Across Our Stars: Victor

by A. Payne

  “Bloody hell.”

  “I suppose it’s safe to assume you did not see anything of this sort on base,” Oshiro commented.

  Victor slowly turned his head to regard the older doctor, his eyes large. “No. I expected the usual from Ethan. Back where they stationed me in Valencia, the lead medical officer decided voice-assisted surgery was an unnecessary expense.”

  “It is, but when your transfer was approved a month ago, Ethan decided an upgrade was in order. He’s truly happy to have you aboard and so am I.” Oshiro placed his hand on Victor’s shoulder and gazed up at him with an encouraging smile. “You look better than you did eleven months ago. How are you feeling about this change?”

  “Better. It’s… good to be among old friends again.” Oshiro’s fatherly presence warmed him, and he looked forward to working beneath his mentor as an officer for the first time.

  The older medical officer gestured to a second door. Oshiro followed sedately while Victor investigated ahead into the next room, where the walls traded canary paint for varying shades of cream and taupe. Flowering shrubs grew outside his small view-port, and they swayed in the fan-generated breeze.

  “All of our examination and operating rooms look into the bio-farm. But those out there cannot see inside, of course. The privacy of your patients is assured.”

  “Good to know. I’ve never had an office this large.” Victor dropped into the swivel chair behind the desk and slid his hand over the glossy surface. The computerized system reacted to his touch and projected the holographic keyboard for his use. He logged in and out easily with his credentials. Ethan moved quickly.

  “Enjoy your breakfast with Ethan tomorrow then come join us when he releases you. Until then, I suggest you take some time to get acquainted with the ship. Kathleen is probably anxious to show you to your quarters.”

  Victor sighed.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Victor, but I believe you’ll be pleasantly surprised about Doctor Hart. She has no designs on you,” Oshiro said in patient tones.

  “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Victor mumbled.

  Kathleen practically attached to him like a burr from the moment he appeared back in the hall.

  “I’m so bloody chuffed to have another actual adult in medical. You don’t know how much of a relief it is to have you among us, Victor. So, what are you like?”

  “Excuse me?” he asked her in confusion.

  “Tell me something about yourself. Doc’s kept his mouth shut tight and wouldn’t utter a single word about you for good or ill.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. What do you mean about having another adult in medical though? Aren’t we all adults?”

  “I suppose so. Lilibeth arrived about two months ago from Sargossa. She’s some sort of bleedin’ prodigy, I guess you’d call her. Only twenty.”

  “That’s young,” he commented, maintaining his careful neutrality.

  “Aye, it is. She’s a sweet enough girl, but she’s a touch on the paranoid side.” Hart led him up a winding staircase, destined for the Officers’ Deck. He quietly noted the landmarks along the way, as well as the curious faces of observing marines.

  “We’ll have a full complement of Royal Marines onboard,” Kathleen explained quietly. “That’s only the first bunch. Last group is due to arrive at our next stop. This level here is where you’ll find the crew lounges and the enlisted mess hall. You’re free to eat there too if you want. I recommend the nights when pasta is on the menu, otherwise you’ll regret it.”

  “Excellent. Bishop mentioned there were plans to receive a few more crewmen aboard the ship.”

  “There are. Plenty of splicers for me and cyborgs for you. All right, the Wardroom is that way and staterooms form a horseshoe around it. The food’s not bad and fried chicken night is always the busiest. Starboard side is where you’ll find the CO, XO, and distinguished visitor suites. Port side is the rest of us. We’re about halfway down.”

  “Thanks for the walk up, Doc–”

  “Kathleen’s fine, or Hart. We’re all going to be good chums, so I’m all for canning the unnecessary formality if you’re that sort. You seem that sort, at least.” Something about Hart’s friendly smile encouraged him to do the same. In spite of his worries, he grinned at her and cast aside his fears.

  “That’s because I am that sort.” Victor grinned. “Astute observation.”

