Tranquility Lost

Chapter 11: X-Factors

What's it like to drift through space?

Your breath leaving your body. Freezing in the intense cold. What thoughts must rush through your mind at such a point? I'd nearly died myself, kept alive by a cryo bed and advanced surgical procedures. I still remember the frost permeating my body as I felt my life drifting away. It was probably more than a bit like that... the doom that I'd given to sixty of my fellow men and women...

"Captain Torres, I presume!"

My thoughts were cut short by a tall man approaching down the corridor. The man had a model's build, wearing aviator glasses, a blue beret, and a tan uniform sporting unidentifiable badges. He casually folded his glasses away and smiled at me, though the smile didn't quite reach his pale blue eyes.

"Major Jacob Dempsey. Or the Mission Commander's Troubleshooter, as they call me."

I hadn't heard anyone call him that, but even now you could fill a spaceship with all the knowledge I lacked. So I nodded and accepted the hand he offered in lieu of a salute. The man's grip was tight. So was mine.

"Captain Torres."

I almost threw in a you know, of the Last Stand on Merrit Island, but I figured the less said the better. Besides, though there was something irritating about the guy, it seemed we'd be working together.

"I'm surprised they didn't throw you in with the rest of the mudborn. Ah... pardon me."

I shrugged. Before I could answer, our datapads both chimed. At the same time, the hatchway across from us beeped and flashed green. I wasn't about to stand on ceremony. I opened the hatchway, eager to see the Mission Commander and get a sense of the person behind the title. Of course I'd never been on Tranquility prior to being frozen, but I'd interacted with plenty of staff involved in the New Terra Project: trainers, maintenance supervisors, and then security personnel once I'd been transferred, with the situation in Florida falling into chaos.

Never had I gotten fascist vibes from them.

So I was curious to see just what this Mission Commander was like. After all, the fish rots from its head, and this whole situation seemed rotten to the core. Putting down mutinies was one thing, if the rebels were stir-crazy or had crazy demands. But even in the few days I'd been part of Bridge Security I was hearing all about their history of food blockades and brutal repression. Did it really have to be like that?

Of course, I could hardly claim to be any better. I'd just spaced sixty people hours ago. No doubt I'd end up being called a butcher in mutineer propaganda. Here I was, freshly thawed and whipping up new kinds of war crimes.

I just hoped it was all worth it in the end.

"Glad you could join us," Colonel Anderson said, greeting us in the dim light as we entered. We were in a large room by the ship's standards, and the arrangement of bland gray furniture almost reminded me of a small community theater. At his gesture I took a seat, noticing that his bodyguard unit was present once again. Two of them were still bruised, one bearing a nasty patch on his left cheek. I winced even as I nodded in recognition. They inclined their teal berets one regulation inch before resuming their statue impersonation duties. "Major, I know you're already privy to much of this, but Tranquility wants me to get Captain Torres up to speed."

"Not a problem at all, sir," he replied, making himself comfortable a couple seats away from me. I remained silent, leaning back and studying the display as darkness turned to light.

"Let's just get into it, shall we?" Colonel Anderson gestured at the emerging light.

The flashing images resolved themselves into the shape of a middle-aged woman in business clothes, smiling genially below a pair of glasses. "Welcome, both of you. I am the shipboard artificial intelligence. You can call me Tranquility."