Matt Scaven didn’t like to sleep anymore. It was a constant battle. Falling asleep would make him a victim of dreaming and his dreams were violent, frightening, and full of monster. Not monsters- monster. The same one every time.
Its feet were huge and blocky- no toes or claws, just big, clunky masses that left dark, deep, wet footprints behind wherever it walked. Its general demeanor somehow gave the impression of having been badly burned. In some dreams the legs were covered with tattered cloth, but usually they were simply bare, dark and scaly.
The really unsettling thing about the monster was that it always appeared out of nowhere in the midst of what began as a perfectly normal dream. Scaven could be dreaming about a family dinner, attending a sporting event with his brother, a girl he dated in the Academy or a mission- especially about a mission- and then the monster would violate his somnolence, leaving behind footprints, devastation and scratch marks from his fingernails along the ground or floor.
Matt was now sleepless for three days. The medical officer had ordered him off the bridge and sent him to his quarters with a steroid. The commander read reports for a while and then a little from an old novel. He waited until the last moments of comprehension before activating the this new drug, looking forward to a long, deep sleep in the pit of exhaustion- free of any nocturnal visitations from either memory or monster.
He felt his body relax as the sonic waves swept over him, accompanied by a very strong impression that he was sinking deep into the blankets and padding of his bunk. Eventually losing consciousness, his breathing became deep and regular.
#
A small Shadostrian battle group has just exited the orbit of Filostra. Three ships emerge from the system. Two large battle cruisers were coasting along a much larger carrier. It was unique being as black as the space around it. The Filostra system had just agreed with terms of surrender with battle group leaving the system. It was called the Thundering Host for a reason: Intimidation. This battle group was small but got the job done with little resistance.
The commander blinks and takes stock of his surroundings, stretching his arms. He awakens in his quarters. The Resounding Thunder has an impressive spacious room for the commanding officer. Although, Scaven’s room wasn’t filled with all personal belongings. He equipped the room with a wide array of books and azunes. The books were acquired on his campaigns. Some were gifts from where he had been. Others, he took as trophies of war. The azunes he received from home. Quarterly or other small sub-scripted paper books he would collect. He had a large marble table in the room. A holo-projector sat in the middle.
Matt Scaven has slept long enough. He grabbed his decorated navy coat off the chair beside his bed. He feels as though he has just awakened from a long, but restless sleep.
Scaven made his way to his colleagues who have been running operations since his departure, several hours ago.
“Look who it is,” Mek Cieno said with a smirk as Scaven walked onto the bridge.
The officers standing around in close proximity stopped everything they were doing to acknowledge their commander returning to duty. Commander Scaven gave a nod to the room and they returned to their duties.
Jonathan Rhyssa also moved from his station to meet commander. Scaven’s colleagues were catching him up to speed.
A young officer walked into the command post. He made his way to the front of the room, near the large window pane. The young officer didn’t want to be rude, but had to be diligent in his findings. “Sir?” he interrupted politely. The ensign- whose name Matt Scaven could not recall- stood at attention behind him, waiting to punch an authorization code into his commpad. His face showed concern. Although Scaven was generally regarded as the most cunning commander in the Fleet, he demonstrated none of that cunning at the moment.
In fact, the ensign reflected, he was manifesting a significant indication of drunkenness.
“I’m sorry, Ensign… I just got here. Refresh my memory. What order?” He looked back at his two colleagues looking to see if they knew what the young officer was talking about. Rhyssa responded, “Everything is fine, ensign. Thank you.” Jonathan was shorter than his colleagues, just a little bit taller than the young officer. He had a sleek black crew cut and donned a pair of sleek glasses, since his eye sight wasn’t up to par with the Navy.
Ensign Eric Stone stifled a sigh and answered, “The council has issued a mandatory requirement to every battle group for all personnel to receive their monthly 109B antiviral. They are awaiting your compliance report. I am ready to send it, upon your command.
There’s something not… I don’t know. This doesn’t sound right.