  “Anyway, I s’pose we’ll all talk in the morning. Enjoy your new digs.” And without so much as a flirtatious glance, Kathleen Hart turned and jogged away. Victor stared after her retreating shape in absolute bewilderment. No coy smiles or veiled flirtation. Oshiro’s kind words had proved true.

  Upon reaching his assigned bunk, the locking mechanism responded to his thumbprint, granted him clearance, and slid open. The hydraulic door closed behind him again, granting privacy. At last.

  A blank canvas awaited him, waiting to be personalized. Sterile walls and a cozy room held no ornamentation. Crisp, white sheets wrapped a double-sized mattress tucked into a headboard with a shelf. An oval viewport overlooked the upper reaches of the bio-farm, displaying leafy treetops that swayed in the park’s generated breeze. Compared to the enlisted berths, it was practically a mansion.

  Victor found his belongings lined up neatly beside the small desk, which meant everything checked out all right in the scans. The Royal Alliance took their security protocols seriously, but they could behave in a heavy-handed manner from time to time. Back on his old ship, dozens of crewmen pleaded with the commanding officer to take the security personnel aside for a chat. It all came to a head when their rough handling resulted in the loss of 500 quid of kinky goods belonging to a girl who hosted Midnight Desires passion parties during her deployments.

  It took less time to unpack his uniforms and personal clothing than it did to set up his data terminal’s rig. Victor didn’t own a lot of clothing. With minimal possessions to unload from his luggage, he powered on the computer rig and flopped down on the bed. It finally set in. He had a new home and new patients. On his old ship, he’d known the name of everyone wearing cybernetics.

  I can’t screw this opportunity up. Everything on the Glenn and afterward needs to stay in the past where it belongs. Ethan put his neck on the line to get me here, and I want to repay him. No, I need to repay him for all he’s done, he thought fiercely. Nothing would ruin his fresh start. He’d never let another woman close to his heart again.

  Victor automatically reached for a nearby box of packaged pastries, but a noisy beep from the terminal drew his attention to the glowing screen. “New message from Ethan Bishop,” Jem’s sexy voice announced.

  “Release message, Jem.”

  “Evenin’, mate. I figured you were going to do your usual antisocial routine, and thought I’d check in on you. Everything all right? What do you think of your new lab? I’d say give me a ring, but I’m planning to check into a virtual game for a short while before bed. If I know you well, you’re stuffing your gob with sweet cakes and glued to the Telenova.” Bishop paused. “I’m right or at least close, aren’t I? Anyway, it’s a pleasure to have you aboard my ship. Now go out there and meet some of the crew. That’s an order.”

  Guess I better go socialize then.

  Victor set down the sweet roll and ventured reluctantly from his room. It didn’t take long to become lost when the sterile passageways all looked the same. “Ship map.”

  Pinprick beams of light immediately projected from walls to his left and right, creating a holographic display of the ship’s multiple levels. Victor’s position showed up as a green blip.

  “Identify officers’ mess.”

  The display zoomed in, revealing the corridor of his current whereabouts. A dashed line in blue directed him to head left down the passage and right at the second junction to the Wardroom. The distance was conveniently close without being so near that the smell of cooking food would flood his room. He’d already had a bunk like that before on his old ship, and he�
�d quickly tired of smelling boiled vegetables and overcooked meats during all hours of the day.

  All eyes turned his way when he stepped through the door. Victor fell under the scrutiny of at least fifteen of his fellow officers. The others didn’t seem to care. He made shy progress to a lone table where he sat and avoided making eye contact.

  Should I have taken an empty seat at someone’s table? Hey, I’m Victor, great to be here? He fretted until the holographic menu blinked to draw his attention. That only provoked him to blindly press one of the entree options without reading the choices. It promptly vanished.

  A stocky officer with closely trimmed black hair crossed over to stand near Victor. It seemed likely that too deep of a breath would burst his uniform seams. “Commander, welcome. You the new Operations officer?” He had an easygoing voice, lacking the formality associated with residents of Albion like Ethan. The central planet of the United Empire held on to many of its old British ways, including accents.

