What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  “I’m surprised, Captain. I didn’t think the Independents had anything that could threaten a ship like this.”

  “A few years ago, perhaps, but recently…well, someone’s been selling to them.”

  “Independents, sir?” Sigrid asked. “Who are they?”

  The captain smiled. “Nothing to worry about, my dear.”

  “They’re not really anyone,” Shinji explained. “They’re mostly companies that have separated themselves from the Federated Corporations. Some have even gone so far as to attempt to form governments on the planets they control. Of course, they’ve all been abysmal failures. Captain Maalouf is correct—they’re of no concern.”

  “Still, the Council will have its hands full, what with all the secessions. Almost makes me miss the old days when the CTF could actually maintain order. Nothing but a toothless tiger now.”

  Sigrid knew from her schooling that the Council for Trade and Finance was responsible for maintaining order in the Federation, but it had never been disclosed that they lacked the ability to maintain control. If that were the case then she’d need to update her database.

  “Who controls the Federation now, sir?”

  They all stopped eating and regarded her with amusement. Captain Maalouf laughed out loud. Sigrid flushed at her apparent gaffe. “An excellent question, my dear. The Council maintains—well, claims—authority, but the Federation has grown…too many planets, too fast.”

  “My mother, the Lady Hitomi, calls it a Market Correction,” Shinji said with a snicker.

  “With so much more territory, so much trade,” the captain continued, “and so many more companies working the systems, the Council hires companies like ours to plug the gaps in their patrols. But those gaps are growing.”

  “The attack on the Academy, for instance,” Shinji offered. “That would have been unheard of just a few years ago.”

  “In the past, no mercenary company would take a contract against another. Guild law forbade it, and for obvious reasons. The results would be chaotic—not to mention the tariffs and fines. But greed, it seems, often wins out against logic. The CTF is stretched thin, the Mercenary Guild fractured. We used to pass by ships from other companies without a care in the world. Now, skirmishes are commonplace occurrences. I’m quite positive you and your girls from the Academy will have all the work you can handle.”

  * * *

  After dinner, Sigrid was escorted to her quarters. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She unfastened the dress and unpacked the rest of her things, trying to get herself set up, but the more she tried to make the modest quarters comfortable the more the room felt oppressive and stifling. She sat on the bed and hugged her pillow, trying to quell the pangs of loneliness that twisted at the knot in her stomach, but the pain only got worse. If only Suko were there. If only she could be with her just a little longer…

  Sigrid groaned. It hadn’t even been a day; how would she survive a week?

  “Gah!”

  Sigrid stood up abruptly and zipped the dress back up, fastening it behind her neck. She couldn’t confine herself to quarters—she’d go mad! She checked the door, half-expecting it to be locked, but it slid open for her. Sigrid stiffened, startled at the sight of the crewman standing guard outside her door.

  “Ma’am,” he said with a nod.

  “Am I allowed…out?”

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  That was a surprise. She’d expected him to send her back inside; instead, he accompanied her as she started off down the corridor. Guard or escort? She still wasn’t sure.

  Sigrid had no idea where she was going; she only knew she had to go somewhere—do something. The tiny observation lounge provided a moment of distraction, but she needed something more—something more physical. She found just the thing when she reached the small gym. Though late in the evening, the ship ran twenty-four-seven and the gym was crowded with crewmen and officers exercising.

  As Sigrid walked into the locker room to change, she caught sight of Ensign Karen McTeer dressed in a towel and heading toward the showers.

  “Oh, hello, Sigrid. How was dinner?”

  “Odd.”

  Karen caught her frown. “I hope they weren’t too cruel.”

  “Cruel? Oh—no! They were fine. I just…well, there’s a lot I don’t understand, I suppose.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for. Are you on your way in or out?” she asked, pointing back to the gym.

  “In—I thought I could use a workout.”

  Karen’s eyes widened; Sigrid was, by far, the fittest person she’d ever seen.

  “I just need to work off some steam,” Sigrid explained.

