Scout Force

by Rodney Smith

They ate while gazing at the scenery. When everything had been cleaned and cooled down, they packed the rest of the gear away. Reluctantly, they climbed into the air car and headed back to base. Candy let him off near the dry dock holding the Vigilant.

  She helped him get his duffle out of the trunk and gave him a big hug and a kiss.

  “I suppose I’ll have to wait my turn with all your other girlfriends now before I can see you again.”

  Kelly chuckled, “I guess so. I have no experience in how this all works. Why don’t we just play it by ear? You aren’t going to get jealous on me, are you?”

  “Jealous, no. I don’t think that will happen. Let’s just see how things work out. I’ll still be living with my folks for the next three months until the house is built. As much as my Dad likes you, I don’t think we could be very intimate at his quarters.”

  Candy climbed back into the air car. Kelly leaned in and kissed her goodbye.

  “Don’t worry Candy. I’ll be able to find time for you.”

  She looked up, grinned, and said, “Of course you will,” and drove off.

  Chapter Ten

  Kelly spent the next week inspecting the ship from bow to stern and running damage control drills. LCDR Timmons trusted the Blakes' invention, but wanted to be sure that the crew could react to any emergency if something went wrong. Kelly traced every fluid pipe, electrical conduit, and data cable on the ship.

  Everything was in top shape. The yard crew finished installing and testing the new larger electron guns. Chief Miller gave them his seal of approval and the captain authorized the ship to be moved from dry dock to a regular parking apron. The Vigilant sat down next to where the 68th fighters were parked. Angie came over immediately. The quarterdeck called Kelly and let him know she was waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp.

  Kelly went out to meet her. As it was coming on lunchtime, he went to the dining facility with her.

  As they walked, Angie said, “Do you have any plans for this weekend?”

  “No, I’ve got duty on Sunday, but Saturday evening and Lunaday are free.”

  “Great. I feel the need to cook something and you are invited over for dinner Lunaday evening.”

  “What are we having?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m going over to the base commissary tonight and pick up some things. Why don’t you come over about 1800 on Saturday and bring some wine?”

  “Great, I’ll bring red and white so I’ll be prepared no matter what you fix.”

  They entered the dining facility, chose their food, and sat down.

  Angie took a few bites and asked, “So, how is life in Scout Force? The scuttlebutt says you have done some pretty amazing stuff. I hear you’ve even done some space walks. What was that like?”

  Well I can’t talk specifics, but it was pretty gruesome. The space walk part was fun, but what we were out there for wasn’t.”

  I also heard about your combat in the Scutum sector. I understand you’re up for another Space Medal.”

  “No, not the Space Medal. Something less I think. The captain is up for the Space Medal, though. Tell me about the 68th’s exploits after I left.”

  “We continued to patrol along the frontier. We didn’t have any more action like when you ran afoul of Old Bugger Off. We could tell the K’Rang were shadowing us from across the frontier. The Bolivar’s escort ships’ sensors would sometimes pick up concentrations of capital ships at long range. Their frigate class ships would come in so close at times that even our fighter’s sensors could pick them up. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a K’Rang frigate show up on your scope. Those things are scary looking.”

  “I can imagine. We ran into a torpedo ship in the Scutum engagement and it was bad enough.”

  “A torpedo ship, what was that like?”

  “It was a bit larger than the Vigilant and had a couple of pulse cannons. The bad thing were the torpedoes. They were a little larger than a fighter and employed active and passive homing. The passive homing system locks on the ion discharge from the engines. We were in dry dock earlier applying a fix to reduce the ion discharge to almost nothing.”

  “Exhaust homing torpedoes, that sounds bad. What can be done about the larger ships’ emissions?”

  “Admiral Craddock sent a technical report out to Fleet and the techies are looking at how to reduce the exhaust trail for the capital ships. Some will require a stop in a space dock. Some will merely need to tune their electron guns. I personally think the K’Rang screwed up by using the torpedo on us. They gave away a significant tactical advantage they could have used in a major space battle some day.”

