The Evergreen Files: Banshee; Book One
Chapter Six

Solomon stood at his armouring desk, staring at the finely polished surface of his chest plate that held very few scratches. His company undressing behind him, cleaning their armour and discussing the various things they had witnessed upon The Pride of Lions. Solomon stood like a statue. The rest of the fleet had arrived now to offer help to ships and their crews. The Pride of Lions had been totalled, the wreckage could not be repaired, the crew had been split through the other ships and assigned positions, two more shifts had been created to allow the people to share work loads. Solomons bridge shift was now reduced to four hours, where he would be more than relieved for the free time where he could further define his skills. Captain Simms had been a good friend of Kyril and Solomon alike, now he was dead, Lucius had gone into further detail of what happened once they had completed their rescue.

The Lieutenant Commander of The Pride Of Lions had said to Captain Deeph he was sucked through the unsealed bridge door with half of the bridge crew. The rest of them made it to the battle bridge to try command what was left, but the damage they took had become too much to maintain, it cut most of the power off to that area of the ship, they became stuck inside the battle bridge, like an iron coffin. The Lieutenant Commander of the Pride Of Lions was a middle aged woman by the name of Amy Sykes, who’s stern and strict methods reflected upon her hard face. She truly was a woman to fear, but Solomon had seniority, with The Evergreen as his assigned ship, she only out ranked him, when he was off shift and she was on shift, this pleased Solomon to a great extent.

Solomon finally removed his midnight blue and gold striped helmet with a hiss as the air was released through the opening crack at the neck. The voices soon quietened in the room, with a miserable feeling in the pit of his stomach he turned only to see why the company had suddenly fallen quiet. Lyra was stood there, still in her blue field uniform, wearing a thick white coat, littered with many pockets of various sizes. Syringes still clung to the thin long pockets at the top of her arms, below her shoulders. The white coat was worn over her armour. Her metal breastplate had been lazily washed, a smear of blood was still present at her sternum, her blue sealed pants still dirty, but that is not the reason for the silence. She stood there, with messy auburn hair, a simple smile, bright olive eyes, holding a large tray in front of her. A tray of freshly baked chocolate gooey cookies.

It had been roughly two hours since Solomon set foot back on The Evergreen, the loss of the Pride of Lions was still fresh in all the minds of the crews. Six ships remained, Solomon thought deeply of how the ship had been intercepted. Surely a traitor aboard, Solomon could think of no plausible way to ambush a ship mid warp travel. The ship had not been taken by the enemy, hopefully the traitor had been killed? But perhaps, the traitor was still at large. Now aboard one of the other five ships that took aboard the refugees of The Pride Of Lions. Solomons thought was broken by a potent smell of chocolate as Lyra pressed the tray closer to his face, her warm rosy smile widening as he lifted a dirty, rough hand to the tray and relieved her of several cookies. Their surfaces still hot, their bodies slightly curving with the goo inside, not quite yet set. Solomon knew she was trying to make the crew feel better and, as the old saying goes, medical staff know their stuff; do as the doctor orders.

Kyril stormed into the command bridge, his forehead pulsing with veins as he shouted a single name. “Hyphon! Get me Hyphon, now!” his face seething with over whelming anger. Nobody dared speak. After a painstaking minute of waiting as the Comms officer hailed The Judgement, Captain Errol Hyphon proudly stood as a pale ghost on the command bridge of The Evergreen. “Hyphon!” bellowed Sinderman.

“Yes, Captain Sinderman?” said Hyphon taken back by the rage.

“we have a confirmed report that you sent a message from your personal terminal to an unknown vessel one hour before we went into the warp, marking the exact time and coordinates that The Pride of Lions would be at!”

The silence was immense.

The tension was so thick, even Hyphon’s pale ghost started to project into a more solid state with the tension becoming unbearable.

Hyphon’s face was clearly panicked, after a few moments of opening his mouth and shutting it again without speaking, Hyphon finally managed to find his voice.

“I’m coming over, Kyril. Prepare an armed escort team, if you do not trust me. But I am coming over.” and with that said, Errol Hyphon was gone.

The Evergreen crew sat blinking at Captain Sinderman. Only Eve dared speak her mind.

