Viktoría, as I did, went along operating in the middle of the pack for the first two months of Flight School. Then, after time in a simulator, the Navy instructors put the reclusive Viktoría Freyja into a GunShip with live ammo. She destroyed the course time record, all of the targets and a few objects that weren’t in the target category. Back at the Station, it wasn’t Ensign Viktoría Freyja who climbed out of the cockpit of that GunShip, it was a Navy killer, call sign Vulcon.
Her first stop, after throwing her helmet to a surprised member of the ground crew, was in front of the class’ mouth. Every class had one. The hot shot who picked on the quiet ones, who bragged about their skills and experiences. The bully who couldn’t help but belittle a contemplative girl, who sat by herself most of the time. In front of the class and the instructors and the crewmen, Viktoría Freyja poked a long finger into his chest and said, “Beat that Sucker”, then she proudly walked back to the GunShip and did her post flight inspection of the craft.
As it turned out, it wasn’t the bully who proved to be Vulcon’s nemesis. He washed out of flight training in our fourth month. It was Surya Isha. While Viktoría Freyja was aggressive and hammered her targets, the Shark was smooth and calculating. For the rest of flight school, they traded the number one spot. From GunShips to Fighters and finally BattlePlatforms, the name at the top of the Leader Board was either Vulcon or Shark.
While I was daydreaming, Ide hauled in three new view screens. When I made a motion to get up, he gently pushed me back into the seat.
“You coordinate with the Navy guys,” he said, “I’ll let you know when I need help.”
“Shark, Vulcon, how long can you stick around?” I asked, “I need to secure the cargo sleeve and get a heading towards Nafaka. And I’m not feeling the love in this sector of space.”
“We have two Patrol Boats in bound,” Shark reported, “They should be here in twenty hours.”
I looked at Ide’s back as he mounted the last view screen. He looked over his shoulder.
“We’ll have the cargo sleeve by then,” he said turning back to his work, “Power up the screens.”
I did and a view of the exterior of the Clipper appeared. There was a nasty hole in the exterior hull and a smaller rip in the opposite side. Everything else look undamaged. The External drive would armor the damage in blue ions so they wouldn’t affect us. Over time, the weakness in the skin of the ship would twist under Internal power. But for our purposes, the Clipper was space worthy enough to reach Nafaka.
“Turn us around and let’s go get our cargo,” the engineer said, “but be careful, this isn’t a Fighter.”
“I know,” I said remembering Agdta and her directive, “Precision.”
At almost idle speed it wasn’t hard to nose the big transport around. Once we were headed back to the cargo sleeve, I asked Ide to sit in Navigation.
“Let me know the time and power for the External drive,” I said wanting to do a short External evolution before I tried it on our route to the farm planet, “Here we go.”
There was a small snap and, I know if Xhosa was on the bridge, he would have been tossed into the control panel. After he recovered his balance, I’d be reduced to bug hunting with Svana.
We evolved back to Internal drive with the sleeve just off our port side.
“Not too bad for a rookie pilot,” Ide said encouraging me, “Now we get into our tugs and stop the spinning.”
“You make it sound easy, Chief Engineer,” I replied. I was looking at the spinning cargo sleeve. First it was a solid ban then, it was a ring then, back to a sold ban. As I said, it was spinning.
“No, it’s not easy but it’s got to be done,” he said standing and heading for the hole in the bent wall, “Coming?”
My tug dropped below the belly of the Clipper and I joined up with Ide. We flew to the cargo sleeve. It was rotating end over end. The sleeve had a round front that budged into the cargo area. Further back the top extended like a half pipe that fit around the Clipper ship. The end of the sleeve where the half pipe ended was called the tail.
“She’s lower,” Ide radioed to me, “If she gets caught in the sun’s gravity the sleeve and the cargo will be gone.”
“Then, we’d better retrieve it,” I said, “What’s our plan?”