  “I’m glad you came through it okay.”

  They finished lunch and Angie walked him back to the Vigilant. At the ramp she asked, “LTC Matthews asked me to offer you a chance to go up in a fighter. Would you be interested? We have an F-53B, trainer version with us. He can’t let you go up by yourself, but I could fly rear seat for you and let you have the controls.”

  Kelly replied, “Tell LTC Matthews that I would like that a lot.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him. We can work out a time for you to go up.”

  Kelly said goodbye and went up the ramp into the Vigilant. The thought of flying a fighter again put an extra bounce in his step. Maybe it would help him get through the next few days of running drills.

  The captain met him at the top of the ramp. He motioned Kelly over.

  “I just got word from Scout Force HQ. Our decorations have come through. The ship is getting a Fleet Meritorious commendation. You got a Silver Galaxy. I got a Gold Galaxy. The chiefs all got Space Medals. The crew will get a mix of Meritorious Service Medals and Galactic Republic Defense Medals. Not too shabby. There will be an awards ceremony on Friday. Chief Watson is already setting it up with HQ.”

  “That’s great, sir. That’s a lot more than I expected. Has there been any word on when the test will take place?”

  “Not yet. The ring won’t be here for another week and then there is the calibration and testing to be done. It will be a while yet. I want to test the new engine modification while we wait. We’ll go up next Tuesday, measure the engine signature, run some drills for a couple of days and be back in time for the weekend.”

  “Sounds good to me, Captain. I’ll get our requisitions ready for the flight. Oh, by the way, sir, LTC Matthews has offered up an opportunity for me to take their trainer up for a flight. If that’s all right with you, of course.”

  ”Once a fighter pilot, always a fighter pilot. Of course it’s all right. Just work it out with the duty roster.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  The captain returned to his paperwork and Kelly got back to tracing circuits. Damage control drill was set for 1400 and he had a few more circuits to trace before then. He thought about his Silver Galaxy. Between what he already had, the New Amsterdam awards, and this he was up to two full rows of ribbons. His dress uniform would look pretty impressive. His dress mess uniform would look even more so, especially with the gaudy New Amsterdam medals.

  The rest of the week passed uneventfully. The awards ceremony on Friday went like clockwork, thanks to Chief Watson’s organizational skills. On Saturday evening, Kelly bought some wine, and went to Angie’s quarters at the BOQ. He arrived exactly at 1800 and she wasn’t in. He waited a bit, was about to leave and check with her unit, when she arrived wearing her flight suit. She was a little flushed as she opened the door and ushered him in. He was met with the smell of something cooking with a bit of garlic and some spices he didn’t recognize.

  As she unzipped and shucked out of her flight suit down to her skivvies, she said, “I forgot something and had to run to the commissary to get it. Give me a minute to change and get freshened up. I’m running a bit behind schedule. Sit. Relax.”

  Kelly watched her walk into the bedroom and admired the view from the rear. He walked over to the kitchen to see what was cooking.

  A voice came from the back, saying not to mess with the f
ood.

  Kelly looked over the pots and pans simmering on the stove. One pan had what looked to be steaks simmering in a golden sauce. One pot had fresh green beans in a cream sauce, of some kind. The last pot was potatoes in a butter sauce. Kelly never knew Angie could cook, but everything looked and smelled marvelous. He looked through the window of the oven and saw rolls browning up.

  He heard the door open behind him, he turned around, and his jaw dropped. Angie was standing there in a body hugging black minidress. It was cut low in front, showing off wonderful cleavage. Her hair was done up on her head. She wore black stockings and high-heel pumps. She was beautiful. She walked over into his arms and he leaned down to kiss her. She smelled like tropical flowers.

  “Why, Miss Shappelle, you are gorgeous.”

  “Thank you, sir. I felt like being a woman tonight, not just an officer.”

  “Woman is a good look for you. It looks really nice on you, much nicer than it would on me.”

  “I should hope so,” she said laughing, twisting out of his arms, “Hand me that apron over there.”

