Terrorform Part 1

The office door opened so soundlessly that Lieutenant Jane Briarwood didn’t even look up from the pile of reports that had overrun her desk, each more mundane than the last. This is not what she had signed up for or what her teenage self-had looked up at the stars and dreamed of.

   She remembered that lonely teenage girl on the agricultural world of Rowlatt VII with fondness. The long walks in the rolling green countryside, laying under the broad Medri Oak atop of the Boxleigh hill embedded in a book about alien life and structures on distant planets. She had made up her mind at fourteen that she was going to escape the drudgery of rural life and see the stars.

   To her youthful mind it had all seemed so simple and getting in the Academy at Belgarum had been as most applicants wanted to be Marines, fighter pilots or Ship’s officers not xeno-archaeologists. She had arrived on system in the midst of the worst storm in a century and it had all she could do to get from the shuttle to the Administration building with out being washed away. The great grey brick building loomed out of the darkness as an oppressive big black shadow illuminated by cracks of lightening that highlighted the outline making it seem even more oppressive like a haunted house from one of the Horror movies her brother had made her watch. As she saw joined the stream of young adults running towards the building clutching her books and pack of uniform she could hear her brother’s words in her head;
“What are you doing? Run away from the creepy house!”

   After such an inauspicious start and a few lonely nights in her room with nothing but her books for company things began to get more interesting. Despite the Academy being a Military facility the discipline for mission specialists was a lot lighter than for the regular recruits despite the first semester of Basic training including fire arms, swamp missions, morning cross country runs and shouting, shouting and more shouting from a spiteful little man with the smallest gold braid any NCO had ever worn but somehow conferred upon him some sort of deity style superiority over the mere mortal recruits. She was glad when she was moved across to her specialist’s training program in which they were given quite a run of freedom including practice digs out on the veld. By the end of four years studying she had left on a glorious sunny day and her eyes were filled with bright promise and hope for the future clutching her diploma in one hand and her assignment papers in the other. It didn’t take long for the bubble to burst.

   Her first two years were spent aboard the great Battle-cruiser Kraken where she was only called upon for one planetary mission only to find the First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Miller had written down the wrong name and instead of the vessel’s marine biologist, Lieutenant Maeve Underwood they had got the ship’s only archaeologist whose shovel and can-do attitude was completely wasted on the Oceanic world. She watched younger cadets get promoted past her and the boredom had seriously begun to eat at her morale when through chance a golden opportunity had slid across her desk. The Institute on Dremeridius VII was looking for a student professor and tenured researcher into temples in the sector.

   She couldn’t get off the Kraken fast enough and found herself in Archaeologist’s paradise. The station was set on a rural agricultural world that was very similar to where she had grown up with beautiful walks, inviting green woodlands but with the bonus of an Academy grade library and research facilities. Despite being one of only three women and half the age of most of the academics she was respected and treated as if she had always been there. She had her own office and space to sit and write papers, maybe go on two digs a year to the nearby Dremerdius IV with its flowing blue rivers and hazy meadows that swam through the methane atmosphere. Before she knew it fourteen years had passed her by and she found herself catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. The first few line had begun forming at the corner of her eyes and a thin streak of grey had developed in her jet black hair which ran from just behind her left ear and ran down to her shoulder blade.

   Jane had never been particularly vain about her looks, she had always taken care of herself with regular exercise and her pale blue eyes, light freckling across her nose and soft features had led many to consider her pretty. “Not beautiful but pretty like a field mouse” as her mother would say. The grey hair did act as a prompt for her to consider what she was doing with her life and her choice of assignment. Dremerdius was comfortable, it offered great resources for study and writing but was it what she wanted in the long term? Did she want to end her career here like the other officers or join the brass plates on the memorial wall of the library for death in service? Death from old age.

   Before she could deliberate on the question the Endeavour had arrived in orbit.