“We latch on to the tail. As it reaches a point where the end is away from the Uno Shoda, we apply power,” he instructed, “We ride it around until it reaches the same spot and apply power again.”
“So we stop it by braking its momentum,” I said.
“How do you like centrifuges?” he asked as he separated his tug from mine.
I eased to a position on a parallel course with Ide’s tug. We raced to catch up with the rising tail. As we matched speed with the ring, we attached our grappling hooks to the sleeve.
“What now?” I asked as we were taken around in a giant circle.
“We ride until it points in the correct direction,” he replied, “Then we power up to slow the spin. It should only take four or five revolutions.”
“Vulcon, do you have a location on the Sloop?” I asked. I’d been too busy to think about the Pirate’s Sloop, but now wanted to know its location.
“She’s not going to be available for questioning,” The Brick pilot replied, “Looks like I took out her engine as I passed by. Your Sloop is falling into the sun.”
“Hey J-Pop, you’re going in circles,” Shark teased from his BattlePlatform.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I replied. Ide’s tug and mine were being carried around like cars on a Ferris wheel.
“That’s Lieutenant Junior Grade Obvious to you, Ensign,” Shark said making a point. He now out ranked me.
“What about you Vulcon?” I inquired of the other Brick pilot, “Get a promotion as well?”
“Yes, Ensign J-Pop, I did,” she replied, “We all did when we got to the Fleet.”
“I guess I’m low man in the class,” I said.
“And, as always, the oldest,” Shark added. Some things never changed or ceased to be the topic of conservation at least to Shark. I believe he’s the youngest of three children and I’ve wanted to ask his oldest sibling a lot of questions. A whole lot of questions, ever since the second day of flight school.
Surya Isha when he wasn’t challenging Vulcan in destroying perfectly good targets or excelling in Navigation was picking on the classes oldest member. It started simply enough when he needed a rebreather. “Hey Pop, hand me one of those”, he’d said. So of course, the rest of the class picked up on the handle. Hey Pop this and Hey Pop that could be heard throughout the weeks until we started Fighter training. Jet is a term we use when you go full power on your Internal engine. It’s a throwback term to when propulsion was achieved by thrust from burning fuel. After I beat him on the missile range, only once to be honest, he called me Jet Pop. That night in the student lounge, he amended Jet Pop to J-Pop. And so, I’m call sign J-Pop.
Chapter 40
The third law of motion states that an object in a uniform state of motion tends to remain in motion until acted upon by an external force. Unfortunately for us, the mass of the object in motion was so much greater than our tugs and, the power output of our tugs.
It took seven revolutions to slow the mass of the cargo sleeve. Not helping was the addition of weight that introduced itself as the sleeve fell into more of the sun’s gravity. I could feel the weight. Add in traveling in circles backwards, and, all in all, it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
We had stopped the cargo sleeve’s rotation and spent two hours towing it further out from the gravity pull. Now the cargo holder was stationary and facing in the right direction. The only thing left was to back the huge Clipper ship through kilometers of space and thread its aft section into the cargo sleeve. Simple, right?
“Three degrees to port,” Ide said from the navigator’s station, “Power down and let her glide.”
We’d made the approach three times and each time, my piloting sk
ills had failed me. The aft section pivoted around the engine wall as I attempted to guide it. Instead of aiming the tail, I would move the nose of the Clipper and the ship would pivot around the axis of the ion wall. Each time, our aft section would end up pointing outside the ring of the cargo sleeve.
This time I’d given it a gentler touch. The Clipper, after being nudged, eased back into the center of the cargo sleeve. Ide jumped up and sprinted away. He’d clamp the cargo sleeve to the Uno Shoda and she’d once again be a queen of the Merchant Fleet.
“J-Pop how come you can drop out of External drive, hit a target and go External before the enemy knows your there?” Shark asked, “But you can’t place the tail end of a ship into a big ring?”
“Say Shark, if I send you the numbers can you do the evolution calculations for me?” I asked while ignoring his taunt, “Because your questions aren’t helping.”
