The Epherium Chronicles: Echoes by T.D. Wilson Page B

edged its way out of the bay and into open space.
    Hood rewound the video and zoomed in closer on the pilot. Elation and relief washed over him when he saw the nameplate on his left breast.
    “That’s Captain Styles!” Sanchez announced. “He did make it out. But where did he go?”
    Aldridge shrugged. “The entire investigation team has scoured every bit of data we could gather about the surrounding area and the debris field. There’s no trace of the second fighter.”
    “They took him.” Anger was already beginning to swell in Hood’s voice.
    Aldridge glanced up at Hood, but his eyes still focused on the nameplate on the screen. “Sir, I think we know who was responsible for the attack, but why would they try to mask it? Surely they had to know we’d be able to see through it.”
    Images of the asteroid field incident from a few weeks before flooded Hood’s mind. “Of course they did.” He reached past Aldridge and closed down the images of the
Cestus
on her terminal. “They knew we’d be here. The attack was a test. It was meant to send us a warning.”
    “Sir?” Sanchez and Aldridge questioned in unison.
    Hood panned around the Command Deck, pausing at the other stations to observe his diligent crew perform their functions. At last, his vision settled back on Sanchez and Aldridge. “They wanted to let us know they can hurt us, that we won’t see the next one coming and there’s little we can do to stop them.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale, taking a little of the stress of the realization along with it. “Lieutenant, analyze every piece of data regarding the countermeasures used against the
Cestus
. If our systems can penetrate it, let’s use it to our full advantage. If not, find a weakness.”
    “On it. I’ll let you know what I find.”
    Hood and Sanchez left Aldridge to her work and moved to the Command Station. “They’re confident now, Raf, and they’re getting bolder.”
    Sanchez agreed. “Sir, what about Captain Styles? There’s no guarantee whoever attacked his ship abducted him. If his fighter’s still out there, we need to resume the search.”
    Hood could sense Sanchez’s apprehension. He had no desire to believe it either. “Commander, we’ve done all we can. We’re going to escort the
Gresham
back to Cygni with the
Cestus.
I’ve already ordered the
Isis
and
Repulse
to jump back here and search the debris field for any more intel.” His voice was stern now. “I’ll have them do a staggered sensor sweep to the best possible range of his fighter. Raf, if there was a remote chance, I’d be out there with you looking for him, but our sensors would’ve detected its trail. There isn’t any trace.”
    Sanchez gritted his teeth at first, but relaxed.
    “Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” Hood assured him.
When we do, the people involved in this had better pray hell isn’t real.
He clenched his jaw as images of his helpless friend came to mind once again.
Because I’m going to send them there
.
    * * *
    Nestled into the back corner of his new quarters aboard the
Armstrong
, Kree sat in silence. The large metal room had once been a storage locker close to the medical bay, but Captain Hood’s aide Mr. Martin had it cleared and converted to accommodations of his suiting. The choices on board were limited, and this was one of the few rooms with a door wide enough for him to pass unhindered.
    The lights were dim, and Kree liked it that way. He’d grown accustomed to the darkness of the cave in the canyon he’d called home while on Cygni 4. Undisturbed by the light, he could focus on other things. The darkness brought silence and serenity, and he could listen. But it wasn’t sounds Kree was trying to detect. His mind stretched out from the boundaries of his room into other areas of the ship. Upon finding new crew members in each area, he listened and held out hope he could hear surface thoughts or feel their emotions. Even with all the activity on