Chapter 2:
He pulled back on the throttle, cutting power to non-essential systems to divert every ounce of energy to the failing deflector screens. It was a gamble, slowing down, but a dead ship with full shields was useless.
[Warning! Shields at 30%]
Right now, he was running out of time and out of options.
[Notice: Transmission online]
"Yes!!!" Silas couldn't hold back his emotions, screaming outright with joy. The sound was genuine, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and inexplicable hope.
Without hesitation, He slapped the accept button.
[Transmission: Cadet, what's the status?]
The voice on the other end was calm, filled with a professional deposition similar to a detached tone that came from a high-ranking officer safely ensconced in a fortified command center.
"Forgive me, Sir, but I'm afraid things have gone awry," Silas said, his words rushed and breathless.
He didn't hesitate to tell the voice on the transmission all that had transpired, from the moment of the ambush to the destruction of his entire squadron, to his current dire situation.
He painted a picture of unprovoked aggression and hopeless odds, emphasizing his own desperate fight for survival and the safekeeping of the cargo. He left nothing out, hoping his superiors would grasp the severity of the situation and the need for an immediate rescue.
[Transmission: I see. You have my heartfelt gratitude, cadet, for making it this far. Just one more question]
Silas was relieved to here the operators words but upon reaching the end of his sentence, he suddenly felt uneasy.
" Yes Sir?"
[Transmission: Did you or anyone of your squad members unseal the container, Cadet?]
The question was odd to Silas since he was expecting something else, but nevertheless, he spoke up since his life was practically on the line.
"Of course not, Sir!" Silas replied outright, the denial springing to his lips automatically.
How could he dare to do such a thing? The container was sealed with corporate logos and warnings, its contents a mystery he had no desire to solve.
Although even then, his voice was filled with uncertainty, a subtle waver that crept in as a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. He hadn't done it, but in the chaos of the ambush, could one of his men have panicked? Could someone have tried to see what was so valuable it was worth dying for? The thought left him feeling even more doubt.
[Transmission: 10% False Hoods Detected]
A robotic voice, flat and devoid of emotion, suddenly came from the other end of the transmission.
It wasn't Silas's ship's computer; it was a system on the other end, Silas wasn't a noob to the proceedings of the corps, that automated voice was definitely an AI-driven lie detector used by Internal Affairs as far as he was concerned.
His dark skin was suddenly slick with sweat, The words sliced through him, causing Silas's expression to pale greatly, the blood draining from his face as if he'd been hit by a strey bullet himself.
"Sir—!" Silas hurriedly tried explaining himself, his mind racing.
' Ten percent?' he thought, incredulous.
Ten percent might as well be the bases for uncertainty. He didn't feel like such a thing was worth explaining yet he still tried to do so. But he was cut off by the transmission before he could form a coherent defense.
[Transmission: It appears our system thinks otherwise, cadet.]
The officer's voice had changed. The calm professionalism was still there, but now it was underlaid with a cold, hard certainty, the kind of tone a judge might use when delivering a sentence.
[Transmission: I thought there was something fishy going on. Those wretched space urchins shouldn't have been able to track down the transported item unless the container was unsealed. It emits a unique, untraceable signature when sealed. The only way they could have found you is if that seal was broken. An unsealed container, however, is a screaming beacon.]
"But Sir! I didn't do anything!" Silas's heart beat rapidly accelerated as he was overwhelmed with a fear far more profound than the fear of the pirates.
This was a different kind of terror, the dread of being condemned by your own people. He thought of his destroyed squadron, of his own desperate flight, and the sheer injustice of the accusation slammed into him.
"Sir? Sir!" His voice grew even more frustrated and panicked, when the transmission suddenly turned silent. The line was still open, he could hear the faint hiss of static, but the officer was no longer speaking.
The silence was worse than any accusation. It was the silence of a verdict being reached.
He stared at the comm panel, his mind blank with horror. Outside, the pursuing ships were still there, their weapons charged, but for a moment, they seemed secondary. The real threat he felt right now, was coming from the very people he was trying to reach.
[Transmission: Cadet...]
Just then, a voice came through, causing Silas to feel hopeful once more. A sliver of relief pierced the fog of dread.
' Thank the heavens they didn't end the transmission. If he just gave me a moment, I can explain everything and–' his thoughts were cut short by the next transmission.
[Transmission: Whether or not you're directly responsible is unimportant. As the leader of this simple operation, I'm afraid you'll have to bear the responsibility.]
The words landed on Silas, threatening to tear away at his last bit of sanity, each sentence driving the air from his lungs more effectively than the cannon fire that had been rocking his ship.
He stared at the comm panel, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly, utterly unprepared for such cold words.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He had done everything right.
The man had followed every one of their fucking protocols and even sacrificed his entire squadron to protect the corporate asset, yet this
was the what he was getting?!
To be made a scapegoat for a crime he didn't commit and couldn't possibly have prevented?