A week in deep space had given Nathan time to find his rhythm as the Meridian's de facto captain, though he still felt like he was playing a role that didn't quite fit. The ship's systems hummed around him as he made his morning rounds, checking in with the crew that had somehow become his responsibility.
"Navigation's holding steady," Vel reported from her station, her augmented left eye interfacing seamlessly with the display screens while her right eye focused on Nathan. The cybernetic replacement whirred softly as it processed navigation data in real-time. "We're still invisible to long-range sensors, drifting in the shadow of that asteroid field."
"Good. Any signs of pursuit?"
"Nothing. Naomi's stealth protocols are working perfectly. As far as the rest of the galaxy knows, we don't exist."
Nathan nodded and moved on to Riley, who was running diagnostics on the ship's defensive systems. "How are we looking?"
"All green," she replied, her pilot's instincts adapting well to the larger ship's systems. "The Meridian's built like a fortress. UNSC really didn't spare any expense on this beauty."
"Speaking of not sparing expense," Nathan said, "any issues with Slade's engineering reports?"
Riley shook her head. "He's keeping the engines running perfectly, but…" She lowered her voice. "He's barely speaking to anyone. Just does his work and disappears. I tried to talk to him yesterday about coolant efficiency and got maybe three words."
Nathan sighed. He'd been trying to connect with Slade since the incident, but the man seemed determined to isolate himself. "I'll check on him after I see Kessler."
He found Kessler at the sensor station, surrounded by displays showing the Meridian's various stealth systems. Her face lit up when she saw him.
"Nathan, you have to see this," she said excitedly. "Naomi's integration with the Meridian's systems is incredible. Not only can nobody freaking see us but she's actually adapting our electromagnetic signature to match background radiation patterns. It's almost like she's making us invisible by becoming part of space itself."
"That does sound impressive," Nathan said, though he had to admit the technical details went over his head.
"Impressive?" Kessler laughed. "This is revolutionary. The processing power required to do real-time signature adaptation while maintaining life support, navigation, and communication systems simultaneously…This might be the coolest thing I've seen in a while."
"Please stop," Naomi's voice came through the speakers, carrying a distinctly embarrassed tone. "You're making me sound like some kind of technological miracle."
"You are a technological miracle," Kessler insisted. "The way you've optimized our power distribution alone has increased our operational efficiency by thirty percent excuse my language but it's fucking awesome."
"Kessler, seriously—"
"And the way you've integrated with the food production systems? We could stay out here indefinitely. The hydroponic bays are producing more fresh food than they ever did under automated control."
"Hey Nathan, He's awake," Naomi interrupted, clearly desperate to change the subject.
Nathan frowned. "Who's awake?"
"Korven. He's been asking for you."
Nathan felt his stomach tighten. He'd been dreading this conversation for days. "Thanks Naomi, I'll head down there now."
As he made his way through the Meridian's corridors toward the medical bay, his mind drifted back to the night of the incident…
The mess hall had been unusually quiet that evening, everyone picking at their food and avoiding eye contact. The weight of losing the Carrion's Prize hung over them like a funeral shroud. Nathan had found himself sitting across from Vel, who was mechanically eating without seeming to taste anything.
"I don't understand," Nathan had said finally, breaking the silence. "I mean, I get that losing your ship is hard, but the way everyone's reacting… it's like someone died."
Vel had looked up sharply, her face flashing with something that might have been anger. "To us, someone did die."
"I didn't mean—"
"No, you don't get it," Vel said, setting down her fork. "That ship wasn't just our transportation. It wasn't just where we worked. It was our damn home."
Nathan had shifted uncomfortably. "But you can get another ship, right? Build something new?"
"Build something new?" Vel's voice had risen slightly, causing other conversations to pause. "You think it's that simple? That ship was years of memories. years of Slade rebuilding every system by hand. years of Boomer's modifications, my navigation logs, Korven's command decisions."
"Vel, I understand you're upset—"
"Do you?" She leaned forward, her voice intense. "That ship was where Boomer first smiled after the corporate lawyers stole his family's mining claim. It was where I learned to navigate after…" She gestured at her augmented eye. "After I lost my natural sight and had to learn to trust cybernetic replacements. It was where Slade taught all of us that being family doesn't require blood relations."
Nathan had tried to find the right words, but everything sounded inadequate.
"We were all orphans in different ways," Vel continued, her voice getting more emotional. "Korven, kicked out of the Navy for doing the right thing. Slade, alone until he found us and we found him. Boomer, watching lawyers destroy three generations of his family's work. Me, running from parents who'd rather profit from other people's misery than look their daughter in the eye."
"I'm sorry, I—"
"That ship was where we became real family. Where we learned to trust each other. Where we built something that mattered." Tears had started flowing down her cheek. "And Korven sacrificed it to save all of us. So excuse me if I'm not ready to just 'get another ship' and pretend like none of that mattered."
Nathan had sat in stunned silence, finally beginning to understand the depth of what they'd lost. Before he could respond, Kessler had appeared at their table.
"She's right, you know," Kessler had said quietly, sliding into the seat next to Nathan. "I really thought you would have been someone who could understand that."
"What do you mean?"
"Your brother," Kessler had said gently. "The way you talk about him, the way losing him affected you… Don't you understand what it's like to lose family?"
