Zoya opened the wardroom door and stopped short just inside for a moment before stepping aside to let Natalya in.
The room was packed and everybody was clapping.
The new mates—a first and a third—looked a little out of place but smiled and clapped along with everybody else. Trask beamed from the head of the table and Josh Lyons whistled and stamped his feet.
A huge cake held pride of place on the wardroom table, with “Thank you! Zee and Nats!” picked out in green icing across its surface. Natalya felt a prickle at the back of her eyes and swallowed hard to try to push the lump down.
Verkol Kondur stepped out from behind the captain—clapping along with everybody else, a broad grin on his face.
Zoya had her hands clasped together in front of her lips and turned to look at Natalya, her eyes gleaming in the overhead lights.
The ovation died down eventually. “What? Why?” Zoya asked.
“You two, probably more than anybody else this voyage, brought this run to a successful conclusion.” Trask waved his hands around to encompass the officers gathered. “The whole crew decided that we owed you a big send-off.” He paused. “You haven’t changed your minds, have you?” His eyes were wide.
Zoya looked at Natalya.
Natalya swallowed again and looked around at the faces of her new friends. She didn’t trust herself to speak, but gave her head a small shake.
“Ah, well. Can’t blame a guy for asking,” Trask said. “Anyway. Thanks. I’ll miss you. We’ll all miss you.” He clapped his hands together once. “All right, then. Sappy sentimental moment over, who wants cake?”
Everybody laughed and began queuing up. They pushed Zoya and Natalya to the head of the line to accept the ceremonial first slices from the captain.
Nobody sat but Bray circulated through the room, pouring coffee and tea as he went. Everyone got their slice of cake and the wardroom felt a bit too small and too warm for Natalya. The whole exercise felt more than a little overwhelming so she stepped back to lean against the bulkhead and give herself some breathing room.
She found herself next to Kondur. He had frosting on his upper lip, which he dabbed off with a napkin. “You did well out there,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Kondur.”
“Not exactly what you expected, was it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think anybody expected that.”
Kondur’s eyebrows twitched a little and he forked another bite of cake from the plate.
“Thanks for the opportunity,” Natalya said, feeling like she needed to say something.
“Margaret Newmar hasn’t sent me a ringer yet,” he said. “It behooves me to take advantage of the people she sends.”
“Thanks.” Natalya stared at her plate. She had a hard time with praise and just wanted to get back to her packing.
“Trask has something for you, I think,” Kondur said after a moment.
Natalya looked up to find Trask crossing through the throng, a box under his arm.
“Before you get too far along in packing, you’ll want to allow space for this,” he said, thrusting the box at Natalya.
She juggled her cake and the box for a moment before Trask helped her out by taking the plate out of her hand and placing it on the table. Everybody in the room watched her and she wondered if, with any luck, the deck might open up and swallow her so they’d stop.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering what to do with it.
“Open it,” Trask said.
“What? Now?”
Trask nodded. “Of course.”
Natalya peeled back the wrapping to find a standard fleet parts box. She flipped it over and saw it contained the fuel coupling she needed to repair the Peregrine. She looked at it, confusion washing over her. She’d stashed hers in her grav-trunk, hadn’t she? An envelope fell out of the wrapping and she stooped to pick it up off the deck. The note inside held only one line.
“Always keep a spare. Charlie.”
About The Author
Nathan Lowell has been a writer for more than forty years, and first entered the literary world by podcasting his novels. His science-fiction series, Trader’s Tales From The Golden Age of the Solar Clipper, grew from his long time fascination with space opera and his own experiences shipboard in the United States Coast Guard. Unlike most works which focus on a larger-than-life hero (prophesied savior, charismatic captain, or exiled prince), Nathan centers on the people behind the scenes—ordinary men and women trying to make a living in the depths of space. In his novels, there are no bug-eyed monsters, or galactic space battles, instead he paints a richly vivid and realistic world where the “hero” uses hard work and his own innate talents to improve his station and the lives of those of his community.
Dr. Nathan Lowell holds a Ph.D. in Educational Technology with specializations in Distance Education and Instructional Design. He also holds an M.A. in Educational Technology and a BS in Business Administration with a minor in marketing. He grew up on the south coast of Maine and is strongly rooted in the maritime heritage of the sea-farer. He served in the USCG from 1970 to 1975, seeing duty aboard a cutter on hurricane patrol in the North Atlantic and at a communications station in Kodiak, Alaska.
He currently lives in the plains east of the Rocky Mountains with his wife and two daughters.
Awards for Nathan’s Books
2016 Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Independent Writer Of The Year for In Ashes Born
2011 Parsec Award Winner for Best Speculative Fiction (long form) for Owner’s Share
2011 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction (short form) for The Astonishing Amulet of Amenartas
2010 Parsec Award Winner for Best Speculative Fiction (long form) for Captain’s Share
2009 Podiobooks Founder’s Choice Award for Captain’s Share
2009 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction (long form) for Double Share
2008 Podiobooks Founder’s Choice Award for Double Share
2008 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction (long form) for Full Share
2008 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction (long form) for South Coast
Learn More At:
The Solar Clipper Diary
NathanLowell.com
Twitter: @nlowell
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