No Man's Space 1: Starship Encounter

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No Man's Space 1: Starship Encounter Page 9

by Nate Duke


  “Lucky that you aren’t in charge,” I said.

  “Lucky that you aren’t facing me in a fight.” He pulled me up and got ready to continue.

  More sparring? Seriously? How long do captains spar for? And how can they do all their captain’s duties while they’re exhausted? Or do they delegate everything they do?

  I’d spent most of my youth on Earth. My school had been one of the best schools for average families, so kids learned to read and write, basic arithmetic, and some history. I’d learned languages on my own and I’d had access to the Node and to libraries, but I lacked the refinement from upper society. I didn’t bow, I didn’t court ladies by asking them to dance at posh balls, and I’d never needed a sword in real life.

  Earning a scholarship to one of the preppy schools had turned me into a target for every wealthy kid’s sword practice. I should’ve learned the noble art of swordplay, but it had been a risky sport. Have you ever tried to fight against five kids with electric swords? It doesn’t end well, even if they’re zapping you at the lowest setting.

  Learning to fight against Flanagan had refreshed the memories. He didn’t need a team of five to knock me down and remind me that engineers are at the bottom of the food chain when it comes to fighting.

  There you have it: that’s why I hate violence. If I’d been a better fighter, I wouldn’t have despised it so much.

  Banner entered the gym and cleared his throat. He held his back perfectly straight and clasped both hands behind his back as he waited to get our attention. He looked just like heroic captains at holographic museums. He’d probably practiced the pose all his life and expected to intimidate me by looking more like an officer.

  It wasn’t going to work. He was all pose.

  Banner had ignored my direct orders because he’d wanted to show off before Lady Elizabeth. He’d captured the men and handed them to the port authorities, and he’d avoided me since. Neither him nor the men had been wounded or killed by the rebels, but men didn’t easily get away from insubordination in the Navy. I could assign him extra watches or lock him up in the brig until we got back to Earth.

  Unfortunately, fate had left him as my second in command. I couldn’t get rid of him unless I wanted one of the midshipmen to fulfill his duties. Midshipmen ran around the ship, didn’t shower often enough, and the older ones always paid too much attention to the ladies we met aboard spaceports.

  I generally wasn’t resentful, but Banner had a special way of sneering at me that made me forget my professionalism.

  Banner gestured at Flanagan to leave. Flanagan looked at me, and I nodded to back the order.

  At least someone knew who’s the boss.

  Banner picked up Flanagan’s practice sword and saluted at me, then swished it from side to side to show off. “Want to try a new sparring partner?” He sneered at me and glanced at the badge on my chest.

  Okay, I get it. I’m an engineer and we both know that I’m not a good fighter.

  I dropped the practice sword and clasped both hands behind my back. “Mr. Banner,” I said.

  “Mr. Wood,” he replied flatly. He dropped Flanagan’s practice sword too and mirrored my pose.

  What was I supposed to do? Send him to the bo’sun? He was a lieutenant; lieutenants were supposed to respect the chain of command.

  Banner didn’t show any fear for having ignored my orders. He was basically expecting me to drop command into his hands. “You may interrogate the vandals as soon as you like,” he said. “They weren’t eager to speak for now, but you might get something out of them.”

  “I might,” I said flatly.

  Banner cleared his throat. “I knew I could handle, sir,” he said. “If we run away, we’ll lose all authority before the locals. We represent the Navy. We’re officers. We must fight for the laws that we uphold, or we’ll end in anarchy.”

  He might’ve been right about the Navy ideals, but those rules are made for fully manned ships. He was risking too much. I reprimanded him, I told him that my second in command couldn’t afford to leave the North Star at the hands of midshipmen if something happened to me. I told him that it could’ve been a trap and that we could’ve been attacked by a second wave. We knew nothing of the enemy or the port, so any risk was too much. We couldn’t afford more losses.

  Banner nodded. “I’ll try not to follow my impulses next time,” he said. “But all’s well that ends well.”