“Captain, there is no prior record of Captain Errol Hyphon having any reason to do what he is accused of. I have calculated, that there is a 2.7% chance he is guilty.” her smooth voice forced Kyril into submission. Throwing himself limply upon his commanding leather chair, with a sigh, he began rubbing his temples.

“I know, Eve, I know... but there is evidence that a message was sent from his personal terminal, which is passworded, only a high...” Kyril stopped suddenly, his brow tensed as his brain came into a realisation.

Within the hour, two security teams had been sent to the docking bay where Captain Hyphon’s transport would soon enter. The room was vast and long. The metal walls, purple with a golden trim around the surface endings, various support pillars glistened golden from the lights built into the ceilings. A half moon stratagem was erected in the middle of the central rear wall. It’s metal work black with purple trimmings, making it stand out from the rest of the décor. It stood thirty feet from the floor, supported by more of the golden pillars. Kyril was stood upon the stratagem, waiting, proud. Wearing a simple white t-shirt tucked into his navy fatigues, Kyril still filled out his clothes magnificently despite his age and a little belly beginning to protrude.

Kyril was flanked by another security team, who had their weapons resting upon their chests, with a look that mirrored the expectancy of trouble. After five minutes, Kyril began to pace. Then the drones of an approaching small transport ship could be heard, long before it came into view. Mechanical teams quickly began scuttling about the deck in preparation of the landing, their hi-vis vests flowing in the artificial wind. An earth brown transport hawk came into sight through the force field shielding, it’s pilot taking care as he brought the small vessel into the metal harbour.

The Hawk was a very small transport, cramped and designed for five people but was carrying seven, Captain Hyphon, five security guards dressed in the same earth dirt of the ships skin, the six men, stood anxiously near the exit ramp of the rectangular ship, and in the far corner of the transport hold, sat Advisor Winslow, his feet kicked up upon the opposite seat, a smile slowly lengthen across his hateful, gaunt face. The light glistening his teeth as they began to peek between his cracking lips, the cargo hold light suddenly disappeared. The time was now. Hyphon was probably going to lose his ship and for no good reason, and all Winslow could do, was smirk, Hyphon could feel his temper rising. The disappeared light was now replaced by a dim red night glow. The room was filled with the deep red and black sea emitted from the landing light. The engines whined and shuddered as they changed direction to slow the ship down as it came into the artificial gravity of The Evergreen’s landing area. With a soft bounce, the ship was down. Hyphon’s heart sank to the deepest depths of space as the doors hissed and fell open. The bright light of the landing room penetrated even through to Winslow’s soul. Kyril stopped pacing when the door lowered, approaching the black barriers to make sure, the moment the visitors look up, he was the first thing they saw. Errol and his security team exited, they were flanked by a welcome guard of six soldiers, three down each line of the ramp. When it came to Winslows turn to exit the craft, they teams closed in to form a wall, barring him from exiting the transport. “What is the meaning of this!” he spat at the guards. “Sorry, sir, orders. You are not permitted to enter The Evergreen.” came a guards voice from behind a visor.

Solomon had finished his bridge shift an hour ago, he was making his way to the landing room when he almost collided with Lyra, sending his sadness fluttering away, his very soul warming despite the cold corridor, Lyra, however was not happy. She had been rushing to get another batch of cookies to the infirmary before Solomon crashed into her, only crumbs and broken cookies remained on the cold metal floor now. Lyra stormed off leaving Solomon alone in the cold with only his warm feelings that had now began fleeting.

The cold corridor shone brighter than usual, hinting a soothing warmth as Lyra walked towards the infirmary. Lyra’s pale face glistened wet from tears as she walked into the bright white busy medical bay. The room had not been peaceful since the attack. blood soaked sheets littered the floors. Every bed was occupied with a wounded and bloodied person, some shared two to a crimson speckled mattress, the nurses tending to their patients whilst the doctors working in the far corner surgery on a severely wounded crew member of The Pride of Lions.

‘Best get some work done’, Thought Lyra to herself as she tied back her long auburn locks, noting that Doctor Fredricks was not in the room, perhaps he was getting more medical supplies.