“TX109B?” he asked, finally getting his bearings. “You mean that?“
Wow. He is out of it. Battle fatigue, I’ll bet, Stone reflected.
“Yes, Sir. The anti-viral. Medav is ready to administer it as soon as you give the go-ahead. Once you do that, we can file our report.“
Scaven looked around the bridge. His apparent bewilderment was making the ensign nervous. Scaven, walked forward toward the bridge window pane that stretch the length of the room. He was content as he could be standing at the window. Overlooking his beloved ship. “All right…” he muttered, still fighting his disorientation.
The ensign stepped closer to the commander until he was standing directly under him, shielding him from the rest of the crew. He didn’t like what he was seeing and felt an automatic urge to protect his commander’s image. Matt Scaven was known for running a tight ship. In some quarters, his nickname was “Standard Issue” Scaven, a cookie-cutter version of the ideal commander. He was average height and average build. He was Shadostrian, having the bronzed skin tone. His eyes were of a dark yellow hue with a hint of blue. The yellowish color was similar to that of the color of his crew cut. His heart, as a great soldier of Shadostrian history had said, was with “the System and the System and the System.“
Although he was strictly disciplined, he was not locked into the traditional. His adherence to discipline served as the foundation for some of the most innovative leadership and revolutionary combat tactics of any military thinker since Viktor Shurilo. Many were in awe of him. Some feared him. To say the least, Matthias Scaven was a controversial figure.
Stone saw that Scaven wasn’t responding. He turned his head and glanced over at the First Officer, Mek Cieno. Scaven’s right hand man returned to his work; busy frowning at an engine readout on a bulkhead status screen. The worst gambler in the fleet, Cieno’s dissatisfaction with the ship’s engine performance was written all over his face. He shook his head, sighed, and turned to say something to Scaven.
Then he noticed the ensign’s troubled expression. His eyebrows went up in a question, which Stone answered by shifting his eyes to the commander and back. Cieno left his problems at the station and returned to the troubled commander.
“Yes, Commander?“
Mekito and his younger brother Donald were Scaven’s closest associates. The three had progressed through the ranks together and had fought every battle together, well before the Toldegan conflict ensued. Both brothers had turned down promotions in order to remain under Scaven’s command. Mek supervised all the ships in the battle group, including the Reckoning and Deliverance, both old commands of Scaven’s. Donald commanded the Reckoning, Mek commanded the Deliverance.
Mek Cieno was big, burly and absorbed. Donald was shorter, but just as pensive. He was clean-shaven and short-tempered. They both had thick, dark hair, always polished in some fashion. They were not considered standard issue officers, but they were just like Scaven without the discipline. They could have been called Scaven’s bodyguards, because they were built that way.
Mek stood over his friend and whispered, “Matt? Are you okay?“
Scaven looked at him blearily. “I can’t seem to focus.“
The First Officer didn’t like what he was seeing. He began to give orders softly.
“Stone, get Medav up here. Tell him we’ve got a HC. He’ll know what to do.“
The ensign sent an administrative message (AM) to the Chief Medical Officer, requesting his presence on the bridge to deal with a “HC” per Lieutenant Commander Cieno.
The Medav officer arrived within five minutes and wordlessly stepped behind Scaven’s command chair. Making sure everyone but Cieno and Stone were paying attention to their stations, he pressed a hypodermic infuser against the back of the commander’s neck and activated it with his thumb.
Scaven’s eyes watered and he began coughing loudly. Wiping his eyes, he sat up straight, muttered, “Thank you,” and straightened his uniform. The Medav officer rolled his eyes knowing he is practically there to take care of the commander. It is very rare anyone sees the Medav officer, ever.
“Um… Stone… we’ll delay that transmission for a while. I’m not entirely clear on the value of the antiviral. I need to talk with Doc about it.” He glanced up at Cieno and wiped more tears from his eyes. “Agreed?“
Cieno nodded and Stone murmured, “Very good, sir.” He punched in a delay command on the report, which would remind him at beginning of shift the next morning. Scaven stood and walked up to stand next to the Communications Station. Stone took the opportunity to talk to Cieno.