  She tied a chef’s apron around her neck and waist and tended to the stove.

  ‘What type of wine did you bring?”

  “I brought three local wines. I brought a Vidal Blanc, a Cabernet Franc, and a Rosé.”

  “Yummy, open up the Cab Franc and let it breathe. Put the other two in the cooler.”

  Kelly popped the cork on the red and put the other two away. He searched the cabinets for wine glasses and found two mismatched cocktail glasses. They would do. Angie handed him plates and silverware and told him to set the table. He cleared off the small table and set it up for dinner.

  Angie looked at the table, looked at the stove, and said, “I’ve changed my mind. That table is too small for all the dishes. Bring the plates over here and we’ll eat buffet style.”

  Kelly picked up the plates and set one on the countertop and one on the empty burner on the stove. Angie pulled the rolls out of the oven, put one each on the plates, and then handed a plate to Kelly.

  She picked up a steak from the pan and put it on Kelly’s plate, put another on her plate, then ladled out sauce onto each steak. Next came a serving of green beans and sauce. Finally, she put half the potatoes on each plate. Kelly put both plates on the table and poured two glasses of wine. Kelly then helped Angie off with her apron and they sat down.

  The meal was even better than his earlier recon had suggested. The steak was tender, the herbal mushroom sauce expertly setting off the flavor. The green beans and potatoes were equally delicious.

  Kelly smacked his lips and said, “Angie, I never had any idea you were such a good cook. This is magnificent.”

  “Thank you. I never had the opportunity to cook on the Bolivar. This is the first time since flight school that I’ve been able to really cook. I love to cook.”

  “Good looks, great cook, what more could a person hope for? And a fighter pilot, too.”

  Angie gave him a mock irritated look and said, “Kelly, shut up and eat.”

  Kelly replied, “Yes, ma'am,” and finished his meal.

  After dinner, Kelly helped Angie with the dishes. She washed. He dried. They put the dishes away and retired with the wine to the couch.

  Kelly looked in Angie's eyes, smiled, and said, “Angie, that is the best meal I have had in a long time. My folks have a gourmet chef and he doesn’t cook this well.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’d love to meet your folks’ chef and trade recipes.”

  “I can arrange for you to meet Arnold one of these days. I’ll call my folks and get us invited for dinner.”

  “That would be nice. How about some more wine here?”

  Kelly looked at the bottle and there wasn’t much left. “How about we switch to the Rosé. This one is about done. Give me your glass and I’ll rinse it out while I get the other bottle.”

  Angie handed him her glass and Kelly got up to open the Rosé. He rinsed the glasses, dried them, and brought them back. He poured her glass and handed it to her. Then he filled his own and set the bottle aside.

  He raised his glass and said, “To a wonderful meal and wonderful companionship.” He clinked her glass and took a sip.

  Angie smiled, took another sip, set her glass down, and leaned forward to kiss him. Kelly put his glass down and received her into his arms. Kelly had seen Angie working out in the gym on the Bolivar. He knew her body was toned and hard, but she felt mighty soft in his arms. He kissed her again.

  The next morning, Kelly woke up on his back with Angie’s right leg over his left leg. Her right hand held his left. When he stirred, she rolled over into him with her left leg over his right. Her head lay on his chest and her arm across his waist. It felt so good, he decided to lay there for a while before getting up. He had nowhere to go today and no schedule to meet. He dropped back off to sleep.

  Angie got up first. Kelly woke up a little later, noticed she wasn’t there, and got up. He looked out of the bedroom and saw Angie wearing a short silk robe, gathering items from the refrigerator. He noted, from his angle, how short the robe was. He especially appreciated the view.

  “What’s for breakfast?”

  Angie looked around at him without straightening up. “How does eggs and sausage sound?”

  “It sounds pretty good. Do you mind if I distract the cook first?”

  Angie put the food over on the counter and came over into Kelly’s arms, “Oh, I wish you would.”

  Kelly and Angie retreated into the bedroom and breakfast was delayed.

