Chapter 6: Camden's Shadow       If you were to ask the average exotrooper to name the owner of the e-frame within his squad that was always in the best state of repair, chances are he would say the one belonging to the exotech. It would be a very logical answer. The exotech is typically responsible for maintaining the e-frames of the entire squad. And the one frame they have more contact with than any other is their own. The average exotrooper would still be wrong though. While the reasoning is indeed logical, it fails to recognize the reality of the situation. If one were to spend all day working on everyone else's e-frame, by the time you finally got to your own you just wouldn't have the will to bother. Unless of course it was absolutely necessary. Recognizing this trend, Exofleet set about discovering if there was any truth to it. A random survey of over 4,000 exosquads revealed that in 95% of cases, the exotech's e-frame was the one most likely to be in the poorest shape. The study also revealed that it was the squad leader's frame which received the best maintenance.       By the time Tasha Sterling entered Exofleet Academy, the exotech program had been revised with a strong emphasis on bringing that statistic down. Exotechs were now encouraged to put their own frame at the top of the duty roster. It was argued that setting up the duty roster this way would ensure the exotech gave their own frame an equal measure of attention and effort. Meaning that since they were at the start of their day, they would be 'fresh' and less likely to cut corners. The surveys also discovered that exotechs tended to do better work on the e-frames of others because anything less than their best might result in the loss of a comrade's life. Psychtechs argued that this mode of thinking acted as a form of both conscious and subconscious motivation. Obviously, this motivation failed when applied to their own equipment. But once working on something not their own, it would literally force the exotech to finish every task to the best of their ability. This mentality, combined with the adjusted duty roster, would therefore insure every squad member's e-frame received the best of care.       Of course Tasha still chose to do things the opposite way. Over the past week she had proven she was representative of that 5% who could make the original method work. Tasha had always considered working on her e-frame as a relaxing - even fun - activity. It was a habit she had picked up at the academy. A habit that she still had not broken. And this was despite the fact a couple of her squadmates deliberately chose to make life more difficult for her. To be fair, Jaster Lazine's concerns were warranted. Because he piloted a VF-17 Stealth Nightmare, he was used to exotechs making many mistakes when it came to its upkeep. The VF-17 was the most rare ship in the fleet and many techs were unfamiliar with its design. Lazine long ago learned that by making a pain of himself he could avoid shoddy repair jobs that would spell his undoing in combat. When Alex Camden came along Lazine discovered not only was he familiar with the design, but he had actually made a number of useful additions to it. So he let his guard down and simply allowed Camden to do what he did best. With Tasha's arrival at the beginning of the week, he once more had concerns. Now at the end of that week, he was beginning to lighten up. He had stopped watching her work after day two. He stopped inspecting her work yesterday. He still asked what systems she worked on during a given day, but that wasn't unusual. Everyone did that.       Angela Merck was another story. The little blond terror had taken every opportunity humanly possible to aggravate, perturb, or otherwise annoy Tasha. Though thoughts of snapping her in half did cross Tasha's mind from time to time, she never let Merck know it. She never smiled. She never frowned, rolled her eyes, or even shot her a nasty look. Tasha always maintained a completely blank expression and kept her voice even and clear. She was always in control, all the time, which in all likelihood probably only encouraged Merck's behavior.       "Ahem."       Tasha looked away from what she was doing. Merck was beaming at her from the hanger floor. Never a good sign, because her happiness usually meant trouble for Tasha. Tasha tilted her head slightly to one side as she asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"       "As a matter of fact there is, Techie." Merck never called her by name, as a matter of fact Tasha was fairly certain she didn't even know it. Instead Merck always referred to her as Techie - a shortened form of Technical Specialist. "And that would be?" asked Tasha. "There is a problem with my fighter." Although Tasha suspected that the true problem was its pilot, she played along. "Can you describe it?"       "I'm not sure I can." answered Merck, arms folded.       "Computer or mechanical?"       "Computer." answered Merck.       "Thought recognition or conventional processor?" asked Tasha.       "Thought recognition."       