“That would be a negative Ensign,” he replied, “It’s important for junior officers to learn how to make decisions on their own.”
I was only half teasing. The equations that Agdta performed with quick sure strokes of the keypad, were causing my brain to convulse. Somehow, between brain lock and a kaleidoscope of numbers, I figured out our course and time under External drive.
The absolute rule of Merchant Fleet was you must stick to your registered course. Any variation could cause a collision with another ship. Although the Uno Shoda was off course and behind schedule, I still had to plot a course that converged with the original. Agdta’s was a master piece of planning while mine was a cut and paste collage. It would have to suffice.
We sailed for three hours and began the arcs to change our heading. It took four to correct and once done, it took me another hour to check my calculations. Then I called the Engineer to the Bridge.
“You want the good news or the bad?” I asked Ide as he stepped onto the Bridge.
“Give me the good before you crush my world,” he replied.
“We are on the proper course,” I assured him.
“And the bad news?” he asked.
“We have to go to External drive,” I said pointing him to the pilot’s chair.
“Always figured I’d die in space,” he said as he settled into the control position, “Now’s as good a time as any.”
I called Shark and Vulcon in the BattlePlatforms and thanked them for their assistance.
“45 seconds to External evolution,” I warned Ide.
He was settled in the pilot’s seat and I was doing my best at the navigation station. His hands were hovering over the power controls.
“Power equalized,” Ide reported.
“3, 2, 1,” I said as the clocks came close to syncing up, “Power up External, now.”
The Uno Shoda stretched with one snap then another. I was holding my breath. Ide’s attention was fixated on the view screens as if he could hold the ship together with his mind. Finally, the Clipper ship smoothed out and a blue ion flow covered the view screens.
Chapter 41
A week later we went to Internal drive. The ship was intact and I’d only caused a little structural damage with a two snap evolution. We were at the final adjustment point. I scanned and found the planet Nafaka.
“Better send a report to plant Station,” Ide suggested.
“You’re in the Merchant Fleet,” I said, “Shouldn’t you send the message?”
“Phelan, the Fleet has specific rules. Only the Captain can send an official communique,” Ide stated, “Right now that’s you. You work on the message while I’m going to get a fix on plant Station.”
‘Flash message to Merchant Fleet and Naval Liaison for plant Station. Clipper ship Uno Shoda is approximately five days from Station. The Crew status is Captain Xhosa and Navigator Hernan, injured but stable. First Officer Bha deceased. Ship is functioning but in need of repairs. Cargo sleeve is secure and all cargo is as listed.’
I signed it, Acting Captain Piran, Ensign CG Navy, and sent it off.
“The course is laid in,” Ide reported, “Are you ready.”
“You did the calculations?” I asked in surprise.
“Sure, you don’t think they wanted me on the Bridge for my good looks?” the Engineer said with a grin.
“Then why didn’t you do them before?” I asked in astonishment.
“What and ruin your adventure?” he replied, “Let’s get my ship to port. She needs some tender loving care. Stand by to equalize power and clocks.”
“Aye, Chief Engineer,” I said, “Standing by.”
The Uno Shoda evolved to Internal drive about 5 hours from the plant Station. Ide had done some quality math to get us this close. I could see the brown, blue and green of the planet Nafaka far below. From this distance, there were no cities visible. I figured I’d find out about the commercial centers once I reported to the 49th Air Wing.
A gray, boxy Station came up over the curvature of Nafaka. It was a large structure and seemed even bigger due to the cargo sleeves in orbit around it.
“That must be the plant Station,” I ventured.
“No Phelan, that’s the protein Station,” he replied, “They collect and process animal protein from Nafaka.”
“I’d like to see that operation,” I said watching the Station rise higher above the planet.
“Not going to happen,” he said shaking his head, “The Clan who runs it doesn’t allow male visitors.”
“So there are no men on the protein Station?” I asked.
“Oh sure there are,” Ide said with a strange look on his face, “Husbands and sons. It’s a matriarchal society.”
