Ghosts of the Past

[qwertypp7]

There was a soft whooshing noise as Captain Christopher Leigh entered the brightly lit lab through an automated door. The lab was busy with white-coated technicians and scientists pouring over stacks of datapads and examining machinery hooked up to the advanced cryopods that were the cause of the Captain's assignment to the facility deep benieth the surface of Toledo.

Dressed in his black dress uniform the captain stood out like a sore thumb in the sterile white environment of the lab and it wasn't long before one of the technicians approached him.

"Can I help you Captain," he asked, noting the rank markings emblazoned on Leigh's shoulder bars.

"I'm here to see Dr. Sinclair," he replied, "she should be expecting me. I'm Captain Leigh with the Primary Fleet."

"Ah, yeah she mentioned you'd be dropping by," the technician said, pointing across the lab to another automated door, "she's just through the door over there in her office."

The Captain nodded his thanks to the technician and began picking his way across the lab towards Dr. Sinclair's office, taking note of the odd contruction of the cryo-pods as he went. Though most were now empty a couple still held their human occupants, visible as faint blurs through the frosted glass of the pods.
Reaching the door, he pressed a button on the wall nearby to open it and stepped into the office where Dr. Sinclair was sitting and examining data on a computer screen.

"Welcome captain," she said, looking up from the screen and getting up to shake Leigh's hand, "I trust you saw the pods on your way in?"

"That I did," he said, taking her hand and skaking it firmly, "very interesting stuff."

"You don't know the half of it captain," she replied, "we've never seen anything like them before. I won't bore you with scientific details but they've been baffling us for months."

"So I've been told," he said.

"We couldn't even open the pods until very recently," Sinclair continued, "it wasn't until the Order Intelligence Division brought back samples of Gallic cryo tech for us to study that we figured out how to remove the occupants from stasis safely without either killing them or causing permanent, ireparable brain damage."

The captain frowned.

"Why would removing them from stasis cause brain damage?" he asked, "humanity has had working stasis tech since before the exodus from Sol after all."

"That's what is so worrying," replied Sinclair, "the occupants were linked into the pods on a mental level somehow. We didn't figure it out until we had the breakthrough with the Gallic technology and opened the pods but there is no doubt about it now; the technology used to link the occupants to the pods is Nomad in origin."

The captain's frown deepened when he heard this, the lines on his forehead furrowing as he scratched his chin.

"What purpose did that serve?" he asked.

"That's a mystery," the doctor said, "as far as we can tell the occupants are healthy and normal. No signs of Nomad infestation, brainwashing or anything of the sort. They're just normal people."

The captain nodded and changed the subject. The occupants of the pods would have to wait for later.

"I was told the transport carrying the pods had links with Liberty," he said, "any way you can elaborate on that?"

Dr. Sinclair nodded and handed him a datapad from the desk.

"Those are the after-action reports from the battle to capture the transport," she said.

Leigh skimmed over the details of the battle brieflly, taking note of key points. The transport vessel's escort had consisted of two wings of BDR-804 Guardians but it was stressed in the report that the vessels were transmitting no IFFs and were completely devoid of any identifying markings as well as being armed with what appeared to be prototype human-Nomad hybrid weaponry.

"Now that is definately worrying," said the captain as he flipped through the reports looking for any clue to the identity of the escorts, "I've never heard of any navy or LSF wing fitting the description in here and it sure as hell wasn't those donut munchers at the LPI."

"My sentiments exactly," added Sinclair.

The captain nodded and slipped the datapad into his back pocket for future study.

"That mystery will have to wait for later," he said, "in the meantime, I'd like to speak to some of the occupants you've revived so far, see if they know anything."

Dr. Sinclair motioned for the captain to follow her as she left the office.

"I'll show you the one we have in the interview room right now," she said, leading the captain across the lab and through another door to a darkened room with one wall given over to a one way glass window. Behind the glass was another brightly lit room with a man sitting at a table opposite two Order doctors who were administering relflex tests. The sound from the room was being recorded and played back through speakers in the observation room.

"This is one of the first we woke up," the doctor continued, "mid-fourties, in reasonably good shape physically. He's very confused about how he got here but apart from that he's mentally fit as well."

"So there is no sign whatsoever of Nomad infestation or influence?" Leigh asked.

"None," replied Sinclair.

"Can I speak with him?" Leigh asked as the doctors finished their tests and stood up to leave.

"Go ahead," the doctor said as she motioned to the doorway leading to the interview room.

The captain stepped into the passageway, nodding to the doctors as they passed him in the oposite direction. As he stepped into the room, the man at the table looked up, surprised.

"You're not a doctor," he remarked, folding his arms and sitting back in his chair.

You'd be right about that," Leigh answered, taking one of the chairs opposite, "I'm here to talk about who you are and how you think you got here."

"You wouldn't be the first," the man said, looking closely the captain's uniform.

"Let's start with your name," said Leigh, leaning on the table with his elbows, "who are you?"

The man sighed with resignation.

"As I've told all the doctors and shrinks a thousand times already, my name is James Henderson," the man said, "can I go home yet?"

"No," said Leigh bluntly, "where is home anyway?"

"A small town called Perserverance on Los Angeles," James said as he sighed once again, "who're you anyway?"

"You can call me Captain Leigh," he said, "now-"

He was cut off by James.

"You're not Liberty Navy though are you?" he said, "I'd recognise the uniform if you were."

"Correct," replied Leigh, "I'd guess from that then that you were a navy man?"

"Retired now yes," said James.

A small smirk crossed Leigh's lips.

"Me too oddly enough," he said, "now, what is the last thing you remember before you were taken out of stasis in this facility?"

"I've said all this already," said James, visibly frustrated, "I was in the yard with my girls playing ball and then next thing I know I'm naked and freezing fracking cold on the floor of that lab out there!"

"What are your daughter's names?" Leigh asked, keeping his face still.

"Miri and Jenny Henderson," James replied, his face sinking as a tear rolled down his cheek, "and my wife is Helen."

Before the captain could continue with his questions, the man before him broke down into tears and began crying into his hands. Leigh stood and gave James a reassuring clasp on the shoulder.

"I'll look into what happened to your children James," he said as he turned to leave the room. Before he reached the door however, there was a screech as the metal legs of one of the chairs were scraped along the floor. A split second later, the chair hit the wall next to the door, narrowly missing him. Leigh drew his sidearm and turned to face the man, keeping the weapon down but ready.

"What was that for!?" he demanded, keeping a close eye on James, who was now standing and visibly angry.

"I saw that fracking eye insignia on your uniform captain!" James shouted, "don't think I don't recognise that from my navy days! You're with the Order you fracking terrorist! I bet you fracking killed my family and kidnapped me didn't you, you bastard!"

Shaking his head, Leigh left the room to the continued shouts of the man in the cell. As he passed back through the passageway the two doctors ran back through to try and calm him down. The captain holstered his sidearm and turned to Sinclair, who was watching, shocked, through the one way glass as the doctors attempted to reason with James.

"Letting you in there was a mistake Captain, I'm sorry," said Dr. Sinclair.

"It may well have been yes," Leigh replied, "but we couldn't have know he'd react like that."

"True," said Sinclair.

"Well at least some good came of it," said Leigh, "I have leads now."

He paused as he took out a communicator from one of his pockets.

"I want a list of the relatives of all the pod occupants," he said, tapping in messages, "I'm going to get Order Intelligence to look into every one of them. Since we have no idea who built the pods and who put these people in them we can at least find out who the hell these people are and what happened to them."

---

Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.

True story...