Solomon had made his way down to the library, looking for Sandra, to check up on her. He eventually found her, slouched over her usual terminal, head hidden within her arms, asleep. Solomon pulled another book from a shelf and sat opposite Sandra’s sleeping form, breathing softly. The Library’s usual silent personality had quickly vanished when the extra crew arrived. Many had taken to this room to familiarise themselves with the ship and to occupy their minds from the obliteration of their once warm homes. Opening his new book, Solomon began to read, and escaped for a little while. Escaped into forests greener than any world could naturally produce, an elf fighting an orc over land and pride. Not usually what Solomon would read, but change was not always a bad thing.

Kyril Sinderman watched with a smile as Captain Hyphon walked limply towards the boarding ramp of his ship, the Crew of The Evergreen had just finished refuelling his vessel. His pilot was giving the thumbs up thought the cockpit glass as the engines fired and spluttered into life. Winslow closely followed Hyphon with his eyes, like a stray dog, hungrily, hopefully sniffing for food, Hyphon merely shrugged his heavy shoulders in disbelief as he climbed the ramp. Kyril’s smile widened as he saw the frustration in Winslow’s hateful face as he cast an elegant wave to the disembarking ship. The whining sound of the transport ship soon died away, and no sooner had Kyril turned to his security party, thanked them, and sent them away before he turned his attention back to his own ship.

“Eve, prepare the convoy for Jump 2. we are behind schedule.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Solomon stood at the silver reinforced metal door of the command bridge, taking in a deep sigh. Needing to enter the room, but not having the willing energy was a new sensation to him. Solomon loved his job. Absolutely loved it. He loved The Evergreen, he loved space, he loved every single aspect of his job. So why was he feeling this dread of entering the Bridge? Amy Sykes. A dreadful woman, O.C.D. was an understatement for her behaviour. In the few hours she had on her first shift on the bridge, she had rearranged the entire bridge crew, changed the ordering procedures, and removed the coffee machine. Solomon hated her for the latter.

“SolGord, one, one, three, one”

“Welcome Lieutenant Commander Gordon, there has been no developments to report” said Eve soothingly, Solomon wasted no time responding to Eve, he strutted over to a locked cupboard, Commander Sykes eyed him like a hawk, making absolutely sure that he made no mess and changed nothing. The blue carpets under his feet softened his footsteps, walking along the right hand side weapons bench he reached the locked cupboard. Fetched out a little key from his pocket and opened it, hauling out a large piece of equipment that had a very distinct odour. Without a second wasted, the entire bridge crew began sniffing hungrily. They knew the scent. A scent they had longed for. A scent they had dearly missed for the last two days on Sykes shift. Coffee. Solomon set up the large coffee machine on top of the empty cupboard space, just to the side of the weapons desk, humming an up beat tune to himself, This made the tactical officers smile. A loud crunching echoed through the silent Command Bridge as he turned on the coffee machine and it began to grind the coffee beans into a fine powder, waiting for hot water to make them into a delicious hot beverage.

Solomon barely heard Commander Sykes closing in on him. Her eyes wide in disbelief. “Commander, coffee is forbidden on this bridge.” she said in a monotone. Solomon pulled out his favourite mug and started whistling as if he hadn’t heard her. Lovingly smelling the coffee and allowing its scent to surround the room. Solomon turned to Amy with an indifferent look upon his face. “That will do now, Amy, you are not needed. Your shift has ended one hundred and twenty seconds ago.” said Solomon in a giddy tone, “and coffee is permitted on my shift, so coffee for everyone!” He continued taking a sip of the steaming hot coffee with an exaggerated sigh of pleasure. Before Amy could retort or Solomon lower his mug, a soft klaxon sounded in the bridge and Eve sprung back to life. “Lieutenant Commander, we have a code sixteen.” the Bridge crew began whispering amongst themselves. Shock and disbelief was evident in their eyes. Trained and as battle hardened they had been over the years, never prepares them for the news of a code sixteen. “Murder?” said Solomon, unable to raise his voice any higher than a whisper. Once finding his voice he then found his command. “Who? Where? Send a security team and-” Solomon’s voice trailed off as Kyril stormed into the room, his uniform hanging untidily from his body, clearly abruptly awoken with the news. “Eve, send a Criminal Inspection Team down to The L.W.R. with two security teams. I want Doctor Fredrick’s body taken off show, and the entire ship picked clean for the bastard who has done this!” growled Kyril as he stomped through the room tucking his shirt in as he entered the Captains Conference Room, “Solomon, with me.” he commanded and with a wave of a frail hand, he beckoned Solomon to him.