  “Actually, no. I’m Doctor del Toro,” Victor politely corrected him. His gaze fell on the man’s rank insignia and then dropped to his nametag. Commander Daniels. He mentally filed the name and face away. “I’m the new cyberneticist in medical.”

  “Ohhhh, right. I saw the CO giving you the tour earlier. Didn’t get a good look at you then. Good. When old Doctor Price retired, they left us high and dry. I wondered how long it would take to get a replacement.”

  “Your CO stole me from the Valencia base. I’m as glad to be here as you are to receive me,” Victor joked.

  “Greyson Daniels, by the way. I run the Combat Department. Mind if I sit here?”

  Before Victor could give an answer, the other commander helped himself to an empty seat at the table. Wary of coming off as antisocial, Victor put on a smile and merely nodded his head. Only a moment ago, he’d contemplated joining the other officers.

  “You don’t really have the Paradisian accent.”

  “Yeah. About that, mate, I only transferred in about a year ago. I was raised on Albion during my teen years,” Victor explained.

  It doesn’t hurt to try to make friends on a new ship. I can do this. The words became his mantra, repeated over and over in his own head until he began to believe it was true. “What do you think of this ship? This is my first time on one so large.”

  “As far as ships go, the Jemison isn’t so bad. Namesake is kinda more prestigious than the crew, but you can’t win ‘em all.” Daniels shrugged.

  “Jemison was a female astronaut right? I’m a little rusty on my Earth History.”

  “Something like that, yeah. First woman of my ethnicity in space. But hey, it’s just a name. The ship is good. Top-notch facilities. Some of the crew needs whipping up, but that’s my job.” Daniels grinned, flashing white teeth.

  “Guess that means I should expect a high visitation rate in medical? I’m not used to having a lot of work.” He looked forward to the change. On one hand, he didn’t like to see his fellow servicemen suffering in pain. On the other, he loathed sitting by idly in an office.

  “Heard they’re sending us a bunch of hybrids and mechies. That’ll keep your hands full right there.”

  Hybrids described the human beings carrying genes with the DNA of select animals from Old Earth and newly discovered planets. The procedure gifted them with enhanced abilities such as speed, eyesight, and even intricate natural camouflage.

  “Cyborgs dislike the term mechie. It pisses them off,” Victor told him politely.

  “You’d know.” Greyson flashed his grin again. A blonde sergeant arrived with their trays before Victor could snap out an irritated reply. The young woman shamelessly roved her eyes over Victor and set each meal in place.

  “Thanks,” he muttered. He didn’t make eye contact with her again, wise enough to realize what was happening at his new ship assignment. Nothing ever changed. It left a sour taste in his mouth that his meal did little to absolve.

  “Good choice, Doctor. That one’s the leading rank-tagger around here.”

  The filthy term twisted his stomach. With his appetite damaged by the rising nausea, he had to force down bites of mashed potatoes to stall his response. It worked until he stole a glance at Daniels to see him hanging on anxiously. “Yeah? Every ship’s got to have one, I guess.” He didn’t particularly want to become a notch on anyone’s figurative bedpost.

  “The Jemison has her fair share.”

  “Know it from experience, Daniels?”

  The man smirked. “I don’t kiss and tell, but there’s plenty who do. Besides, nothing in the rules against mingling. Heard it was back in the olden days.”

  The tension wavered and diminished, disintegrating with each bite of food and forced sip of water. Calm, Vic. You’ve talked to worse twats than this guy. “As long as they don’t bring it to medical. You don’t want know how many requests I have received to perform gyno services since my licensure. It isn’t even my field.” He gulped down the water that accompanied the meal and took a quick glance at his watch.

  “Ha! I’ll just bet.”

  “Anyway, thanks for the lowdown of the ship. Guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He always saw the combat department guys in medical eventually. They had a tendency to hurt themselves after taking their training beyond safe limits.

  “Nice chatting with you, Doctor.”

  Victor couldn’t get out of the Wardroom quickly enough. He retraced his steps back to his room and shut the door firmly behind him when he saw a female officer approaching to greet him. “Activate sleep setting.”

