Pax Novis

Chapter Four

Halver hummed, his fingers moving across controls and his display quickly shifting through multiple programs and systems. Halver was handsome, his black hair always perfect, his smile usually wide and happy, his brown eyes expressive, and his body perfectly honed to fill the fitted black, gray, and white on-board uniform. He could be almost annoyingly boisterous and impulsive at times, especially when on shore leave, but there was a reason he'd risen to the second-highest rank on the ship before he turned thirty. He was driven when it counted and damned smart. In moments like this, Cira could maybe get an inkling of why the crush Shadow noticed had developed in the first place; Malcolm needed someone to loosen him up a little bit, and Halver needed someone who could appreciate his professional side as much as, or more than, his goofball antics.

Just like Riston's sense of humor balances out your tendency to take everything too seriously? The thought rose faster than she could squash it, and she ducked her head, lips tingling as she remembered the brief kiss she'd impulsively pressed to zir cheek. Maybe she had more in common with Halver than she'd thought. She'd always known she was asexual—well, always from the moment she knew the orientation existed—but she'd spent a long time wondering if she was aromantic as well. The fact that she'd always looked at the relationship her mothers had and quietly yearned for something just like it for herself, fractious though it could be at times, was what had kept her from a firm declaration. Moments with Riston, however, were different. Warmth had swept through her when ze revealed zir present, and it had filled her to the point of bursting with it until she had to do something. Rare though they were, impulses like those were some of the few real signs that she fell somewhere other than aromantic on that spectrum.

A few minutes later, Halver recaptured her attention with a flick of his fingers. Sensor logs now covered half of the bridge's main display, and he sat back, his hands resting on the arms of the chair and his eyes never leaving the screen. Sixteen different PSSC Control relay sensors spread along one of the main shipping routes had logged the passage of Pax Feris. Passive identification only; no return response recorded.

"At least we know they haven't exploded," Cira hesitantly offered.

"And I honestly don't know if that makes it better or worse," the commander said, gesturing at the screen. "Everyone not working on a priority task, dig into this. See what you can find out about their last port and recent past. Use every source and system we have access to. I want a report for the captain before the shift rotation."

The bridge crew immediately switched gears. Cira was already in several of the programs and files she needed. In her periphery, she could see three of the other five officers joining her. Only the lieutenants on helm and security remained locked in to their own systems and duties. Cira and the other three dug through records—both internally through PSSC Control and in the broader intersystem archives. When anything that might be relevant was found, they flicked it up to the main display. Soon, none of the normal sensor readouts or course projections could be seen; the entire front wall of the bridge was filled with reports from PSSC Control, security logs from Pax Feris's last port of call, news feeds, message captures, and more. With a sharp gesture, Halver organized them into chronological order.

Terra-Sol date 3814.217 — News-feed report: Rationing on Raasora Sparks Riots

Terra-Sol date 3814.222 — Pax Feris Cargo manifest PCCSF-814.222.62.1998 logged with PSSC Control from Raasora Station, Draconis System

Terra-Sol date 3814.224 — News-feed report: Anti-War Group Claims Credit for Theft of Military Medical Supplies on Raasora

Scattered among the other details were Pax Feris's daily communications summaries. There weren't any details, just a simple breakdown of incoming signals, outgoing messages, and passive receiver pings. For the last ten days, there had been hundreds of incoming signals, dozens of receiver pings, and zero outgoing signals. The ship hadn't just gone dark; it had all but fallen into a communications black hole.