  “Leave those opinions to me.” I stepped forth to become more intimidating and placed both hands on my hips to look bigger. “Banner, you’ve served as a midshipman and you’re eager to command, but we’re in a difficult situation. I was promoted sooner, and that makes me acting captain. I say something, you do it. This won’t work unless we’re both on the same boat.”

  We stared at each other. He was confident that he was right because he’d been lucky. I thought I was right because I’d have avoided the risk. We’d have shot each other if we’d been cowboys in the Old West, but we were educated officers in the Navy.

  “In that case…” Banner grinned at me. He’d expected me to mark my rank and my situation, and I’d fallen into his trap. “Lady Elizabeth has detected a subtle signal a couple of days away from the port. She thinks it might be the governor’s ship or his escape shuttle.”

  Why didn’t they return to the port if they were aboard a friendly ship? Governor McMurdoch had disappeared from the station several weeks before. The chances of finding him safely aboard a friendly shuttle were close to none.

  Banner was very satisfied by then. He’d planned to involve me in the rescue mission. If I forbade him from chasing after the governor, Lady Elizabeth wouldn’t forgive me. She’d complain to the Admiralty, and I’d end up picking up space trash aboard an old-fashioned ship. I had no choice but to help the governor, even if it meant risking the crew and my own integrity.

  I’d been acting captain for a few days and I was already hating the Navy’s inner politics. I lacked the soul of a career officer.

  “Should we take a shuttle and scan the region?” Banner asked.

  Yes. I wasn’t going to let him gain Lady Elizabeth’s favor so easily. If she needed heroes to save her father or to act as though they were trying hard, I had to act the part.

  I instructed the North Star to scan the area using our long-range active sensors. We didn’t want any surprises. Cassock frigates had acquired new cloaking technologies and we’d be blind to most of them, but some might not have activated their camouflage at maximum power.

  A midshipman called back from the North Star with the scan results: we hadn’t noticed any serious dangers that could hinder our approach. If we had any Cassocks nearby, they were hiding well.

  And now I was about to board a transport shuttle with Banner. The prospect was hardly promising, but I could always dump him into space if he didn’t behave. My crew wouldn’t complain.

  Chapter 13

  Midshipman Gomez ran to one of the virtual windows on the shuttle. The so-called window was actually a screen that showed the external cameras’ views. He pointed at a small bright star in the distance. “I’ve read about this,” he said excitedly. “It’s part of a constellation. What’s its name? My dad always talked about it, but I can’t remember the charts. Can we get any closer to Orion, sir?”

  Banner rolled his eyes and ignored him. He’d insisted that we shouldn’t take any midshipmen on our trip because they weren’t ready.

  Considering our situation, we needed the North Star’s midshipmen to get more used to naval life. Society didn’t allow us to promote any of the common crew unless they went through an exhaustive battery of tests before the Admiralty, so no lowborns ever earned a proper officer’s rank unless they single-handedly defeated an entire army. If we wanted officers, we needed the midshipmen: the kids who woke up in the middle of the night because they had nightmares, the kids who broke into the pantry to steal our chocolate reserves, and the kids who looked at us lieutenants through admiring bright eyes. Bann
er and I were every kid’s dream: getting command well before our turn arrived.

  Oh, wait. I held command. Banner was just my acting commander. It must’ve been very frustrating to lose six lieutenants and the captain, but not to gain command.

  I’d brought Gomez in case Banner decided to act stupid. Taking a kid with me reduced the chances of mutiny and of being shot. Nobody wants to kill anyone in front of an innocent-eyed kid. Bringing Gomez along had been a selfish move, and I’m not ashamed to acknowledge it. I’d also brought York, Kozinski and Flanagan along, because they seemed to dislike me less than they disliked Banner.

  I was flying the ship with my neural controls and Banner was my co-pilot, but he hadn’t supervised any of my maneuvers. He wouldn’t have cared if I’d plotted a course straight into the nearest sun. He was too busy showing his dislike for everyone around him. He’d admired O’Keeffe and he’d shown respect towards him, but how could anyone expect him to treat an engineer well? We were the outcasts of society.