  “Well, I’m just on my way to the mess to meet some friends. We’d love to have you—if you like—if you’re not busy, that is…”

  Sigrid considered the offer; she really didn’t want to be alone at the moment, and Karen was so friendly… “Yes, that would be lovely, thank you.”

  Karen’s face lit up; she squeezed Sigrid’s arm. “Perfect. Hang on, I’ll be right out.”

  Sigrid watched Karen retreat to the showers. After a few minutes, a fresh-looking Karen returned and led her quickly to the mess.

  Karen’s companions were already there with a table waiting. Karen introduced the young man as Lieutenant Christian Lopez. He rose and took Sigrid’s hand in greeting; his easy smile was warm and friendly, despite his slightly rough look. He towered above Sigrid; his large hand made her own seem small as a child’s. The other girl was introduced as Ensign Melissa Greenway. Unlike Karen and Lieutenant Lopez, Melissa greeted Sigrid with evident apprehension.

  Karen elbowed her in the side. “Melissa…”

  Ensign Greenway blushed. “Sorry.”

  “She’s clearly been listening to the latest batch of rumors,” Karen explained.

  Christian gave her a wink. “The way people are talking about you, they’ll expect you to be eight feet tall.”

  Sigrid was shocked. “Me! What did I do?”

  Karen gave her a sympathetic look. “They’re all just a little…curious. It’s nothing.”

  “Well, you have to understand,” Christian explained, “we were taken off assignment to come ferry you to Aquarii—that’s a lot of ship for one little girl—sorry…young lady. And then we hear about the Academy. That gets people talking.”

  “I’ve already told them not to ask you anything,” Karen said, patting her hand and glaring a warning at her two friends.

  Christian grinned. “Of course, that just means we get to keep making up our own versions. Don’t worry. In mine, you breathe fire.”

  “Christian…really!” Karen chided, swatting him on the shoulder. But it was all rather lighthearted and Sigrid felt her mood lifting as she followed the easy banter they all shared.

  “Who wants a drink?” Christian asked. “I could use a drink.”

  “Ooh—me!” Karen said. “I want something tall—with an umbrella.”

  “One girly-drink, comin’ up. Sigrid?”

  “Water’s fine, thanks,” Sigrid said.

  “Water? Nah-uh. I’ll get you something good.”

  “I’ll take a lemonade,” Melissa said.

  “Hard,” Christian said, with a leer; Melissa rolled her eyes.

  “Ladies…” Christian bowed respectfully before heading off to the dispenser to fetch their drinks.

  He was back in a flash, with something tall and orange for Karen—with an umbrella—a vodka and lemonade for Melissa and two tall pints of something dark and foamy for himself and Sigrid.

  “Cheers,” he said, raising his glass.

  “Cheers,” Karen said, mimicking him. Sigrid joined them and they all clinked their glasses together.

  Sigrid had never had beer before; the dark liquid teemed with delicious-looking bubbles that wriggled down from the creamy head of foam. Despite its deep, dark color, Sigrid found the taste light and smooth. She quaffed the pint of ale back like a seasoned veteran.

>   She felt a tingling sensation in her extremities as the alcohol worked its way into her bloodstream. Her head felt light. The bubbles reacted in her stomach, causing her to burp loudly. Karen laughed. But within moments, the nano-swarms in her system surged forward, working to process the alcohol. The tingling quickly abated.

  Christian looked at her expectantly. “Well?”

  Sigrid considered the beverage. It was like nothing she’d ever had before. It was flavorful and very refreshing. She smacked her lips, still experiencing the taste. “Good!” Sigrid said, giving a thumbs up.

  “A girl after my own heart.” Christian raised his glass to her and took a large mouthful.

  Sigrid offered to get the next round. As she waited in line for the dispenser a man standing behind her bumped into her. She didn’t think much of it, but then he bumped into her again, harder this time. She turned to see what was going on and saw a young crewman leering down at her.

  “You’re new,” he said.

  Sigrid looked him up and down, warily. “Yes—I just came on board at Alcyone.” She turned away—it was her turn at the dispenser.

  “You’re her! You’re one of those girls.”