Nathan had felt the words hit him like a physical blow. The comparison between Marcus and the Carrion's Prize crew hadn't occurred to him, but once Kessler said it, it seemed obvious.
"They weren't just a crew," Kessler had continued. "They were more than that. Just like Marcus wasn't just your brother, he was part of who you are. That ship was part of who they are."
Nathan had looked around the mess hall at the grieving faces of the Carrion's Prize crew and finally understood why Slade's rage had been so devastating, why Korven had taken the beating without fighting back, why everyone seemed lost.
They hadn't just lost their ship. They'd lost their home.
The memory faded as Nathan reached the medical bay. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Korven lay propped up in the medical bed, his face a map of healing bruises. Heavy bandages wrapped around his jaw and forehead, and Nathan could see the edge of medical tape around his ribs. His eyes were alert but carried a weight that went beyond physical pain. When he tried to speak, only a pained grunt emerged.
"Don't try to talk," Nathan said quickly, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. "The medical system says your jaw is still healing. Just nod or shake your head, okay?"
Korven nodded slowly, relief evident in his eyes.
"Good. First question, are you in much pain right now?"
A slight nod.
"The medication helping at all?"
Another nod, though less certain.
Nathan leaned back in his chair. "Look, I know this is complicated. What happened with Slade, what you sacrificed for all of us… I want you to know I understand now. What that ship meant to your crew."
Korven's eyes met his, and Nathan saw something that looked like gratitude mixed with profound sadness.
"I talked to Vel a few nights ago. She helped me understand what your family really meant. What you all built together over those fifteen years." Nathan paused. "The question is, do you still want to help us? With Phantom, I mean. I know we're not your crew, and after everything that's happened…"
Korven's response was immediate, a firm nod, his eyes determined despite the pain.
"You're sure? You don't have to feel obligated—"
Another nod, more emphatic this time. Korven struggled briefly, then managed to whisper one word: "Responsible."
"You feel responsible for Phantom?"
A nod.
"Because we're carrying the technology that might create more like it?"
Another nod.
Nathan studied the older man's face. "What happens after? When Phantom's dealt with?"
Korven was quiet for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. His expression grew pained, and not from his physical injuries.
"You really don't think you can face your crew?"
Another nod.
"You just think that they're gonna blame you for the ship, what, forever?"
Korven's response was more complex, a partial nod, then a gesture toward himself. He was taking the blame, Nathan realized, whether his crew felt that way or not.
"Korven, you saved our lives. All of us."
The older man rolled his eyes, his expression suggesting that didn't matter to him. He pointed to himself again, then made a gesture that clearly meant 'leaving.'
Nathan wanted to argue, to tell Korven he was wrong about his crew's feelings, but he could see the man's mind was made up. The weight of command, of making impossible choices, Nathan was beginning to understand that burden.
"All right," Nathan said finally. "We'll figure out where you want to go after we deal with Phantom. But for now, just focus on healing. We need you."
Korven nodded once more, then closed his eyes, exhaustion claiming him again.
Nathan made his way back to the bridge, where he found most of the crew gathered around the central display. Naomi's avatar had appeared on the main screen, a young woman with shoulder-length dark hair and green eyes that seemed both ancient and youthful.
"How is he?" Vel asked as Nathan joined them, her augmented eye briefly focusing on him while her natural eye remained on the display.
"Healing. And he's still willing to help us with Phantom."
"Good," Ilson said. "Because we might have a lead."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of lead?"
"Jessikah managed to reach one of her contacts on the outer colonies yesterday," Vel explained. "Someone with access to UNSC operational reports. There have been… incidents."
"What kind of incidents?"
"Titan Frame squads going missing," Jessikah said, her voice tight with emotion. "Always the same pattern, teams sent on 'training exercises' or 'reconnaissance missions' in sectors where Phantom has been reported. They never come back."
Ilson's face darkened. "They're still feeding people to that thing. Using them as bait to gather data."
"Or to test Phantom's capabilities," Nathan said grimly. "How many teams?"
"At least six in the last month," Jessikah replied. "Maybe more that haven't been reported."
"Those are real people," Ilson said, his voice rising. "Real pilots with families, with lives. And Command is just throwing them away for intelligence reports."
Nathan felt the familiar anger rising in his chest. More senseless waste. More lives sacrificed for information that never seemed to save anyone.
"What if we could bring Phantom out of hiding without risking anyone?" Naomi asked suddenly.
Everyone turned to look at her avatar. "What do you mean?" Nathan asked.
"I've been studying the Meridian's Titan Frame bays," Naomi said. "With my consciousness integrated into the ship's systems, I could theoretically pilot a Frame remotely. No human pilot at risk."
"You think you could fight Phantom?" Kessler asked.
"Not fight. Survive long enough to disengage and track it back to wherever it goes after missions. Phantom may be able to disappear, but it can't completely eliminate its trail. If we could follow it to its base of operations…"
"We could find out who's really controlling it," Nathan finished. "And maybe put an end to this."
"It's risky," Riley said. "If something goes wrong, we lose a Frame. And if you can't maintain the connection…"
"Better than losing more pilots," Naomi replied. "And unlike human pilots, I don't have physical limitations. I could push the Frame to its absolute limits."
Nathan looked around at the assembled crew. For the first time since they'd escaped the Hope of Acer, he saw something that looked like hope on their faces.
"All right," he said. "Let's start planning."