“What’s a ‘HC,’ LT?” he whispered.
“It means ‘Hung-over Commander.’ It’s not uncommon on back-system runs like this for a commander to spend some down time in the bottle. Was he drunk?“
“No, sir,” Stone answered. He was giving me instructions about the TX109 dissemination. He was clear as a bell, and then he just kind of drifted off.“
“Okay,” Mek replied, studying his friend’s back. “Let me know if this kind of thing- or anything else weird- happens again. Got it?“
“Yes, sir.” Stone returned to his station and began his personnel report review for the day.
Mek leaned against a bulkhead, crossed his arms and lowered his eyes to the floor, thinking unpleasant thoughts.
Scaven watched the various screens at the Communications Station. The shot had cleared his head somewhat. The longer he looked at the readouts, the more he pieced together. He walked aimlessly around the c
The Shadostrian Navy lists Jonathan Rhyssa as the Resounding Thunder’s commander, but that was just for filing reports. Jonathan never commanded a day during the wars. He was a communications prodigy. He could scramble transmissions and find his way into any matrix that kept electronic logs. He had accepted promotion to captain in order to serve under Scaven. Matt liked the Thunder and wanted to stay aboard, which Rhyssa agreed to happily because Scaven more or less let’s him do what he wanted as long as he didn’t try to command anything.
“Sir, we just received a distress signal from Admiral Wakeside,” Rhyssa informed him.
“Origin?” Scaven replied.
“It’s coming from the Toldegan system.” Scaven parted from the window pane, to where Rhyssa’s operations desk was. As the commander got closer, he heard Rhyssa scoff, “We can’t be at war with Toldega again.“
“What?” Scaven asked, picking up on his remark. “How long have you been like this?“
“Like what?” Rhyssa replied. “Oh, my cold. A couple of days now. Most of the men have some symptoms. Makes me a little absent-minded, I guess.“
The communication specialist didn’t pick up on what his commander was asking him. He didn’t even try to repeat it either. He knew that they were off their meds. He thought of how Mek addressed him as he came on the bridge. Scaven just replied, “Maybe I’ve got it, too. I’m not really feeling one hundred percent today.“
After reading the distress text together, he tapped Rhyssa on the shoulder. “We need to talk. Get Donny over here in 30 minutes. You and Mek bring him to the conference room, okay?“
“Yes, sir,” Rhyssa affirmed. “Shall I forward the distress call to their commpads?“
“Oh, yeah. Mine, too.” See you in thirty.“
The commander left the bridge swiftly, but stopped when he reached the passageway.
Where was I going? I’m not even 35. I shouldn’t be having memory lapses yet.
He shrugged and turned to go to his quarters, but changed his mind and went to the galley. He drank three power formulas, a cup of kava and ate two slices of pie. Feeling suitably energized and thinking clearly again, he set off for the large conference room- but it still bugged him that he couldn’t remember where he was going when he left the bridge. It had seemed pretty important at the time.
When he entered the conference room, Rhyssa and the Cienos were waiting, lounging in the conference chairs; chugging kava and munching cakes.
“Our old friend Nemke Wakeside is in some trouble,” Matt announced as he dropped into a chair. “Anybody know what he’s doing on Toldega?“
“I don’t have a clue,” Don replied. “I didn’t know he ever left Shadostro these days.“
Mek shook his head. “Makes no sense to me either. Last I heard he was in some kind of feud with Arano.“
“Well, Arano’s the kind of guy who could turn me against Shadostro,” Donny mused. “You think he’s gone rogue?“
“Nah. He’s too… I don’t know what. But I know he’s no kind of traitor.” Scaven frowned at the commpad, trying to read between the lines- which is pretty difficult when a message is only a few words long.
“Yeah, me neither,” he agreed.