Lyra sat with her head in her hands. Her usual flowing auburn hair lay deadly still. The loss of Ward Doctor Fredrick had shaken her. It had shaken everybody. A murder upon The Evergreen. It was no mystery that the Ward Doctor had been murdered, he had been missing for two days, but the way he was found, mutilated beyond recognition, hands and feet missing. They only discovered it was the good Doctor by his bloodied name badge upon his shirt. His teeth had been removed so no dental records would confirm him. Fighting back the tears that had formed in her eyes, she sniffed back the cold fear of a killer aboard the ship and began to count the pills into cups. The white walls of the medical bay glistening from the fresh clean, as it had been dirtied in the fight with the pirates with blood and muck, The remaining wounded, a reminder of what had passed. Drying her warm face, she began handing out the cups to the wounded men and women, often casting a glance to Fredrick’s desk, where he used to take a quick snooze during pill time. His childish voice and speech used to annoy her to the high heavens. Now, she will miss it.

Sandra sat, deflated in a corner chair, watching Lyra hand out the small white paper cups, taking a large bite from yet another one of Lyra’s cookies with a sigh. ‘was this life unsheltered from father?’ she thought to herself as Lyra approached. ‘Death and silent coldness surrounds us, only a metal wall is protecting us from suffocation...’ Sandra’s thoughts trailed off as Lyra’s quick footsteps came closer. “Here, take this, it’ll help” she said to Sandra offering her a single green pill with a small paper cup of water. Without question, Sandra took it, swallowing it greedily. Lyra smiled as she sat down opposite Sandra. Sandra’s gloomy appearance worried her, Sandras once bouncy blonde hair was greasy and scrapped back. Her eyes sunken deeper into her skull, showing very little or if any sleep had taken place in the last two days.

“Don’t worry Sandy, the pills will kick in soon.”

“What is it? Morphine? To kill the fear?”

Lyra let out a hoarse laugh. “No, no, just a rhino tranquilliser.”

Sandra dropped the crumbs of cookie she had picked off her combat shirt as she looked up at Lyra, unable to blink until she saw a smile spread across Lyra’s petite face. “got you!” chuckled Lyra as she reassured Sandra it was just a mild Anxiety Sedative. Sandra’s face seemed to crack as she was forced to smile for the first time in two days.

The Command Bridge was alive with busy bodies shouting aloud commands and numbers as the ship sped through to it’s third designated jump. The stars are nothing but a blur through the speeding ships armoured windows. Solomon stood with his back to the moving stars, leaning against his chair and holding a printed copy of the letter found on Doctors Fredrick’s murdered corpse.

“Nobody is safe from me. You will not survive to see your newly found ‘friends’. I am in the dark, I feed upon the light. I am your shadows. Come and see, and I shall come. With love, The Pilgrim.”

The doctors’ body was found murdered in a utility corridor of the L.R.W. by an engineer, practically drained of blood and most of his flesh removed. A partial skeletal frame was all that remained of the doctor. Solomon studied the handwritten letter. The writing; rushed and scruffy, Solomon tried to recognise it but to no avail. Kyril was running a ship wide diagnostic looking for transportation or unauthorised entries through the landing bays or any of the lifeboat air locks. Solomon felt the murderer was still aboard one of the ships.

The Bridge klaxon softly sounded indicating the ship was ready to slow from light speed. “Captain, we are approaching Position Three. I have sent communications to the other vessels.” said Eve in her soft silky voice. Kyril nodded and returned to his seat, holding a paper folder of the daily reports.

The stars slowed to their single specks upon the darkness of space. “Eve, run diagnostics and do the usual, please” commanded Kyril, his voice had certainly taken a very tired tone. His eyes had begun to lower with weight, Solomon could swear the man had turned more grey in the last two days. The room’s red and blue soft carpets or even the hidden stashes of alcohol in either of Kyril or Solomon’s chairs could not cheer the grieving Captain Commander up.

Barely fifteen minutes had passed before Eve spoke again. “Captain Commander, I have detected a vessel less than six hundred kilometres from our current position....” Kyril wasted no time, standing from his chair with more speed than Solomon has ever seen, he began ordering. “Battle stations! shields up! How the hell can they know our position?!” he angrily asked himself.

Doctor Fredrick’s Murder would have to wait until after they had dealt with the pirates.

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