by Rodney Smith
Tammy looked sternly at him, with one breast partially peeking out past the edge of her apron, and said, “Okay, okay, if you can’t tell us, we understand.”
Kelly threw up his hands and gave up.
The next morning a very tired, hung over, but happy Kelly woke up to Candy and Tammy giggling from the doorway to his room.
“Come on sleepy head, the pool’s waiting.”
Kelly said he’d be right with them, as soon as he could find his feet. It made for a very enjoyable week.
Chapter Nineteen
Kelly climbed back aboard the Vigilant, changed into his coveralls, and took a walk around the exterior with Connie, Chief B, and Chief Miller. They inspected to see that the paint crew had done a proper job. Chiefs B and Miller found three spots where the paint crew had painted over particle beam abrasions without filling and sanding first. Kelly had Connie tell them to do those spots over, as the rest rode an antigravity man lift and inspected the sides and upper surfaces of the ship. Chalk circles marked four other places where the same condition existed. Connie supervised, while the crew repaired them to her satisfaction.
Afterwards, Connie came to see him in his cabin about taking two weeks leave. He told her to put in the form and he’d approve it. He asked where she was going. She told him Alistair was arranging a cabin for them in the southern continent near Lake Tranquility. Kelly wished her a good leave and was there anything else.
She asked, “Sir, how do you do it?”
Puzzled he asked, “How do I do what?”
“How can you watch the death of a ship and 700 crew and not show emotion? I was almost in tears. When the Yellow Jacket was killed, you never showed any emotion.”
Kelly paused for a second or two and responded, “Connie, rest assured I experienced emotions when the Yellow Jacket was destroyed. As captain, you can’t let those emotions control you. I have responsibility for the Vigilant and the lives of her 47 crewmembers.”
“In the heat of battle, you can’t mourn your shipmates. That has to wait until later. Why do you think the military has so many memorial services? You have to stay focused on the fight. If you stop to mourn, the battle goes on, and it could kill you. You push it down and let it come back later. They taught me that in fighter school, but it applies equally here. CDR Milton was a good officer and a good man. He left behind a wife, Jenny, and two children, Robbie, eight and Billy, six. I’ve already sent his wife a condolence message and donated credits to her son’s college funds. In combat, keep your mind in the game. Mourn later.”
She looked at him and he could see the wisdom in what he said. She also felt she had gained a greater insight into her boss.
As Connie left, Kelly reviewed the logs and message traffic. These quiet times in homeport were one of his favorite times as captain. Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary was in the logs from overnight. He called up Wanda, his AI.
“Wanda, what message traffic has come in?”
“Wanda’s older sister alto voice came over the speaker. “How are you, Kelly? I hope you had a good visit with your friends. Message traffic since our arrival has been low. Two messages to captains about FTL power 6 problems that the Valiant had. One says to avoid acceleration to power 6 from below power 4. The other says check your engine synchronizers for conditions out of spec greater than 5%.”
“There are two messages containing Chiefs Austin’s and Pennypacker transfer orders. One item I culled from the traffic stream for you. CPT Shappelle has been chosen for Advanced Fighter Weapons School as a student then as an instructor. She reports into Gagarin in three months.”
Kelly thought what a prize for Angie. He also thought it would put him back to juggling three women. It’s a good thing they all like each other.
Wanda continued, “There are a number of captains’ notices I forwarded to the appropriate chief. The only one of any consequence was a revocation of the replicator training exception. Now, replicator training will be consolidated in Building 209, adjacent to the main dining facility.”
Kelly thought, “There go my morning pastries.”
“Wanda, were there any personal messages?”
“There is a message from your mother about a message she got from your uncle. The message was written by a politician so was quite long-winded but essentially said he hoped he helped you.”
Kelly laughed, “He did, Wanda. Sometimes it’s good having relatives in high places.”
“Kelly,” Wanda said, “There is one other message that has come in that you might find interesting. It is from a MG Irina Bugarov, FF (Ret).”
Kelly sat up and read the message appearing on his screen.
TO: Commanding Officer, GRS Vigilant
FROM: MG Irina Bugarov, FF, (Ret)
SUBJECT: My Appreciation
Dear Sir or Ma’am,
I am writing this message to thank you for my recent liberation from the hands of the Baratarian Brotherhood. My assistant and I were held captive for three weeks, until your action against the K’Rang, which set us all free.
I do not know if you had the opportunity to meet with any of the people you freed. I tried to meet with you at the reception after the surrender ceremony, but was turned away by the Ascetic guards. All of us captives sheltering in the evacuation site sang your praises and your ship’s, too. We heard the story of your engagement with the two K’Rang scout ships that convinced the Brotherhood to surrender. From now until all of us die, our symbol of freedom will be your black-hulled scout ship.
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for restoring my freedom. Understand that you have my undying thanks. If ever I can be of any assistance to you, you need but ask.
Irina Bugarov
MG, FF (Ret)
Vice President for Defense Industries Consolidated
Debran Industries, Inc.
Kelly marveled at this odd turn of events and said, “Now ain’t that a kick in the head!”
He thanked Wanda, keyed up some paperwork, and started doing captain stuff.