  And I was in command, and I still hadn’t messed up too much. And I’d been close to capturing a fleet of Cassocks with a handful of men and a couple of sneaky tricks. I’m sure that he hated the situation. And me. Had he expected me to drop command after the first morning? It wasn’t going to happen.

  “Think the governor’s alive?” Banner asked.

  Oh, so now he wondered about his physical integrity? He’d made me fly to the middle of nowhere to rescue the governor because he was definitely alive and well. He could’ve mentioned the possibility of death sooner, you know? I’d have had the perfect excuse not to join him.

  “Do you think he’s met the Cassocks?” I said. “He won’t be alive if he has.”

  Banner gulped, and his expression darkened. His mind returned to the moment of his capture, to his captivity, and to the feeling of losing all hope. The North Star wasn’t supposed to survive the attack. If my men and I hadn’t been reckless and insane enough to rescue him, he’d have died slowly and painfully. I didn’t like Banner, but I was sorry for him.

  Even short captivities at the hands of the Cassocks can change a man’s outlook on life. Many men spend their days trying to avoid a second capture, ensuring that they’ll never feel defenseless again. We’d all heard the stories about torture and painful deaths aboard Cassock ships, and the thought of it can change a man’s priorities. Banner hadn’t suffered at their hands, but men don’t always handle the prospect of suffering well. To some, the thought of being hurt at some point in the future is much worse than actual pain. This was Banner’s case.

  “I don’t care if he’s alive,” Banner said. “We must try to look for him and his crew, and to report everything back to Earth. The port’s under siege and gets raided too frequently for my taste. We need to go out there and see what’s going on.”

  “And that’s the perfect reason for the two seniormost officers aboard the North Star to leave the port aboard a flimsy shuttle,” I said sarcastically. “Scouting missions are perfectly safe.”

  “You can go back to the port if you like,” Banner said. “I’ll take care of the mission.”

  “I’ll stay,” I said. “But you can go back if you’re scared.”

  “I’ll stay too.”

  I wasn’t going to back down from taking risks, and neither was he. This was like a drinking game, only that we were risking our lives, the chain of command of one of the Navy’s ships of the line, and possibly Aurora Port’s integrity.

  Did Banner realize that our egos were making us break most of the Navy’s recommendations about command? Captains could take their commanders on missions if they had a bunch of lieutenants left. We were being reckless and childish by trying to impress a lady, but I wasn’t going to back down. I’d backed down too often during my life, and it had only led me to becoming an engineer.

  My prudence had also kept me alive. Is this why many brave men don’t reach retirement age?

  Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to let Banner show off at my expense again. Lady Elizabeth may have shown an interest in his stupid bravery, but I could act stupid too. I was actually getting better at acting stupid: attacking frigates with a handful of men, jumping into a rescue mission aboard a shuttle, and not returning to port before getting attacked. I’d say I was climbing the stupidity ranks.

  As for the rest of the crew, Flanagan was very tense in one of the seats behind the cabin, and he kept standing up and approaching us to check that we weren’t going to commit suicide in the middle of space. He walked towards us, checked the screens once more, enabled a couple of extra interfaces, and sighed in relief.

  “I’m an engineer, Flanagan,” I said. “I build these things.” And I’ve flown half of my life in simulators. How different can it be?

  “No offense meant, sir,” Flanagan said, “but building them isn’t flying them.”

  Banner looked at Flanagan’s well-worn clothes and weathered face, and showed a dislike for his appearance. His scan lasted for less than a second, but it reminded me of the way that the upper classes usually analyzed me. Hatfield had told me about their ability to judge a person based on their appearance, and he’d said that they’d never take me for one of them. Perhaps he was right; I’d never be able to judge anyone within a second.

  Though I’d have liked to pass off as rich every once in a while. It’s no fun to get so many sneers from everyone.

  “He’s doing fine, Flanagan,” Banner said curtly. “Why don’t you sit down and stop bothering the captain?”

  Captain? Since when did Banner consider me the captain? And why had he jumped in my defense?

  Flanagan grunted and sat back down.