  “I suppose.” Sigrid could tell that he was already drunk, and so were his companions. The three of them stood snickering behind her. She heard one of them make a comment about her rear—it didn’t make her feel flattered at all. She flushed red. As she placed two more pints of ale on her tray, he bumped her again, making her spill both glasses.

  “Whoops!” he said, barking out a drunken laugh.

  Sigrid retrieved the toppled glasses and gathered some towels to clean up the mess.

  “Lemme help.” He leaned over her, pushing her up against the dispenser, then put his hand over her own as she tried to mop up the spill. “Well, aren’t you a little one.”

  Sigrid wasn’t sure what the regulations were concerning her aboard the ship, but she knew a bully when she saw one and she’d just about had her fill of him. Sigrid pushed him back—not hard enough to hurt him, though sufficient to make it clear he’d overstepped.

  “Easy…!” he said, holding his hands up. “I was just trying to help.”

  Christian, who’d been watching the altercation grow, had seen quite enough. He hastened over and lodged himself between Sigrid and the crewman, placing a warning hand on the man’s shoulder. “I think you’ve had enough, crewman. Why don’t you boys go sleep it off.”

  The crewman swatted Christian’s hand away and stepped closer to the Lieutenant. “I’m off duty.”

  “You’re also out of line.”

  “Sorry—sir.”

  Christian didn’t see the sucker-punch coming, but Sigrid did—her hand moved up so fast it shocked both men. They stared as Sigrid held the crewman’s fist in her own hand, centimeters in front of Christian’s face. The startled crewman tried to pull his hand away, but it might as well have been locked in a steel vice. Sigrid tightened her grip and twisted and watched the man sink to his knees, his face contorted with a mixture of shock and pain. They all heard the sharp crack as she broke his arm at the wrist. He howled in pain.

  Sigrid glared down at him. “I’ve had a very long day.”

  “You broke my fucking arm!”

  Sigrid calmly turned back to the dispenser, refilled the pint glasses and got two more drinks for Karen and Melissa. Behind her, two crewman quietly set about hauling the injured man off to the Medical Ward. Sigrid was given a wide berth as she made her way back to the table.

  “Well,” she said, handing out the drinks. “Where were we?”

  Karen tried her best to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God!”

  Christian returned to join them. He took a long pull from his pint, before looking seriously at the three girls. “I could’ve taken him, you know.”

  Karen and Melissa erupted into laughter and raised their glasses to Sigrid.

  Melissa frowned. “Do you think he’ll press charges?”

  “Charges!” Christian cried, losing some ale in the process. “I put him on report.”

  “Good for you,” Karen said.

  Despite the near fisticuffs, Sigrid enjoyed the rest of her evening immensely. The camaraderie went a long way toward easing some of the loneliness she felt, but she still couldn’t sleep that night. She spent most of it tossing and turning, uncertain of her future, uncertain about herself, and missing Suko terribly.

  * * *

  March 1, 2348

  They were almost at the Warp Relay when Sigrid heard the call come through her comlink. Karen was waiting for her in the forward observation lounge so Sigrid joined her there. It took several minutes to find her because most of the off-duty crew had gathered there and were crammed into the small lounge near the forward viewport.

  “I thought you might like to see this before we drop,” Karen said, gesturing to the wide window in front of her.

  Sigrid leaned forward and peered at the spectacle. She’d seen pictures of the Warp Relays, but never one for real. The sight took her breath away; especially seeing it charged up as it was, ready for the Agatsuma to drop through its portal into warp-space. The Alcyone Relay was small compared to some in other systems, but it was still over 400 meters in diameter. The latticed, ring-like structure looked fragile and delicate; orange and white sparks danced back and forth between the lattices. The entire structure glowed with an intense blue light, hinting at its immense and latent power.

  “Look, they’re orienting it,” Karen said, pointing.

  Sigrid watched as the relay spun on its axis; she knew this was the result of the Agatsuma’s navigator feeding coordinates to the relay-system, aiming the device at their destination of Aquarii. Now, it was just a matter of dropping through the portal at the appropriate angle and velocity, where they’d appear, instantaneously, at their destination.

