The Crucible: Leap of Faith by Odette C. Bell

“That’s
impossible. The Armadale is a strike ship. They’re currently dealing with
pirates along the Northern Advance—”
    “Unless there’s a
mistake with this transmission, they’re sending the Armadale ,” Hargrove’s
voice shook.
    Why the hell would Central Command
send one of their fastest most effective strike ships to some
obscure archeological dig?
    Ensign Weatherby had been one of
my best friends. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of months, sure, but
we always kept in contact. His death was crushing. But this – this
didn’t make any sense.
    I passed a hand over my face,
burying it into my palm momentarily.
    “Shit,” Hargrove swore
softly.
    I dropped the hand.
    Hargrove’s brown skin had paled,
his bloodshot eyes more pronounced than ever.
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “They don’t want me to make
contact with anyone regarding this situation. I didn’t get this
message in time—”
    “Relax, Lieutenant. I can confirm
you didn’t receive that communique until after you contacted me,” I
said before digesting exactly what he’d said.
    … Central Command didn’t want
information about this incident to spread?
    There were several possible
reasons for a total communications blackout, but I couldn’t think
of a good one that would apply now.
    Hargrove looked even more
destroyed than when he’d begun the conversation. He kept glancing
back at the screen to his left, as if he couldn’t believe what he
was reading.
    I couldn’t believe it
either.
    “I could lose my command for
this.” He planted a hand on his brow, his fingers drawing hard
against his hair.
    “No you couldn’t. You did not
receive your orders before you put in this call. Plus, you have my
assurance that I will treat this information as secret, and will
not speak of it. I will abide by the same blackout orders you have
received.”
    “This came directly from the Joint
Committee,” Hargrove said with a trembling voice.
    My mouth opened.
    I wanted to point out he had to be
wrong. But unless this was all some kind of elaborate joke,
Hargrove was telling the truth. He wouldn’t have achieved the
position of lieutenant if he’d been incapable of reading
communiques.
    … Which meant everything he’d just
told me was true.
    We stared at each other for a few
more shocked seconds.
    “Should I admit to Central Command
that I’ve already contacted you?” Hargrove asked.
    It wasn’t a question he should be
asking. It only had one possible answer.
    Yes.
    But I didn’t snap at him. I could
sympathize with his pain and confusion, even if it meant I had to
push mine back momentarily. “Yes, Lieutenant, let them know. I will
also submit a report detailing that you are not at fault, and that
I will abide by the blackout. Have you contacted anyone
else?”
    “No. Just you. I was going to
leave his family to last. I figured it would be easier to start
with a fellow Star Forces officer.” Hargrove took a stiff breath
and closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again,
he appeared to have regained a modicum of control. “Thank you,
sir.”
    I nodded my head low. “Good… luck,
Lieutenant,” I managed. Though I’d intended my words to be
encouraging, my voice faltered.
    Hargrove snapped a salute and
ended the transmission.
    That left me alone in my room
reeling.
    Max Weatherby was dead.
    … We’d grown up together, and he’d
always been there – a voice of reason whenever my father’s imperial
fervor drove me to the edge.
    Sure, we weren’t as close as we
once were, but that didn’t matter.
    This still hurt like hell. This
still felt as if someone had driven a knife right through my
chest.
    I stood there for a few minutes
with my hands clasped around the edges of the bench. My fingers
were painfully stiff, and I watched as they drained to the color of
bleached bone.
    Finally I pushed myself
away.
    I staggered, legs like
water.
    Grasping a hand over my mouth, I
took a breath, letting it hiss between my