(TPOR) Chapter 150: Information (Patreon)

“We have to move. Staying here is suicide, begging for my men to die.”

Daniel was growing furious. How he kept his fury from his voice was testament to his control, and logic. Exchanging words with his commanding Officer was one thing, but raising his voice was another. If there was ever a time he needed control most, it was not on the battle field or the sparring field danced upon the training grounds, it was here tossing words with one above him. A person too steeped in the diluted appeal of power to see reason when a soldier on the ground showed it—practically shoved it in their mouth.

“The scanners are off,” Daniel continued. “The topography all wrong. We have been warned of possible dangers and there are too many signs showing it. My men and I have to move if we want to survive it.”

He was in the communication room, barely ten minutes after his brief, if not confusing, conversation with Zed. The mage was childish but not stupid. Now here he was, surrounded by bright white light, standing before the single table in the entire room. His hands were pressed against it and he was leaned forward, unable to sit. This conversation was important, too important.

The hologram levitating above the table was of Doctor Langly, and she couldn’t be as far away from bothered if she was on a vacation in heaven.

“You have your orders, captain,” she said. There was a tick to her lips that showed him that his unscheduled call was nothing more than an annoyance to her. “And in case you have forgotten, Daniel Okaza, you are an interim captain. The Olympians on that ship are not your men. Until a time as is chosen to make your new post permanent, they are merely men of the VHF. You can always be replaced.”

Daniel fought his hardest not to kick the chair behind him aside. With the anger running through his veins he was more than certain he would shatter it in the single action.

“Doctor Langly,” he pressed. “My m—these men might not survive an ambush such as this. We need a plan of action.”

“You are in command of men outfitted with one of the greatest military tech this world has ever seen. I refuse to believe that there exists an enemy capable of defeating all of you even in an ambush. Your orders remain.”

“Whatever dangers we are about to face, it knows what we are capable of and yet it has still chosen to come after us. We will fall if we work with the logic of superiority. I am of the opinion that we prevent casualties.”

Langly rubbed her forehead with thumb and forefinger. “And I am of the opinion that the unfortunate demise of your captain has led to you to seeing ghosts. I will not repeat myself again, interim captain Daniel. You and those men are to stay put. Your ship is not to move until otherwise stated.”

The hologram shut off liked a switched off television and she was gone. Daniel was left standing with his worries and his anger. He had a dilemma in mind. Faced with the possibility of planning a fight and insubordination, he made his choice.

His hand moved to a button on the table and he tapped it. An array of faces came up. Each Olympian on the ship was displayed in front of him. Each face carried their names above them. Daniel’s eyes were caught on one highlighted in red. It was still hard to believe Ven was gone. Ven had been a commander that would’ve known what to do in this situation.

Daniel shook his head, banished his thoughts. Ven was here no longer. Instead, he was. Interim or not, it was his duty to secure the survival of his men. His hand moved swiftly and he tapped on the face he needed.

The room was filled with the subtle vibration of sound as he called on the person he needed. It took barely two rings before the person picked.

“Yes, Captain.”

Their pilot, Ravab, sounded as alert as anyone could be. Daniel was happy for that.

“How far are you from the cockpit?” he asked.

“The cockpit and I are one captain,” Ravab answered easily. “What can I do you for?”

“Quite a lot, actually. I’m about to call all men aboard. I need you to get us out of here right now.”

“Right now, Captain?”

Daniel nodded. “Yes, soldier. Right now.”

There was a moment of long silence. Daniel knew Ravab was considering his words. He didn’t blame the man. The last time the pilot had asked what they were doing next, Daniel had said that they were waiting on HQ, that an update was to be expected in the next few hours. And here he was, giving new instructions barely an hour in.

“Ravab?” Daniel pressed. “Is there an issue?”

“Negative, captain. How soon do you want us airborne?”

“Yesterday.”

“Got it.”

The man was barely done with his response when a new notification popped up on the table’s screen. Daniel’s eyes went to it. He smiled. The thrusters had just been engaged.

“Thanks, soldier.”

“Anytime, Captain.”

Daniel could picture the pilot firing off a quick salute. Now he had to reach out to the others. He dismissed his call with Ravab and tapped away at some of the faces on the screen in front of him. These were the men currently stationed outside the ship, positioned to keep watch.

He pulled them all into a group call and dialed them in. it took a few seconds, perhaps half a minute before everyone was dialed in.

“Yes, captain,” a collection of voices filled the room.

“Alright guys,” Daniel said in his best commanding voice. “Pack your shit up and get on the ship, we’re moving out.”

“Got it, captain!” They chorused. Unsurprisingly, they seemed happy to be going home.

Daniel let out a relived sigh as he ended the call and sat on the chair. Now all he had to do was prepare for whatever punishment would be levied against him back at Headquarters.

Next up, he thought. California.

……………………………………..

Festus felt a mild disturbance in the ship’s ambient mana. It was enough to make him turn his attention from his meal of rice, tomato stew, and a type of fish he didn’t know. He looked about, his head moving slowly. He watched every mote of ambient mana floating about in the room. Green, orange, pink, blue, white. Each color was a representation of varying types of mana. None of them was new to him.

He looked down at the ground beneath his feet. Something was off somewhere. Three tables in front of him two Olympians sat in a discussion. They ate as they talked. Festus felt the need to ask if they were aware of what had happened but stopped himself a moment before he could. He wasn’t a fan of how people reacted to him when they were aware of his rank. And there was no one on the ship that didn’t know he was a Knight.

Instead, he settled for calculated assumptions. Assumptions that would be thoroughly wrong if his calculations came from the minute information left to him in the cafeteria. So he stood up, abandoning the little amount of food still left on his plate, and walked out of the cafeteria. If he wanted information, he needed to get them elsewhere.