   An expedition to Nygma IX had been put together and the Sector Council wanted an archaeological survey carried out before Endeavour’s teraformers began their work. Lieutenant Commander Devonshire, the lead archaeologist had at first hoped to expand his field team but on discovering that most of the facility’s staff were well past the age of active duty so he settled for Jane and her knowledge of ancient temples in the sector. It was true she had written extensively on the subject for three years and was the first to map and theorise that the Dremeridius temple was a blue print for twelve similar temples across the sector all clearly made by the same race. After saying good bye to her friends and colleagues and her adopted cat, Mittens, she had boarded Endeavour full of enthusiasm and expectation for the future operation.

   That was four months ago.

   Since then her daily routine had involved her daily run around the ship, answering queries, checking and inventorying all of the Archaeological equipment and repeat. The only silver lining was they were finally only a day away from Nygma.

“Good Morning Jane.” Came the familiar dry monotone voice of Commander Devonshire. “Wearing your hair down today?”

She slowly pulled herself from the reminisces to meet his affable smile. “Sorry Sir, I’ve not got around to putting it up yet.”

“No, no, don’t worry” he raised his hands defensively “I like it. We’re fairly informal here.”

That they were.
“Listen,” he began without missing a beat. “I don’t want you to check the equipment this afternoon.”

She felt her eyes widen with surprise but managed to recompose herself before Devonshire noticed but she couldn’t hide the surprise from her voice. “Really sir?”

“Yes. We’re near position and we need to be ready to deploy our equipment and I need everything inventoried and taken to the main shuttle bay.”

“Yes Sir.” She answered in the defeated monotone that was rapidly becoming her signature voice. “I’ll do it immediately.”

 

She stood in the lift staring in the middle distance counting the floors off one by one. Endeavour was not a particularly large ship with its eighteen decks and two hundred metre length and an additional hundred for the engine module. The Crew of seventy-five was quite small and in the course of this seemingly torturous journey she had met all of them. There were of course the engineers, victualling staff, a small security detail and a host of mission specialists like herself. Most of the crew seemed friendly and she did enjoy the fact that she was recognised by her colleagues as she walked down the corridors rather than the faceless anonymity of life on the Kraken where she had been a face in thousands, a nameless nobody alone in the crowd.
   The lift door opened and the familiar featureless white corridor that led to the main security office burst into view with its over powering white strip lighting offending her eyes which had grown used to the comparative semi darkness of the rest of the ship. She paused at the non-descript metal door and pushed the intercom knowing full well that she had already been seen on the security cameras and a scuffle will have broken out as to who would get to the door first. She closed her eyes making an educated guess as to who was on duty who had got there first last time and the time of day.

“Morning Jane, you’re early.” – It was Jack, as always.

Staff Sergeant Jack Renfield was in his early thirties with a slightly receding blonde hair line and a pair of sparkling grey eyes that spelt mischief.

“Well he wants to make doubly certain the equipment is fully functioning and operable for tomorrow. Would you mind opening the stores one last time and escorting me to the shuttle bay please?” She favoured him with her brightest smile and saw him blush a broad shade of pink.

“Sure Jane, let me go get the key card.” And with that he darted back into the office.

  She continued on mental autopilot as she tried to remember how many times she had been down this corridor since coming aboard. It must be once may be twice a day and she had memorised how many floor panels there were, where the security proximity alarms, how many footsteps it took before Jack would appear in the door to the second. The boring off-white walls and scratched dull steel deck plates no longer offended her and she had worryingly become accustomed to it. She reached the first of the heavy black security doors that lined the corridor and paused to look at its unremarkably shiny surface. There were four more doors, each sealed with the two card locks and monitored by cameras and door alarms. She was not certain what each of the stores held but one belonged to the terraformers and one to the Science teams and she guessed one belonged to the Security team for their heavier weapons but in honesty, she was not certain. She could ask Jack and he would no doubt spill the beans, he always did, but part of her really didn’t want to know. She could not be guilty of anything if she could honestly plead ignorance.

It always unnaturally hot in the secure corridor and she subconsciously unbuttoned her naval blue uniform jacket to reveal her bleached white undershirt. She was just unbuttoning her collar when the main door swung open and a jacketless Jack strolled nonchalantly into the corridor whistling and swinging the security key card on the end of its lanyard.

