Eon's Edge (A Time-warped space opera)

T-MINUS 35 MINUTES TO CRISIS-POINT

"To prevent Gerhardt from possibly resuscitating Neville." Bryce finished through gritted teeth.

"Caldwell, the first aid kit," Bryce ordered.

"Y-yes, Com- c-captain." The Midshipman's hand shook as he transferred the medical kit.

Bryce shook his smooth-shaven head as he tried to grapple with these events, while not processing them emotionally.

His wife had told Bryce that his heavy brow ridge shaded his dark eyes pantherishly when he scowled, like now as he sealed the bleeding flank of the young Ensign.

Don't let the rest of the crew see my shoulders shaking. he tried not to think.

The MP's had the traitor in cuffs, and battle was imminent. If it could be that simple. Focus on the task at hand, not Neville's seat.

"Comman – uh... Captain," Ensign Xia rasped.

"Save your strength." He cradled the young ensign as she shuddered, throat clenching. Xia moaned as Bryce pressed synthflesh liquid to the wound, before applying pressure by tying his own sleeve around her middle.

"Caldwell, Enemy status. Then come here and apply pressure to Xia's wounds until a replacement medic arrives."

The Midshipman opened his mouth to speak but paused to gaze at the blood on his own hand transferred from Bryce. He swallowed, turning back to his console. "Jean-Zhou can temporarily assume your normal functions."

Both young officers nodded.

"Continuing previous course but...I detected an anomaly. In the rear of the formation leaving Ariel. A lone ship left behind. Looks like the tonnage of a cruiser, but - something about its energy profile is unusual - and it's heading for the String." Caldwell stole a forlorn glance at his screen while he went to aid Xia.

"Get me an active scan. And continue to monitor the String for any ship proximities or output changes." He swallowed past the lump in his throat

The battle. We're going into battle. Focus, his internal voice ordered.

He swiped a blood-speckled hand, and a holo-screen blossomed before Bryce of a sprawling stellar anomaly. Doubt teased in the back of his mind. Why would a traitor act now? Could he have waited until battle was joined? How did the String factor into the enemy strategy? He again contemplated the throbbing space-time fracture as he jacked into the bridge tactical computer once more.

"Authorization Code: Al-Ghazali, delta-zulu-zulu, Access most recent Captain's Log. Private Implant. The program read his eye-twitches to fast-forward past the time-stamp.

"What are we to make of this Cosmic String reports?" Neville's recorded logs continued playing in the edge of Bryce's vision, for his eyes and ears only.

"The Mark 1 eyeball registers a wavy streak in space." Neville's nasal voice narrated. There shouldn't be any earth-shattering revelations here, but Bryce couldn't rule it out. He continued to listen, but with most of his attention on the active readouts. "This Cosmic String represents a hazard unprecedented in history, political or geological - as far as this old soldier knows. Our multi-spectral instruments show coruscating auras of radiation weaving within and between each other like a canvas of rainbow paint rung out by a madman. Here, the space around the eccentric tilt of Uranus is ablaze with Big Bang left-overs, corkscrewing around each other. Singularities capping either end tortured the light with gravitational lensing. Why would the Sovereign Worlds muster their fleets here of all places?" Neville's recording shook his head.

"The only halfway rational tactic would be to lure the United Nations Armada close to the anomaly, then pin us against the Singularity at the head of the thing, limiting the advantage of our greater speed."