Tasha sealed the maintenance hatch to her VF-14 Hunter, she was finished anyway. She slowly eased herself off the end of the wing and onto the hanger floor. "Show me."       Merck strutted her way over to her fighter, clearly taking pride in her attempt to monopolize Tasha's time. She made her way up a service gantry with Tasha in tow. The gantry was a ramp leading up to a platform exactly at the level of the VF-4's cockpit. Merck halted just in front of it, gesturing to a particular display. Tasha glanced down at the display then back to Merck. "It's a computer virus. Use the manual entry keyboard to enter the word 'rabbit' and press enter. Then run a level 4 purge of the fighter's computer core." Tasha promptly turned around and began walking down the service gantry. Merck stood opened mouthed for a moment then pursued with a few choice words. "Hey! You're supposed to fix this!" Tasha was back on the hanger floor by this time and looked up at the obviously disappointed Merck. "Not worth my time when you can do it in a few seconds." Merck frowned as she said, "I'll report this to Janson!"       Tasha stared blankly at her. "And what will you say?"       "That you neglected your duty." threatened Merck.       "You do that." answered Tasha calmly. "Then I will explain to her that the virus is a self replicating stream of data designed to nearly overload the thought recognition sub-processor. This makes it practically impossible to use the cyberjack and drastically decreases the functionality of the fighter. But if one were to input the term 'rabbit' a failsafe in the virus programing will be activated and the program will abort. At which point all one would need to do is run a level four purge to eliminate the program from memory. And then when Janson asks me how this could have happened, I will tell her someone must have planted it there and that the only two people who have clearance to get through the security lockouts are myself...and you."       Merck remained silent, giving Tasha an angry glare. When it was clear she was not going to press the point, Tasha continued on her way. She got only a few feet before she heard Merck's voice again.       "I don't like you."       Tasha halted, turned, and stared straight back at her. "I don't care." * * *       Lt. Iris Janson and Sgt. Arsis stared at the monitor in front of them. The image presented there was badly out of focus, to say the least.       "What are we looking at here, Maya?" asked Janson.       Maya sat at the main console, her elbow resting just below the keyboard. "I don't really know, Ma'am." Janson shifted her focus to the man next to Maya, Lt. Logan.       "But you obviously thought this was important."       Logan sort of shrugged as he replied, "It seemed that way to me. Maya wanted to wait until she cleared the image up a little more, but I felt we should report this ASAP."       Janson shot a questioning look at Logan. "I think you could have waited the few minutes needed to clear up the interference."       "Well that's just it." replied Logan as he gave Maya a knowing look. Maya - picking up her cue - added, "I've been working on this for a few days, Lieutenant. This recording was from our first mission." Janson rubbed her chin thoughtfully. The significance of what Maya said was not lost on her. The Jamming Bird that Maya flew was the very peak of intelligence gathering gear. The counter-measures necessary to avoid detection were not cheap or easy to come by. This meant whomever was on that recording had gone through a great deal of trouble to avoid bringing attention to themselves. It also meant that they had credits to burn. Taken together, these two factors had the familiar stench of some form of illicit behavior. "So you are thinking smuggling, perhaps?" Logan nodded. "That is my number one theory. I could give you a better estimate on what they were smuggling if I could tell what kind of ship we got here." Arsis crossed his arms, sounding a bit skeptical as he asked, "You can tell their cargo just by viewing the ship that transports it?" Logan sort of nodded with a lopsided grin on his face. "Yeah, basically. I ran into the type a lot on my deep space tour. Smugglers are just like everyone else, they use the right tool for the right job."       "Can you predict where this ship would be now?" asked Janson. Maya scooped up a datapad that was lying on the console next to her. "Yes, Ma'am. Everything you need is here. But bear in mind it assumes the craft did not alter its course after our initial contact with it." "So noted." said Janson as she took the pad from her. She scanned over the calculations for a moment before settling her eyes on Maya again. "This is some good work, Lieutenant."       "Thank you, ma'am."       "Is there anything else you can do to clear up that sensor scan?" Maya drummed her fingers on the armrest of her chair as she replied, "I think I have a trick or two I can still use."       "Well get on it." ordered Janson. "Logan, stay with her and see what you can do to help. Arsis, check on the rest of the squad. Make sure they're flight ready but don't alert them to anything yet. I'll see the Admiral about this." Janson left the room first followed by Arsis, leaving Maya and Logan by themselves. "Anything that I can do to help?" asked Logan. Maya arched an eyebrow. "Actually, I could really use a coffee." Logan let one of his warm smiles slip onto his face as he replied, "I'll see what I can do about that." * * *       Tasha gave the hanger one last look. Everything was in its place and had received the proper maintenance. There was nothing quite so satisfying as a job well done. She stared a moment longer, almost allowing a smile to creep onto her face. Then turned to leave. To her surprise, she discovered Jaster Lazine waiting for her at the exit. "Greetings." he said flatly. Given her previous exposure to Jaster, what he had just said amounted to a very warm hello. "Hello." replied Tasha. "I just wished to tell you that you have been doing a good job." "So noted. Thank you." stated Tasha. Jaster gave her a nod, then left the hanger. Though she wasn't positive, Tasha had a strong sense that he would be giving her less problems from now on. She headed down the hall to the nearest lift. There she patiently waited for it to arrive. When the doors finally opened, Tasha was surprised to she Sgt. Arsis inside. "Sergeant." she said as she boarded. He politely nodded but did not get out. "What is the squad's e-frame status?" he asked. The doors swooshed shut as Tasha replied, "Prepped and ready to launch at a moments notice. Do we have a mission?"       "That has yet to be determined." answered Arsis. "What of the Troopers?"       "Lazine and Sharp are in their quarters, I assume Merck is headed there now."       "And where are you going?" asked Arsis.       Tasha's eyes darted in his direction indicating his query caught her off guard. "I was going to the lounge. Perhaps to take in the view." Arsis nodded. "Then I will join you." The thought occurred to Tasha that she could order Arsis not to, or even simply ask that he not. That was certainly within her rights. But something about Arsis precluded that option. Perhaps it was just the way he handled himself. Whatever it was though, it demanded respect. And if Arsis wanted to join her, out of respect she had to let him.       The door to the lift opened. Tasha exited first, followed by Arsis. He stopped at the lounge's bar to order a couple of glasses of water. He was served quickly and in obtaining the water he made his way to the table Tasha had found. He placed the water down first and stood tall, scanning the room for something. Arsis glanced down at her a moment before answering, "No, Lieutenant." Tasha was about to ask why he had not sat down yet when she got a good look at the chair. While not an expert in anatomy, it was quite obvious that his oversized frame could not be squeezed into the normal sized seat. In one corner Arsis spied a chair more fitting to his girth. As he went to retrieve it Tasha noted two things. One, the way he weaved his way through the room suggested that for his size he was quite agile. And two, people tended to get out of his way as he walked past. In truth, how could they not. He was, well, huge. Tasha was in the middle of pondering this obvious thought when Arsis sat down in his newly acquired chair and started a conversation.       "Please tell me about yourself, Lieutenant."       "What would you like to know?" asked Tasha.       "Whatever you are willing to tell."       Tasha pondered where to begin for a moment, her left hand sort of fiddling with a locke of her violet hair. "Well, I am from Venus. I applied to the academy, graduated first in my class, had a deep space assignment, and was transferred here." Arsis nodded thoughtfully. Tasha picked up her glass of water, taking a sip. "And you?"       "That is a long story. Where precisely would you like me to begin?"       "When you first got involved with Exofleet." replied Tasha.       Arsis drained some of the water out of his glass before beginning. "That was some time ago. Before you were born, actually. Unless of course, you mean when did I join Exofleet?"       Tasha's eyes widened slightly, she hadn't considered the possibility Arsis had first become involved with the Fleet as an enemy. "You fought against Exofleet?" Arsis nodded. "For a time, yes. Then circumstances changed."       "The Eltorian War?"       "I was involved."       "Any other battles in this system?" asked Tasha.       "I was also involved in the Elionite Crisis."       Tasha paused. "Were you-?"       "No." answered Arsis as he cut her off.       "Just checking." stated Tasha, sounding a little apologetic. "You sound like you've seen quite a bit of action then."       "Not as much as some." replied Arsis.       "Can you even name one? On this ship , I mean." posed Tasha.       "The Admiral." Tasha sort of frowned. "You do not like him, do you?"       "Well, I guess I do. It's just he looks, I mean, well he is..." She paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Its complicated."       "Is there anything in particular that bothers you?" asked Arsis.       "Well, for one thing he presents himself like he never makes a mistake or would never have in our position. It can be annoying."       "He made just as many mistakes as you, probably more. That is why he is hard on you. He does not want you to live with as many mistakes as he does."       Tasha eyed him skeptically. "What makes you so sure of that?"       "I served with him, when he was a Lieutenant in Command of Able Squad."       Tasha placed her glass on the table. "You were in Able Squad?"       "No. I merely worked with them during the Elionite Crisis."       "Interesting." commented Tasha. Arsis approached the next topic very carefully. "I also worked with your father." Tasha froze, the muscles in her neck tensing just a bit. A second later the glass in her hand shattered, sending water all over the table. Regaining her composure, Tasha grabbed the nearest napkin and began mopping up. Arsis had remained quiet throughout the incident.       "Is there a problem Lieutenant?"       Tasha nervously blotted the table down. Satisfied the situation was under control, she responded. "No. Nothing. Must have been a faulty glass."       "It was not faulty when I held it."       "No. I suppose it wasn't. Why- Why didn't you mention that before?" she asked.       "I saw how you reacted to Trooper Sharp's comment in the hanger. It seemed prudent to wait for a more opportune moment to bring it up."       "I see. Are you here-?"       "No."       "How did you-?"       "Most terrans do not have naturally violet hair. Then there is the resemblance to your mother and of course the obvious last name." Arsis patiently, albeit prematurely, answered her questions. Her silence meant he was now able to ask one of his own. "Why do you react this way?" Tasha's face hardened. "Remember at the beginning of this conversation when I asked you what you wanted to know about me?"       "Yes."       "That's more than I'm willing to tell." She stood up, pulling the chair out from behind her. "Thank you for the drink and the company. But I need to go." She stalked away.       "You will never outrun them."       Tasha halted. Turning back to Arsis, "Outrun who?"       "Whatever ghosts are chasing you."       "Ghosts?" questioned Tasha.       "There are some things in this universe that you have no choice but to face." They stared at each other for a long moment.       "I need to go."       She marched swiftly from the lounge leaving Arsis by himself at the table. He thoughtfully sipped from his glass.       "And so the race continues..." * * *       Her talk with Arsis left Tasha feeling a bit wound up. And when she felt that way there was only one thing to do: fix something. Unfortunately, there was nothing to fix. Arsis had caught her after she finished today's duty roster. This meant she would need to be a bit more creative. After stopping off at her quarters for some schematics, she hurriedly made her way back to Able Squad's hanger. The schematics were for her VF-14 Hunter. There were a number of things with its design that she always wanted to change but never found the time. Not one to let good ideas go to waste, she entered them into the datapad which she now held. In order to keep track of the changes Tasha highlighted portions of the schematic where the standard design would be altered. She began scrolling through the design looking for changes that could be easily be made. She wasn't really in the mood to do anything involved. She just wanted something to occupy her time for a few hours. Her eyes rested on a couple of interesting possibilities. As she contemplated weather or not making such changes were worth while, she rounded a corner and ran smack into the poor fellow going the other way.       Tasha steadied herself without falling over, though she dropped her datapad. The other guy fell backwards onto the floor, letting out a deep grunt as he fell. Tasha noted he was wearing a leg brace and had been using a cane. Great, I just beat up a handicapped person. thought Tasha, feeling less than pleased with what had happened. "I'm sorry." stated Tasha as she extended her hand. The man lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling as if wondering how it got there. He blinked once and started to get up. Noticing Tasha's hand for the first time, he took hold while offering a nonchalant "Thanks." Tasha bent over to retrieve her datapad and his cane. Coming up with both, she found the man quickly snatched the datapad from her. "What's this?" he asked as he began scrolling through it. Tasha's first instinct was to grab it back, but she HAD just knocked the guy over. She could afford him some leeway. "Just some schematics, may I have them back please?" He seemed to ignore her. With one hand he operated the datapad while the other reached toward her. Presumably to find his cane. Tasha handed it over then reached for her datapad. Upon getting his cane back, the man started walking past her placing himself between Tasha and her hijacked datapad. Short of knocking him to the ground again, there was no way to get it back again unless she followed him. "I need that back." He stopped, his thumb pointing to a highlighted portion of the schematic. "Now this will never work." Intrigued, Tasha humored him.       "Really?"       "Yeah, you see how you've rewired this portion here. You're essentially routing power from redundant systems into the main hydraulics."       "It should increase the speed of movement by at least 30%." stated Tasha.       "In theory it could, but the VF-14 uses J-type power and data relays. It has to, they're the only ones compatible with the cpu's hardware."       "So?" stated Tasha, not entirely certain where this guy was going, both figuratively and literally.       "J-type relays have a relatively low upper threshold. Compared to the types used in other models, they overload more easily. Wired like this, you'd blow out every relay in your ship the moment you gave it more than 60% of full power."       Tasha snatched the datapad from him, scanning the document over again. Calling up the parts manifest she was quite surprised to see that he was right. The VF-14 did use J-type relays and they were noted for having the very shortcoming he pointed out. "Who are you?" demanded Tasha. But he wasn't listening, he was peeking at the datapad in her hand trying to deduce what other changes she made. Tasha placed her hand over the screen. The man looked up at her as if wondering why she would do such a thing.       "Who are you?"       "Huh? I'm Alex, Alex Camden." * * *       "I appreciate your attention to detail, Lieutenant, but I don't feel this is important enough to go chasing after." The Admiral sat back in his seat, indicating that the conversation was pretty much over. Janson, however, wasn't going to end things so quickly. "Sir, I really think you need to reconsider." The Admiral shook his head. "No, I don't. This ship or whatever it was may be all the potential threats you say it is. But given the time that elapsed from our initial contact until now, that ship could be anywhere." Feeling undaunted, Janson persisted, "But still..." The Admiral held his hand up, calling for her silence. "This is the flagship of the Exofleet, Lieutenant. We have duties to fulfill on behalf of the Homeworlds congress. That means we cannot go chasing after every anomaly that pops onto our scope." Janson looked as though she was still unsatisfied with his answer. The Admiral waved her off again adding, "We won't ignore this incident though. When you have completed your investigation, give your findings to Captain Remes. He will make sure they find their way to the appropriate person in the Intelligence Division. And Intelligence will get out all the relevant information to the ships in this sector." Realizing further discussion on the matter was pointless, Janson replied with a quiet "yes sir".       "You're dismissed, Lieutenant." * * *       "Alex Camden?" questioned Tasha. "Uh-huh." replied Camden, now once again in possession of the datapad. "Camden, the guy from Able Squad?" Camden stared blankly at her a moment. "Yeah. Why? Who are you?"       "Tasha. Tasha Sterling."       Tasha tossed in her last name without thinking. She had been avoiding its use since she arrived on the Resolute. Which was ironic because she usually demanded that people call her by it and never by her first name. It was something she picked up from Eltorian culture. That was the side of her heritage she readily embraced growing up. In her own mind Tasha always felt she had more in common with Eltorians than terrans. So she began thinking of herself as an Eltorian. Logically it made some form of sense. She had their strength and to some extent their pallor. So why not model herself after them? But that mode of thinking changed when she arrived on the Resolute. Mostly because she wanted people to think she was there for being herself and not because of her last name. But when those times arose that she had to use it, the majority of people would immediately connect the name and the purple hair. Camden was not one of those people.       "Sterling?" asked Camden.       "Sterling." replied Tasha.       "Oh."       "I was assigned to the squad after you got hurt." explained Tasha. "Oh." answered Camden. He pointed at the datapad in his hand. "Can we finish going over these other changes now?" Tasha was taken aback by his nonchalant response. People like Merck had been so territorial about her presence in the squad. But here was the man she replaced and he seemed like he could care less. Weather it was from lack of ego or failure to properly connect all the information he had been given, Camden would rather talk shop than anything else. "Sure. But lets find somewhere we can sit down. You probably shouldn't be stressing that leg too much." Camden looked down, remembering something vaguely similar that the med-techs had told him. "Oh. Yeah. Okay." Tasha took the datapad from him and started slowly walking. "We'll go to the officer's lounge." Camden nodded as he started after her. "So you have any other schematics with you?" On to Chapter 7 ->