting his command.
"Follow my lead," he announced, very much unsure of what such a lead would be. He pointed at the crew and spots on the floor. The trio ambled into position. All the while, muffled laser noises were coming from beyond the hatch, along with a familiar 'Decontamination in progress' voice.
The hatch split open. Gentle mist poured out, followed shortly by three figures.
The front man was short, pale, and scarred by a particularly visible gash down his cheek. His dark hair was covered by a navy kepi bearing the Alliance insignia, and a deep blue and gold theme continued for the much more formal military-wear he had on. His shoulders had three gold straps – rank, perhaps? It was remarkably clean, as far as military uniforms Gorman knew. No indication of medals or even a nametag. A personal choice for humility's sake?
He was flanked on either side by what Gorman had to assume were true Alliance marines. They had dark blue battle armor, an upgraded version of Kalu's company green piece with more padding, more metal, more protection, and in general more intimidation. Their stern faces were underneath berets, and in their arms were Lancer rifles just like the one White had cracked out of the fuel barrel for him not long ago.
"Attention on deck!" exclaimed White, snapping into a salute. Gorman, and immediately thereafter Kalu and Zaz, followed suit.
"At ease," calmy responded the officer. Hands were lowered across the bridge. The Commander was surprised by his gruff Glaswegian accent. "Where's your CO?"
Gorman cleared his throat and stepped forward to greet him. For a brief second he locked eyes with the two marines. Their icy gazes were enough to make him shiver.
This time it was the officer saluting.
"Captain Chen, SSV Antwerp."
Gorman's mind was as sharply focused as it could on playing along. He made for one last salute.
"Commander Gorman…sir."
Not sharp enough to come up with a good ship name, unfortunately. Captain Chen sized up him and down and winced, but Gorman got the strangest feeling that it wasn't just because he couldn't name his own vessel.
"…Give me a sitrep, Commander. The Seventh's been mobilized to counterattack against a geth incursion in this system. Can you confirm?"
"I can confirm, sir," Gorman exhaled, "A geth fleet and flagship were attacking Eden Prime, then broke off and fled. Civilian casualties…unknown but not total."
The Captain and his soldiers let down their guard for just a second. Expressions of surprise flashed across their faces before being replaced with their normal stoicism. It was as if they really hadn't expected the answer to be so forthright…or so bad. If millions live on Eden Prime as White said, it wouldn't be a surprise if they knew people down there.
"You saw the geth firsthand on the planet?" Chen enquired, this time hoping that the Commander was lying.
"We didn't see the initial attack, just the aftermath. Fought stragglers. Seemed like the geth were after a prothean beacon there."
"A prothean beacon? On Eden Prime?"
"It's broken now, down at the spaceport. Survivors were convinced it's why the geth showed up," Gorman corrected and added. In his mind, he was vigorously debating whether to tell him about the vision he received as well. His military credibility was already low enough despite telling the truth, was there any need to plunge it even further by telling his now-superior officer about a bad nightmare?
Chen looked at Kalu, then Zaz, then back to White, for any reason to doubt their CO's word.
"And you're flying this ship in pursuit?" the Captain continued, giving the bridge a sweeping glance. The fact that a transport ship only had four people in it surely gave him even more unease.
"Heading back to Earth, sir," chimed in Kalu. Gorman swung his head around.
"Speak when spoken to, soldier," grated Chen, pointing an authoritative finger. "Besides, that's not an option. Fleet Command's issued Sabre Two in this sector. We all know what that means."
"…Of course, Captain," acknowledged Gorman. Kalu fell silent.
"Which fleet does this – as of yet nameless – ship fall under, Commander?"
"Unknown, sir. It was a…requisition."
Captain Chen let out a large sigh. One of his troopers tapped him on the shoulder, gestured him aside and whispered in his ear. Chen returned to face the ship's crew, tugging down his dress jacket.
"I don't have time to deal with this, and, against perhaps better judgement, I don't just want you to be someone else's problem. You're ready to return to active duty."
"…Yes, sir."
"Wasn't a question, Commander. Now, here's the deal: before this geth mess started we were trying to 'solve' a 'problem' in the Gemini Sigma cluster. I trust you understand that when batarians are involved, we get a little cautious."
"Damn right, Captain."
"Good. Then I can also trust you to take care of it for us. Planet Mavigon, Han system. Coordinates and details are all yours."
One of his soldiers made for their arm's omni-tool, and then, noticing nobody lifting up their own in response – Kalu stunned into inaction – they grabbed something from their back and handed it to White. A small, blinking contraption.
"Obviously, as simple as it would have been, we couldn't send the Antwerp to meet them, much less blast them from orbit," Chen lamented. "An Alliance cruiser that close to batarian space? The batarians would be pissed, which is just how they are, but the Council would be up our asses and these days that's a no-go."
Chen put up his arms as if presenting the ship all around them.
"That's why we need your ship. It's small enough, presumably fast enough, has a gun on it, and doesn't even have a name. The perfect stealth ship, if you ask me. Report to me once the problem's solved, understood?"
"Aye aye, sir."
"Alright, stay safe out there," the Captain turned face, gesturing to his two friends to follow him out and return to the comfort of the Antwerp. Now mid-stride in the docking corridor, he nodded back to the crew one last time. "Oh, and Gorman? Do remember to tie your shoes next time. What would your mother think?"
With that, the hatch clapped shut, and the crew still aboard let out a big communal sigh. The Commander's plucky crew had been given a lifeline and not a court-martial as part of him expected, and at the low, low cost of yet another detour on the road back to Earth. How bad could it be? That perhaps perfectly summarized his ignorant state about the state of the galaxy. Rather than cycle through questions indefinitely in his mind like he usually did, he had the rare luxury of people to talk to – people that hopefully could shed some light into the dark.