“Devonshire does now all of his equipment is held in a stasis field so is unaffected by any external stimulus and that to get to it you need both our keys and disable a whole host of alarms?”

“You would hope so.” Jane forced a smile as she pushed her key card into the first lock.

As the door opened with the his of escaping compressed air she entered in her security code, 703639, onto the keypad within the stores and the lights beyond within the cavern lit up to reveal several large wooden crates sat in the middle of the floor. She turned back to Jack still holding onto the smile.

“I’ll start with the inventory and final checks and I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready to leave.”
“No problem,” he paused “are you going planetside in the morning?”
“Yes, I’m quite looking forward to it.” This time the smile was not forced and the joy of finally getting off this ship and doing something she enjoyed.

“If you would like, and you have a spare hour tonight, would you like me to go through basic weapons training? When was the last time you fired your side arm?”

She looked him up and down noting the slight paunch of a man who spent most of his time working at computer screens. “When was the last time you fired yours?”

Jack’s face fell under the acidic blast and he muttered an almost inaudible retraction as he turned to leave.

Guilt bubbled through Jane as she realised her defensive whiplash tongue had got the better of her. Jack was pretty much the only member of the crew that she spoke to on a regular basis and was probably the closest thing she had to a friend. Everyone seemed fairly nice but she still felt like an outsider at times especially that she, as a woman, was in the minority. As the voyage had worn on she had been propositioned by more than a few of the male crew but following a spate of unwanted advances often foiled by some of her best acidic putdowns, Mr Miles, the ship’s Second officer, had stepped in to resolve the situation. She knew she wasn’t the only woman on crew to suffer the same way.

“Jack, wait.” She sighed. “Look, I’m off duty from 18:00 hours. Why don’t we get something to eat in the Officer’s mess? I’ll even vouch for you Sergeant.” She tried her most infectious grin and attempted a quick wink which she feared came off rather clumsily through lack of practice. Her gamble paid off as a soft smile slowly touched his lips but soon spread like wildfire across his face.
“Thanks, I’d like that.” He said with a gentle nod. “I’ll meet you there.”

She watched Jack quickly take his leave of her and she couldn’t help but smile. There was something about him that reminded her of… She suddenly winced as the painful memory came rushing to the surface clawing at her heart with steel daggers and buried deep and it took all of her mental strength to supress it. A long time had passed since she had thought about Ed. An even longer time recovering from his loss, a recovery which had been one of the positives of her long stay at Dementrius.

First Lieutenant Ed van Dahl had been a young, vibrant fighter pilot with a glittering career ahead of him. He was a son, a brother, a friend and her soulmate. They had met in the Kraken’s library and had got talking about Kadbulian architecture, the lost civilisation of Zerroud and the possibility of alien cultures transporting between temples through an She never thought she would have an in depth conversation with another officer not in her field let alone with a fighter pilot. As first she thought it was a a practical joke but the more they spoke the more she realised that his knowledge was too deep for someone who had just grazed the surface.

They had gone for dinner a few times, shared leave and spent as much of their off-duty time as they could. She had felt like she had known him all of her life, that within the short period of knowing him they had become intrinsically linked like two symbionts working for the benefit of the whole host. Now she thought back about it she could only scoff at how cheesy it sounded but they finished each other’s sentences and engaged each other on an intellectual level. She feared that she was only with him as he was the first person on the ship to notice her existence but deep down she knew it was more than that. On the Anniversary of their first deep discussion in the Library he took her back to Rowlatt VII and took her for a picnic under her tree. In the streaming sunshine he had asked her to marry him. It had all been perfect, too perfect. Within a week he was dead. His Nautilus fighter had ploughed into the ground during a routine patrol, the cause of which was thought to have been a clogged intake valve caused by sloppy maintenance. She had been devastated. She went to see her supervising officer to try and get leave and it took twenty minutes for Lieutenant Commander Potts to realise who Jane was and five minutes to refuse the request on the grounds that they were not married. Colonel Mahltzahn, Ed’s commanding officer, had come to see her and to express the Group’s sadness at his lost. He had sat with her for an hour as she cried into her pillow. He tried to be as supportive as he could, but she could tell this was not his forte and that he was torn from doing his duty and escaping. When she finally managed to get a grip of herself she had thanked him for his time and support and the Colonel offered to help her any time she ever needed him, but she never saw him again. Thankfully her role aboard ship was so minimal that she could just drop off the radar and spend time alone deep in the bowels of the vessel surrounded by her books and papers and only have to attend basic staff meetings once a week. It was difficult though as everything aboard ship reminded her of him and then like a life line the offer to join the Dementrius facility came along.

