The False Admiral by Sean Danker

space, but territory that was known only to the most daring surveyors. That wasn’t a comforting thought.
    â€œWatch your step, ma’am. There’s something on the floor here,” Salmagard said to Deilani.
    â€œWhat is it?” I asked.
    â€œLooks like a maintenance kit. Someone’s been through here,” she said, directing the words at me.
    â€œNot necessarily—it could just be Tremma’s style. He’s not hung up on details,” I told her.
    â€œI noticed,” Salmagard replied. There it was: that flash of disdain in her voice. I smiled. She could trade her class for the uniform, but she couldn’t turn it off completely. What a fascinating girl. “We’ve cleared the third core. Moving into the cylinder. Visibility low,” she added.
    â€œThere’s dry ice under that mesh. Just keep your suit powered and dial up your filtration.”
    â€œDo we need to switch to O 2 ?” Deilani asked.
    â€œIt should be safe, but watch your monitor just in case. You picking anything up, Private?”
    â€œNegative.”
    â€œAdmiral?” The way Deilani said it made me wish she’d call me something else.
    â€œWhat is it, Lieutenant?”
    â€œThe ladder here is heavily damaged. It doesn’t look recent.”
    â€œJust make peace with the fact that this ship isn’t up to code. Blame it on Ganraen engineering.”
    â€œThis has nothing to do with engineering—this is some kind of combat damage.”
    I sighed. Couldn’t these three take a hint and just
stop noticing things
? For their own sake as much as mine. How could I convince them that they were happier just getting on with their lives?
    I didn’t think I could.
    â€œWhy would there be a fight on a Ganraen freighter run by the Imperial Service, Admiral?” Deilani asked, and I could picture her fingers opening and closing again, practicing for my neck.
    â€œNo one said the Service ran this ship,” I pointed out.
    â€œSo Captain Tremma was just the owner? Just a guy with a commercial freighter? You’re saying the academies handed our sleepers to some freelance courier?”
    She had a point. That would never happen.
    â€œEr,” I said.
    â€œGo on, Admiral. Don’t be shy.”
    â€œYou’re right. That doesn’t seem very likely, does it?”
    â€œWho did this?” I could hear her over the com, tapping on the metal.
    â€œNot a clue,” I replied, meaning it. I hadn’t the faintest idea what had happened to the damn ladder. I could
guess
, but there was a high probability that with Tremma dead, no one would ever know. There was a pause.
    â€œWe’ll have to find another way up, ma’am,” Salmagard said to Deilani.
    I still hadn’t seen anything to suggest we weren’t alone.
    Something about this didn’t feel right. Something about
all
of it didn’t feel right. There was strangeness I could explain, even with the trainees’ wild conspiracy theories, and then there was this. I’d have to be careful not to mention that to Deilani.
    There was a sharp intake of breath over the com. “What is it?” I looked up at the paneled ceiling. Deilani and Salmagard had to be above us.
    â€œSir, there’s a hatch up here to the outer corridor—we are completely depressurized on the other side.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThere must be some kind of hull breach.”
    I swore, amazed. We hadn’t even
suspected
a breach.
    This was life without computers. We’d been completely oblivious.
    â€œBetter check it out,” I said.
    â€œSir, there is some electronic interference.”
    It took a moment for Salmagard’s words to sink in. “To your suit or your scanner?”
    â€œScanner, sir.”
    â€œBut there’s no
power
,” I said. “What could interfere with a combat scanner? Apart from, like, military jammers?”
    â€œI don’t know,