“If you would have said Filostra…. that would be more plausible than Toldega,” Mek replied. “What would make him resort to an OTA? And how could he have so much trouble with an almost-defenseless world?“
Donnie added, “The Toldegans were almost annihilated during the wars. Talos III and VI were not able to sustain life afterward. Toldega didn’t have a sizable force to deal with, not since Scaven lead the battle on that system. Not that he was aware of.“
It donned on Scaven at that point to bring up their anomaly that they didn’t pick up on. “I know I have been out for some time now. Sort of drugged and commanding with no thought.
“Well, since you put it that way,” Mek replied sarcastically.
“In all seriousness, you haven’t picked up on what has been transpiring,” Scaven continued. He turned toward Rhyssa, “Jon, I heard you remark about Toldega. As in we are now forming our own conclusions and retaining our memories. In the last few weeks, I have seen more and more of this. Then it hit me, when Eric Stone came up to me and asked me about the stupid drug again.“
The Cienos were seated upright and listening intently. Rhyssa was seated with his hands clenched together on the table.
“So what are you saying, Matt,” Donnie replied.
“He’s saying we are back to how we used to be, and we didn’t even notice it,” Mek replied with a grin. This was the best new in a long time for these men. Mek stood up.
“But,” Scaven said not wanting to kill the buzz they just received, “we now have a dilemma with this OTA from Wakeside.“
Rhyssa added, “If we go to his aide, we will be breaking chain of command. It would only be a matter of time before they knew what we were doing.“
“They would definitely know we were no longer responding to the TX,” Scaven concurred.
Mek was still standing. He wasn’t as thrilled as before, but he didn’t let that get to him. He recomposed himself and sat down again.
Scaven, went over to the older Cieno brother and put his hand on his shoulder. “We’re jeopardizing our future should we leave here for another system.“
“We couldn’t hide these symptoms long,” Donny stated. “Think of all the other men who will not be seen as being on their meds. And we only know this now, because you showed it to us.“
“How long will it take them to see us and draw conclusions we are no longer under the effects of TX?” Rhyssa asked.
“Not long,” Mek replied. “There’s no guarantee what they will do to us.“
The commander looks at the men around the table, once filled with hope and joy, just to see them in a completely different state.
“The choice is ours. I know it’s not much of a choice, but we can start to plan accordingly. But as we are waiting or trying to figure out our best course, our mentor could be in the dire need,” Scaven pleaded.
“Why not,” Mek answered. “We have in worse situations before. Even if it is Shadostro we end up going against.“
Donnie agreed and looked at his brother. Rhyssa sat back, not liking the odds.
“I’m sure I will be Ok with anything you guys say. You are looking out for our best interests. I’m just leery on how far we plan on taking this.“
“All the way to the top,” Scaven affirmed.
Turning to Rhyssa, he asked, “What would our ETA for Toldega be?“
Rhyssa looked at the ceiling for a second and answered, “Under ten hours from time of departure. Do we have authorization?“
“We will once you write the orders, Director,” Scaven answered, looking at him evenly.
“So we are going to tell our superiors of our intentions?” Mek said objecting to that order.
“It will only be mere hours before they know we are there,” Scaven said dismissing the argument. “Besides, I want to see what they do. They will be scared of this.“
This was a truth that they all could agree on. Nothing was more dangerous than Matthew Scaven going rogue. Once the agreement was made, Rhyssa picked up his compad, “And who is issuing these orders, sir?“
“How about Shen Rhazine? I think he needs to show a little more command presence if he wants to be promoted.“
“It’ll take about 30 minutes for the orders to transmit. Good enough?“
The commander winked at his team. “Better than good, Jon. Prepare to embark, gentlemen.“
They rose from the table and exited the conference room.
~A somnatic is a device developed to induce sleep in light insomnia patients. It has proven to be less than effective with severe insomnia. Some studies have indicated that use of the device not only intensifies the insomnia, but also increases occurrences of manic depression and suicide.
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