  “I always come here to watch before a jump,” Karen said.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Have you ever seen a drop before?”

  Sigrid shook her head.

  “You’re going to love this.”

  The Agatsuma accelerated toward the Relay and it glowed brighter still as their proximity and velocity increased. She felt several subtle bumps in the floor as the ship continued to make minor shifts in its angle of approach.

  Karen placed her hand on her stomach. “Oh—I hate when they do that. That always makes me nervous.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re adjusting the approach angle—if the navigator gets that wrong, by even the tiniest fraction, we could pop out on the other side of Alpha Centauri, or who knows where.”

  “Don’t tell me that now!”

  But Karen laughed, easing Sigrid’s sudden anxiety. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s all preprogrammed. There hasn’t been a warp malfunction in years.” Karen pointed ahead. “Here we go.”

  Sigrid found herself reaching out and holding the ensign’s hand as the Relay loomed closer, all at once filling the entire viewport. Sigrid heard the telltale hum, growing ever-louder as the ship’s hull resonated with the powerful energy field. She shielded her eyes from the brilliant flash; Karen’s hand tightened in her own. The stars seemed to grow, becoming bloated, quickly expanding, coalescing with one another until all were merged into one. For a long while, everything that was became white. And then, like snow falling, the white melted away, scattering, coalescing again into individual stars that shimmered in the darkness as they took shape.

  “Not bad, huh,” Karen said.

  Sigrid could only nod in agreement.

  * * *

  Captain Maalouf sat in his command chair in the crowded CIC. He looked down in quiet annoyance at the flashing red alarm on the panel of the console before him. Four hundred and eighty-seven drops, and that light had always been green, but now it flashed a red warning.

  “Report!” he barked at the Tactical Officer.

  Lieutenant Christian Lopez swung into his own seat; his hands danced over the panel in
front of him. His eyes widened slightly. “Sir—we have a contact off the port bow,” he said, tying in his monitor to the main screen at the front of the bridge so the captain could take a look. A small ship, just a fifth the size of the Agatsuma, lay waiting for them some 25,000 kilometers distant. “It registers as the Morrigan, a small scout-class vessel attached to the Dalair Military Group.”

  “Helm—evasive action,” the captain barked. “I want some distance between us and that ship.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the Helmsman said.

  “Dalair?” the XO asked, looking to the captain. “What the hell are they doing out here? This is a Kimura controlled system.”

  “Hail them,” the captain ordered. His face was fixed in a scowl as he tried to figure out the scenario. The Agatsuma outgunned the tiny scout-ship five to one. Attacking them didn’t make sense. “Let’s see what they want.”

  Before the Communications Officer could respond, they all heard three loud bangs, reverberating on the hull. Maalouf looked up in alarm.

  “Captain, we hit something!” Lopez shouted; he continued to scan the incoming data.

  “Missiles?” Tapert asked.

  Lopez shook his head. “No, we weren’t hit, we hit something. Captain…” Lopez brought the new data up on the screen, “…we’ve been mined!”

  The image of the Morrigan was replaced by a remote view of the exterior of the Agatsuma. They all saw the black, cylindrical object, about three meters long and half a meter thick, attached to the hull of the Corvette.

  “Shit,” Captain Maalouf, muttered under his breath. “All stop.” He turned again to his Communications Officer, who stood frozen, staring at the image of the deadly explosive device attached to their ship. “Well, Ensign, let’s get ‘em on the blower and see what they want.”

  The young ensign shook herself out of her funk and set to the task. “They’re hailing us, sir.”

  “Well—put them on.” Maalouf shook his head. Rookies.

  The forward view screen switched to the image of the Morrigan‘s bridge. Centered on the screen was a very large man. He looked to be shoehorned into the command chair where he sat. Realizing that he was connected, he leaned forward in his chair, his face becoming serious and intent. “This is Captain Gregory Oslov of the DSS Morrigan. By order of the CTF and the Federation of Commercial Enterprises, I hereby order you to stand down and surrender your cargo. Failure to comply will result in sanctions and fines—amounts to be set by CTF.”