“It’s totally run by the women of the Clan?” I asked, “Have you ever met any of them?”
“Sure on the plant Station,” he said now smiling and looking thoughtful, “Shuttle and tug pilots and a few when they come to the plant Station for parties.”
“Parties?”
“Sure they have daughters but not a lot of single men,” he said and the smile had grown to cover his entire face.
The contrast between the protein Station and the plant Station, when it rose, was dramatic. While one was almost solemn with the empty hulls of cargo sleeves floating around the main structure, the plant Station was festive with Shuttles, Sloops, Clippers and Navy Patrol Boats buzzing about. Even the well-organized cargo sleeves had a swarms of tugs dodging in and out of the gaps between them.
“It’s a busy place,” I observed.
“Busiest port in the Realm,” Ide said, “It you don’t count the Navy Yard off of planet Dos.”
We were directed to a holding sector of space to await a pilot. The port of call was so crowded the Merchant Fleet required a master pilot to navigate the shipping lanes around the plant Station.
“Good eating here,” Ide stated.
“Better than the hydroxyl Station?” I asked, “The chew there was fabulous.”
“Yes it was excellent,” He explained, “but it wasn’t fresh. Here its fresh vegetables, fresh fruit and fresh grains, not to mention the fresh meats from the protein Station. All freshly harvested from the planet Nafaka.”
“Have you ever been down on the planet?” I asked hoping for a little information on my next duty station.
“Haven’t had the pleasure and wouldn’t if I was invited,” the Chief Engineer stated, “I’m a Clipper ship man.”
The master pilot and a navigator arrived followed by a medical shuttle. Xhosa and Agdta were taken off the ship. Once they were off, we were joined by a coroner from the Merchant Fleet. We helped take Kala’s body to that sad boat. Ide and I were next. A Shuttle came specifically for us and I relaxed as our pilot threaded his way around the fleet of ships and boats.
On the dock of plant Station, we were met by a Merchant Fleet official. I could tell he was important as the crew on the dock scattered when he appeared. Also, he had the piping of a civilian Commodore on his shoulder. Short and round with an air of impatience, the man didn’t look like he’d spent much time in space
. He was the classic desk commander.
“Captain Piran,” he said shaking my hand, “I want to thank you personally for bringing our ship and cargo to port safely.”
“Well, Sir, your Chief Engineer Ide was,” I began, but Ide interrupted me.
“No Sir, Captain Piran was the one who took over,” Ide said hurriedly, “He not only piloted the arcs and evolutions but he did the navigation to boot.”
“Now that’s impressive, Captain,” the official said, ‘How long will you be staying with us?”
“There must be some mistake,” I said, “I’m stationed on Nafaka with the 49th Air Wing. But to answer your question, I’ll be here at least two years.”
The man blushed and mumbled something.
“Ah well, welcome to plant Station,” he stammered, “I must be off.”
He turned and strutted towards the entrance to the Station. Like a closing wake, the dock crews reappeared behind the little man as he pounded across the deck.
“Just what, Ide, was that?” I asked.
“He didn’t read your full report,” Ide said laughing, “He thought you were a Merchant Fleet Captain or a First Officer or at least a Navigator. Oops, there goes the Merchant Fleet regulations out the air lock.”
We parted there with Ide still laughing. He was off to report to the ship repair office and I needed to let the Navy know I was on board. Although I still had a few days left before I had to report in, I wanted to get started on my duties with the Air Wing. The Officer training must have brainwashed me because, no Marine NCO would deny himself extra leave time. Maybe I was becoming a real Officer and a gentleman recognizable to the Galactic Council. Or maybe, I was delusional.
Chapter 42
“You are just an Ensign,” Admiral Gesina pointed out to me, “By what right do you assume command of a Clipper ship, issue orders to BattlePlatform pilots, who by the way, out rank you, and leave a sector after a deadly encounter?”
Galactic Council Realm 1: On Station Page 22