Now, several years later she was going for dinner one on one with someone for the first time since Mahltzahn had fled her quarters and she was feeling strangely elated at the prospect. She had always felt that the name “Officer’s mess” was much nicer sounding than perhaps it was. Despite the oak panelling and table cloths it was after all a windowless box. She entered the nearly empty Mess wearing the required Dress uniform white jacket, her three tour of duty ribbons and two miniature medals which she would rather not wear as they only signified that she had turned up for duty. For her serving in the fleet was not about military awards or glorious combat – in fact it wasn’t even for the betterment of the Human race rather for her studies. There were days that her morale was so low that any day where she could be left alone to read and write and still get paid was a good day.
“Table for one sir?” A white jacketed rating on Mess duty approached her. He had an air of arrogance and if she didn’t know better she would have thought he was looking down his nose at her.
“No thank you, two please. I have a guest coming.”
“Very good sir.” The rating gestured to a table in the far corner with two uncomfortable wooden chairs adorned with small green cushions, at least it would afford them some privacy.
No sooner had she sat down than Jack appeared in the doorway, his jacket immaculately white and adorned with six tour ribbons and several impressive looking medals and a Galactic Cross at his throat. She had never thought of him as a warrior, he was just Jack, the portly security officer who unlocked the store door and flirted badly with her. She stood up and awaited his approach, but Jack seemed to be having a disagreement with the rating at the door, although their voices were kept at a respectful volume they were clearly arguing. Eventually the snobby rating approached her and began to talk down his nose to her.
“This… Sergeant claims to be invited sir.”
She straightened her back and tried to put on her best commanding officer impression. “Indeed, that is true crewman.”
“Sir, I must remind you that according to Ship’s regulations no NCO or crewman not on Mess Duty is strictly forbidden from the Officer’s Mess.”
Jane became painfully aware of other officers looking up from their meals and drinks and all eyes were locked on the two creating a scene. As if the moment was not uncomfortable enough someone cleared their throat in a derisive way and that was enough for her.
“Jane, it doesn’t matter.” Jack caught her eye. “I’ll see you another time.”
She could see his embarrassment and that he was fading fast under the negative attention yearning to get back to the safety of the security office. Suddenly she was embarrassed for him and she wanted to escape as well. As her resolve faded away all she could bring herself to do was nod acceptingly and flee towards the door and her friend mouthing “I’m sorry.”
“Its ok.” He forced a smile “I’m used to it. Sergeant’s mess?”
“That would be great.” She nodded “If it is acceptable for an officer to be in there!”
They both laughed and she stole a glance up at her friend and how relaxed he was becoming as if the whole incident had never happened “Tell me something. Where did you get your Galactic Cross?”
He half laughed. “I found it at the bar, one of the officers left it whilst drinking.”
She slapped his arm “Come on. You’ve not worn it before.”
Jack slipped into quiet thought. “I don’t like to wear it, it reminds me of a horrible time in my life. I got it for saving a wounded soldier and dragging him a mile back to our lines under heavy fire. Had I known he was an officer I probably would have left him there.”
Jane looked into his sad grey eyes and tried to gauge whether he was being serious or not. His eyes looked haunted by memories of that day and many others on a distant battlefield. She realised that she barely knew the man beside her, she had completely misjudged him and now she had so many questions for him she felt that this was neither the time or the place and they lapsed into a not uncomfortable silence.
   Finally he spoke slowly and with purpose. “Jane, tomorrow you’re going into the unknown and despite what these experts think it is exceptionally dangerous. Promise me that you will be careful and don’t be a hero. Run if you need to.”