  “First flight?” Kozinski asked him.

  Flanagan grunted back. He’d served in the Navy for more than half of his life. How could anyone think it was his first flight?

  Oh, this was Kozinski asking.

  “Shut up and stop annoying him,” York reprimanded him. “He’s in a bad mood, and I don’t want to drag you out of another fight. Got two black eyes out of your fight last month.”

  Kozinski laughed. Who, who, who. “Was a good fight. Punched Coleman straight in the gut. And lower.” Who, who, who.

  Gomez had barely seated down in the whole trip. He climbed onto his chair with his knees to look behind his backrest and started exploring the leather. “We don’t have any escape suits, do we? Like the parachutes or life vests on Earth. What happens if the shuttle breaks?” He jumped off the chair, crouched beside it, and tried to find something under the chair. “Do we just die, or do we have a back-up plan.”

  Flanagan stared at him sternly. If Gomez had been one of the powder monkeys, he’d have ended up with a warning slap on the back of his neck. He was a young gentleman and an officer, though, so only the bo’sun could hit him if the captain ordered it. Our bo’sun was dead and I wasn’t going to name a new one to make the kids cry.

  Gomez ran to the back of the shuttle. “Can we see the ships in plain sight, or do we have to run them through a filter? I like the program that turns ships red. They’re easier to spot in space. Don’t know how they do it, though. I’d love to learn. Engineers are fun.” The kid had too much energy to let anyone else talk.

  “Why don’t you tell the kid to sit down, Wood?” Banner asked me. “I didn’t mind for most of the first hour, but he’s getting on my nerves.” His hand subconsciously crept up to the electric sword on his hip.

  I didn’t care if he was right. Nobody was going to zap Gomez.

  “Gomez,” I called.

  Gomez ran to the cabin and gave me an armylike salute. He squared up and grinned proudly at me. “Midshipman Gomez ready for action, Lieutenant Wood. Captain Wood, sir.”

  Banner snorted at the kid’s lack of proper naval training. Gomez looked at him, confused, but didn’t seem affected.

  “Have you assaulted our chocolate reserves?” I asked.

  Gomez turned red and his right hand went straight to his pocket. A tell-tale sign. He hadn’t j
ust assaulted the Navy’s food supplies; he was carrying the stolen goods on him. “No, sir.” The lad even sounded innocent.

  “Hand it over to Lieutenant Banner,” I told him. “You know the penalty for stealing from the rest of the crew, and I’d rather not start a gauntlet right now. I don’t want you eating more sugar until you can act as if you hadn’t eaten any. I don’t want the crew starting a mutiny just because you can’t sit still.”

  “But sir,” he complained. “I’d taken it before the Star was attacked. And now we don’t have enough men to eat it. You wouldn’t want us to throw it away once it’s rotten, would you? It’s a crime! Think about world hunger. We wouldn’t be nice people if we didn’t eat the food we get. It’s ungrateful!”

  Did he ever shut up? Gomez always talked quickly and full of energy.

  “Hand it over, Midshipman,” Banner told him.

  Gomez complained and started digging into his pant pockets. He took out several handfuls of chocolate, and then searched under his double-breasted jacket, where he hid many more stolen chocolate bars in a hidden pocket. He finally sat on the floor, took out his boots, and emptied the chocolates onto a neat pile on the floor. The chocolates started floating without any gravity to pull them down; they didn’t have magnetized materials around them.

  He was carrying several pounds of chocolate on a short mission. How much did he plan to eat in a single day?

  “A dentist’s dream,” I said.

  Gomez was still red-faced and looking at his loot floating before him. He hesitated between offering an explanation or simply manning up to whatever consequence I sentenced him to. He was too young for the latter, so he quickly opened his over-excited eyes and said, “I don’t know where it’s all come from. I’d taken a lot less with me, you know? I haven’t eaten that much chocolate in all my life. That’s like… a mountain, isn’t it?”

  “Shut up before the acting captain orders Flanagan to cane you,” Banner told him. “He’s in an awful mood today.”

 

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