The crew broke ranks, sitting and leaning wherever comfortable after maintaining military stillness for so long.
"Can you get us to…wherever he said?" the Commander asked White, who was staring at his new toy.
"Consider us there," White happily nodded, banking back towards his seat. "You handled yourself well, all things taken into account."
"How come he didn't know about the team of marines down on Eden Prime?" Zaz questioned.
"I thought they were local troops, like your Corporal Novak," said Kalu.
"No, Powell said at least a couple of them were definitely from off-planet. Strange how the Captain didn't know anything about the beacon, either."
"Not exactly common knowledge? They only just dug it up."
"At least Eden Prime is protected in case the geth come back," Gorman concluded. "And what was that about Sabre Two?"
"Alliance threat readiness level," White called from the loudspeaker, despite him being right there at the cockpit. "Sabre Five is galactic peace, everyone shaking hands, claws, tentacles, whatever. Four is normal, Three is caution, One is doomsday. Two? Two is somewhere in between, the highest Parliament will tolerate. Serious business. Pretty much war – hasn't been a Sabre Two alert since the Skyllian Blitz."
"And it means no civilian travel in any sector affected, if memory serves," added Kalu. "We had to be military and get our 'assignment', they'd confiscate this ship otherwise." He looked particularly glum, another chance for the homeworld foiled.
"Speaking of this ship…" Gorman began, "She needs a name. Something that makes it seem greater than a secondhand tin can. Lieutenant, what are Alliance transport ships named after?"
"Usually? Cities of Earth, specifically good ones. Big touristy ones are reserved for cruisers. Frigates are named after the great battles of history, but anything less important than a frigate and nobody really cares what you name it. There was transport ship called the SSV Flamingo we used for training near Arcturus Station. Hull was painted bright pink and everything."
"How about the Dublin?" Gorman therefore suggested. He'd always had a soft spot for the Irish capital, both before and after it was obliterated from orbit by Jacob's spaceship. With all White's talk about how Zaz hadn't really processed the devastation of Eden Prime, Gorman had been focused elsewhere but still felt an inner sadness about his relatively recent experience of seeing a great burning speck on Ireland's east coast.
"Admirable…but taken," was White's reply. "SSV Dublin's the cornerstone of the Arcturus Fleet. Named after the Alliance's European HQ, naturally one of the first cruisers out of human drydocks."
The Commander was somewhat stunned. The European headquarters? Built on what, a crater?
"What about the SSV Dublin 2?" Zaz chimed in, clearly bored. "Who cares about the name? It's just a ship."
"Just a ship?" rang an incredulous White.
"It might work, but it's still an old wreck that was slated for the scrapyard years ago."
"But enough about our Commander," Kalu laughed. "Why don't we name it after a famous historical figure? Like the SSV Napoleon, the SSV John Brown, the SSV Jay-Jay Okocha?"
"Oh come on, we could be debating individual humans in history for weeks, and that's not even including all the ones Gorman doesn't yet know about," remarked White. "Why not something valiant, like the SSV Invincible, or the SSV Pegasus? The SSV Endurance?
"Got it," announced Gorman. "The Shackleton. Historical figure, 'Endurance' by name and nature, Irish connection. Ticks all the boxes. Any objections?"
Nobody objected. Whether they refused to argue because they agreed with his choice – or because they had been poking fun at him since Chen's departure – remained a mystery.
And so the SSV Shackleton was officially christened. White would state that as soon as they found a space liquor store that a bottle of champagne was destined to be smashed on the ship's toucan-like beak. Needless to say, the crew were tired beyond measure from the constant stresses of Eden Prime to the unannounced Alliance inspection. Sluggishly they made their way to the bunks, getting ready for a good space slumber. The pilot manned his chair, keeping one eye awake as best he could for any more surprises.
However there was one more thing to alert the Commander to – and after another loudspeaker announcement Gorman approached the cockpit's view and almost fell to his knees in awe.
Out beyond the bow of the ship was a colossal bright structure dangling precariously in the vast dark. It looked if anything like a tuning fork. A tuning fork, as once described, fifteen kilometers long. At its off-center epicenter were spinning rings in orbit around a sphere of what could only be described as pure energy. It pulsed rhythmically blue in motion with the rings, and as the ship came in closer, the spinning started to pick up speed. It was breathtaking to witness, and incredible to consider how their comparatively miniscule craft could impact something so massive. White was tapping away with conviction on his holographic monitors, intent on showing off his relay-maneuvering skills. The spinning intensified, speeding up at exponential pace, and the rings got closer, and closer. White throttled his lever fully forward. The relay, now up close and personal, appeared to unbelievably stretch as the ship banked to be parallel to the fork's direction.
Like a galactic-scale slingshot, the relay let the Shackleton loose. Gorman couldn't fathom that he was literally seeing stars glide by out the window. Not a word was spoken, just dumbfounded wonder. With technology on this level, how could the protheans possibly have gone extinct?
Gorman wasn't sure how long the experience lasted. A minute? Five? Ten? Either way it ended with much less fanfare, stars screeching to 'regular' speeds and a similar relay pointed in the opposite direction somewhere below and to the right of the ship.
"Drift under 2000K this time," White proclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Don't tell Kabiru, he'll get jealous."
"Wow," was all the Commander could muster in response.
"Get some rest. I'll wake you when there's trouble."
Gorman once again trudged to the crew quarters, stumbled around in the darkness and clambered into a free bunk. He had enough to think about – this time there would be no horrific visions intruding his dreams.