* * * * *
Steven Maynard called a captains’ conference in his main conference room on Barataria. His twelve captains assembled and waited to hear what he had to say.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, “as you know our fortunes have changed drastically over the last several months. We faced death by the Galactic Republic or the K’Rang, but have come out of it stronger. Yes, we have forever lost our old way of life, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.”
Captain Chang of the Leviathan stood up and said, “How can you say it’s not a bad thing? How will we live, now that we can no longer plunder?”
“Captain Chang asks a very good question. I believe I have the answer.”
He pushed a button and a holographic projection of the planet appeared in the middle of the table. The world had been divided into a number of similarly sized blocks of land.
“Land, ladies and gentlemen, will pay our bills and keep us in luxuries. Mr. Friedrich Debran has contracted to be our land agent. He will arrange to bring settlers in from the Galactic Republic and give us 70% of the profit. In addition, we obtained a 300 million-credit advance payment, to keep him honest. Fifteen million of these credits have been deposited in each of your accounts. That is only a down payment. Once the settlers start coming in, we are talking billions of credits and those are just for this planet. We have three more planets after we fill this one.”
“Look at the globe in front of you. You will each be granted a section of the planet as your property, your estate. You can keep it all or you can sell it to the incoming settlers. Look at the map and let me know your decisions on which plot of land you want over the next week. Where two captains select the same property, it will be settled by a coin toss. We will draw up papers and deed the section to you. I recommend you talk to our planning board and get their advice on how to divide your section into cities, towns, and villages. Our lawyers can help you in establishing any parklands or reserves you
may want to set aside.”
“The future is bright, my captains, and it’s literally right under our feet. We’ll make more credits off this planet than we ever did thieving.”
Captain Chang answered back, “Yes, but it won’t be near as much fun.”
As the assembled captains broke out laughing, Maynard brought in and introduced the planning board and the lawyers. The meeting went on for another three hours, as the captains picked their land and started figuring how to make the most credits from it.
* * * * *
Kelly and CDR Timmons met with CAPT Hasselrode before being taken in to see the Admiral. CAPT Hasselrode informed Kelly, “It looks like your DSS is going through, in addition to a Presidential Unit Citation, a campaign star, and the engagement star. Minacci got the Chief of Fleet Operations to sign off on them. The boss has me working up a draft policy on display of combat awards on scout ships. He wants to make sure we don’t look like we’ve been sprayed with graffiti. Fleet has a policy but it excludes Scout Force, because of our stealth coating. We have a new stealth coating now and it won’t affect it at all.”
CAPT Hasselrode’s communicator buzzed and he told them the admiral would see them now. Kelly and CDR Timmons went into the Admiral’s office.
Admiral Craddock was standing looking out the window at the yards. This was slightly unusual because every other time they had entered his office he had been seated at work on something.
He turned around and said, “Come in. Take seats at the table. I need some coffee.”
Kelly offered to get it for him but was waved off. He came back in with Captain Hasselrode and they all sat at the conference table.
“I guess you three get to be the first to hear this. I haven’t even told my wife yet. I just got off the communicator with the Chief of Fleet Operations. I’ve been nominated for my third star to take over as the Chief of Fleet Intel. He said he has already greased the skids on this with the Senate. He expects my nomination to be approved with the next biennial Flag Officer Appointment and Promotion List, to be submitted in seven months. They expect the list to be finalized and ratified by the Senate in time for Christmas on Earth. I don’t know who will replace me. I may be able to name my own replacement, as Scout Force will come under Fleet Intel after the Defense Reorganization Act passes.”
All three officers congratulated the admiral and the consensus was that it was well deserved. Admiral Craddock looked at the three officers and said, “John, you don’t get a choice. I’m taking you with me up to Fleet Intel. You two,” pointing at Timmons and Kelly, “need to let me know when you’re coming up for your next assignment. I can get you a good assignment in Fleet Intel HQ or anywhere in Fleet Intel you want to go. Kelly, I know of the perfect job for you in a year and a half, when you turn over the Vigilant to its new captain. I just can’t tell you about it yet.”
The Admiral’s yeoman came in with a tray of glasses and two bottles of champagne. The bottles were opened, glasses filled, and they toasted to absent companions, to their continued good fortune, and to good luck and good hunting.
* * * * *
K’Taul was the third director of the T’Pifa Theoretical Research Institute in the last six months. His predecessors had been unable to make a working transporter gate from the stolen plans, and K’Taul was facing the same dilemma. He couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong. His demonstration machine was exactly according to the diagrams on the three plans, but every time he activated it, the room would fill with the foulest smelling brown smoke.
He knew he wasn’t long for this job if he could not get the device to work. He had called in the cypher team from the Imperial Analytical Cabal twice to ensure they understood the translation of the Blake’s language properly. He couldn’t help thinking the spies stole the wrong data or not all of it. Something must be missing. He was getting nowhere as he was.
He had one last idea for how to proceed. He would bring the finest theoretical and applied physics minds in the K’Rang Empire and form three teams. Each team would work in isolation, be given a complete set of plans, and charged to build a demonstration transporter ring. Surely one of the teams would reach the proper solution.
In the meantime, he was making one last attempt to get this demonstration model to work. Making the K’Rang symbol for good luck, he motioned for his senior research assistant to apply power. He frantically gave the cut power signal as the room filled up with the foul smelling brown smoke.
The End
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