  The room darkened appropriately, while a pale silver crescent moon symbol glowed on the corridor side of the door. It notified other crewmen that a room’s occupant desired privacy. Victor only used it to indicate he planned to rest.

  After a shower, he crawled beneath the cool sheets and fell into an untroubled, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 2

  Bright lights activated across the training room’s ceiling. Intermittent blips of light glowed from holograph apertures scattered around the expansive room.

  “Is this honestly necessary?” Victor asked. “It’s only my second day aboard the ship and I’ve been in medical all day.”

  “I know, but I can’t send you out into the field without verifying that you’re not soggy around the middle, mate,” Ethan replied.

  “Soggy?” Victor patted his flat abdomen. “You wish you looked as good as me.”

  “Put your money where your mouth is, Victor. Don’t tell me you’re scared. I do this with all my officers. Lieutenant Shahid Amir holds the speed record for the course.”

  “Haven’t met him.”

  “Her,” Ethan corrected. “Intel. Nice Astreyan girl, pretty too. You’d like her.”

  “Ethan.”

  “All right, all right. I was only saying. Besides, she’s seeing some bloke in Navigation now I think. So that ship has sail–”

  “Ethan.”

  “Sorry. Are you ready?”

  Despite his friend’s good intentions, Victor held no illusions about involving a woman in his future on the Jemison. He wanted to work. Romantic entanglements, no matter how casual, weren’t in the cards.

  “I’m ready.”

  Ethan tapped in the final sequence and the empty chamber immediately morphed into a full military training course. Cubes, ramps, stairways, and ladders rose from the floor and slid from the walls and then a holographic overlay gave them the appearance of a mountainous stronghold. A synthetic sun blazed overhead, with lights so intense that sweat beaded on Victor’s brow.

  “You don’t do anything half-arsed do you, Ethan?”

  “Nope.”

  A buzzer activated and they took off at a sprint down the room’s length. Victor’s longer stride gave him an advantage over his heavier friend.

  Victor reached the first station ahead of Ethan. A series of human silhouettes popped up behind various obstructions and opened fire on the pair. Bright red paint splattered against his side, ac
companied by a sharp, breath-stealing punch in the ribs. The painful rubber bullets within the paint capsules reminded their marines that errors came with a price.

  “Five second penalty,” Ethan whooped, ducking past him. The stocky man aimed his training pistol and fired at the programmed assailant.

  How did a man in his fifties move so quickly? Victor swore under his breath, loathing Ethan a little more with every step.

  While Ethan fired on instinct, Victor lined up accurate, incapacitating shots at the cost of speed. They raced through the obstacle course and were pitted against one hazard after another, from droids that assaulted them in hand-to-hand combat to automated turret guns that attempted to mow them down with a hail of agonizing but non-lethal rounds.

  Holographic projections paired with physical components created a realistic scenario without live opponents. Victor blocked the merciless, rapid fire assault from a four-armed mech, staving off punishing strikes aimed at his face and upper torso.

  “You dancing or fighting?” Ethan taunted from fifteen feet above him.

  Just cause you’re built like a tank… Victor blocked a hit with his left arm and struck with his right. A green flash cleared him to continue forward. Ethan had moved ahead of him, and he clung precariously to a wall designed to utilize as few handholds as possible. He didn’t use a harness. Not to be outdone, Victor ignored the climbing rig and hurried up the rocky surface.

  Victor gained better time on the thirty foot wall, and they were practically neck and neck when they each heaved over the edge. Unfortunately, Ethan was up on his feet first. Exhausted, soaked to his undergarments, and absolutely yearning for a moment of floor time sprawled on his back, Victor raced against the ship’s commanding officer and pushed his body to the limit. His lungs burned for air as his booted feet pounded the ground for the finish line. Ethan crossed the line two feet ahead of him, and then they both practically collapsed to the ground. Both men bent forward at the waist, brows sweaty and chests heaving. Victor recovered first and passed his friend a water bottle.