  Later, Angie accompanied Kelly to the Vigilant for a change of clothes. Then they wandered around base, shopping, and sampling the offerings at the entertainment center. Kelly called his folks and asked Angie and him over for dinner. His parents were very gracious and looked forward to dining with Angie.

  Dinner was preceded by several bottles of wine. The Blakes had acquired quite a cellar of local Armstrong wines. Arnold was outdoing himself by preparing vegetable soup, beef bourguignon, fresh asparagus, and a local green called moisache, similar to spinach in consistency, but tasting more like turnip greens. Angie helped him with the meal and the two chatted incessantly about recipes and cooking techniques. Kelly retired to the patio with his parents.

  Andrew refilled his glass and said, “She’s nice. Arnold is having the time of his life. Your mother and I are hopeless in the kitchen. When we are working, we hardly ever think of food. Most of the time he has to chase us down to get us to eat something. It’s good for him to have someone to cook with.”

  “Angie can hold her own in the kitchen. She had me over for dinner last night and she is a wizard with sauces. She could probably teach Arnold a thing or two.”

  His dad took a sip of wine and said, “Tell me, son, how is your crew reacting to the upcoming test?”

  “They are taking it well. There are a few that are a little worried. Most are looking forward to it. They see the potential for really expanding travel and commerce in GR space. We’ve got people from all over GR space in the Scout Force and they don’t get to see their families very often, if at all. Travel to even the closest planets can take more than a week. Some people haven’t seen their families since they joined the Fleet.”

  Andrew beamed, “Well, that’s what we’ve been working for. We see the trade and travel potential, as well as the defensive advantage.”

  “Dad, speaking of defensive potential, have you considered making mobile transporter rings?”

  “What do you mean, son?”

  “In your demonstration the other day, it dawned on me that if you could construct a ship that was, essentially, a flying transporter ring, we could significantly reduce our fleet patrol requirements. Imagine a patrol craft that could open up to be a full-sized transporter ring. It would give us mobile rings that could serve as the entry point for battle groups into trouble spots. We could use smaller patrol groups to watch the frontier and only bring the capital ships in when really needed.”r />
  “I think I see what you mean. You mean a patrol-size ship that could open up into a full-size transporter ring if it needed reinforcement. Something the size of the Vigilant would be too small. We might could do it with something the size of a frigate. I’ll look into that. How do you think the Fleet will react to the idea?”

  Kelly put his wine glass down and said, “It costs a fortune to keep battle groups out on the frontier. Something like this would allow them to maintain a presence for a fraction of the cost. Besides, once the K’Rang catch onto the fact that we can be strong almost anywhere along the frontier, it should calm them down a bit. It will give us an operational and strategic advantage they can’t overcome.”

  Moira said, “It would be an odd looking ship, but it could be done. It would need escorts for protection, because the ring mechanism would take up most of the ship. Why don’t we talk to Tom on Monday and see what he thinks?”

  A small gong sounded, signifying that dinner was served. The Blakes went into the dining room. Arnold was gushing with excitement over Angie’s assistance in the kitchen. With a special flourish, he held her chair for her as she sat down.

  Arnold chastised Kelly, “You didn’t tell me your lady friend was a saucier. A fighter pilot and a gourmet cook–who would have imagined?”

  Angie blushed at the attention. She said, “Oh Arnold, I’m not that good.”

  “Oh, yes, you are. If you ever get tired of being a fighter pilot, you could have a position at a major restaurant.”

  “It’s good to know I have something to fall back on if I ever lose my edge.”

  Arnold brought out the soup course. It was marvelous. Angie had contributed the hollandaise sauce for the asparagus and an almond cream sauce for the moisache. They made a great meal even better.

  When all had their fill, Arnold shooed them out of the dining room and cleaned up. Kelly escorted Angie out to the patio for after dinner wine.

  Angie sipped her wine and said, “It was so good of you to have me over for dinner.”

  “Nonsense, it was worth it just to see Arnold enjoy himself as much as he did.”