by C. G. Mosley
“It’s not just that,” Charlie said, standing up. “I didn’t know Sabre was capable of being so unselfish.”
Tim eyed him curiously and adjusted his cap. “Charlie, I know you got a little tiff going with Sabre, but that better not have any effect on how you do your job.”
Charlie looked at his boss and scowled. “Chief, come on,” he said. “I don’t like the guy and I want him to stay away from my sister, but I’m also a professional.”
“So, what’s your deal with him then?”
“I just told you, he’s dating Lauren,” he replied.
Tim chuckled. “Ain’t your sister a grown woman?”
“Yes, of course,” Charlie answered as he grabbed a wrench from his tool box and began working to get the nose cone loose.
“So why can’t she decide who she dates?” Tim asked. He pulled the dangling radar antennae out of the way, so Charlie could seat his wrench.
“Because,” he grunted as he jerked the bolt free. “You know, and I know, that Christian Smith has a reputation of being a bit of a heart-breaker.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“Of course, I have,” Charlie replied. “I told him I’m not completely opposed to it, but he needed to prove to me that he can be trusted if he wanted my blessing.”
The nose cone broke free and Charlie was relieved to see that the radar antennae was one of the newer styled ones and it had a plug so that it could be easily replaced. He unplugged the damaged one and tossed it aside.
“I know he’s a little rough around the edges, but I don’t think he’s all bad,” Tim said. “If it weren’t for him, Howler would be dead. And the bad thing is that Howler is pissed at him about saving his life.”
Charlie paused and grabbed a rag out of his pocket to wipe his hands. “What? Why would he be mad about that?”
“Something about deserting the rest of the squad,” Tim answered with a shrug. “Howler lost Cyclops and Romeo. I guess he thinks if Sabre had been back there to lead them, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, I think so too, but the man just lost two pilots. He’s not thinking straight,” Tim said and then he too wiped his hands. “You got this now?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “Thanks.”
Tim nodded and moved on to help another mechanic on another Comet. Once Charlie was alone, he grabbed a roll of tape and climbed the ladder to get into the cockpit. Once he sat down at the controls, he pulled a strip of tape loose and stuck it across the top of the console. Then he pulled a permanent marker from his pocket and began to write on it.
Chapter 23
Amus had no trouble setting up a meeting in space with the leaders of the Federation. He was enthusiastic when he shared the news with Captain Hightower.
“President Dala is excited about meeting a new ally,” Amus said excitedly.
“Does he know of our predicament?” Hightower asked.
Amus chuckled. “President Dala is female,” he said. “And yes, I told her that you are trying to return to Earth. They are ready to rendezvous with you immediately at the coordinates I provided.”
“Rowena Walker is turning our ship in their direction as we speak,” Hightower replied. “Did your president give any indication of what she expects from me and my ship?”
Amus shook his head. “No, she did not,” he answered. “But knowing her and the other Federation advisors, I’m sure they are already developing a plan. They waste little time.”
It took only two hours for the SC Titan to catch up with the similarly sized Federation starship. Jake Crosby wasted no time hailing the blimp-shaped ship and soon got the friendly response he expected.
“They are inviting you aboard, sir,” Jake said, glancing at the captain over his shoulder.
Colonel Madigan looked at him uneasily. “You sure about this Harry?”
Hightower half-smiled and patted the executive officer on the shoulder. “Of course, I’m not,” he said with a chuckle. “But I have to go.”
He grabbed a radio communicator and clipped it onto his belt. “If something goes wrong, I’ll let you know.”
“Take this too,” Madigan said, handing him a handgun.
The captain shook his head and gently pushed the weapon away. “No, I need them to trust me and they need to know that I trust them.”
Colonel Madigan reluctantly replaced the sidearm into the holster on his side. “Our cannons will be pointed on that ship until you return,” he said.
Hightower nodded. “The bridge is yours, Merrill,” he said, stepping away.
When he reached the launch bay, Amus was waiting for him and he still seemed very excited. The captain was unsure whether to consider his demeanor to be a good or bad sign. Amus sensed his uneasiness.
“Do not worry, Captain,” he said. “Your willingness to come aboard our vessel and speak with our president speaks volumes. I assure you that this will be a friendly and cordial exchange. We aren’t used to encountering humans as friendly as you Earthlings.”
“I trust you,” Hightower said, and he looked past Amus to the shuttle. “Shall we?”
Amus nodded and then gestured for him to board ahead of him. Once on the shuttle, Hightower glanced around the cabin and was surprised to find that it wasn’t much different than their own shuttle on board the Titan. There were signs on the wall with strange symbols that he didn’t recognize, and the controls appeared different, but otherwise the Avaxian shuttle was very similar.
The captain found that all the seats were against the wall. He found one and quickly fastened the seat belt. Meanwhile Amus took his place in the cockpit and quickly began flipping switches and turning knobs. Within seconds Hightower heard the vehicle hum to life and then felt it rise. It was remarkably quiet. Once outside the ship, he peered back toward the SC Titan. He longed to be back onboard within its relative safety but tried to push the thought aside so he could focus on the job at hand. He was unsure at present exactly how much help he could agree to give, but anything that could be done to accelerate their return home, he was prepared to do.
As the small shuttle drew near the large Avaxian vessel, Hightower noticed viewports sprinkled across the side and a large slim, rectangular window across the front. He could easily see movement beyond the window and the blue beings, the Avaxians, going about their usual jobs and routines.
“How many of your people are on board?” he asked.
“Around two hundred…and then another hundred Bothians,” he replied.
Hightower found himself wondering what a Bothian would look like. He wanted to ask Amus but did not want to seem rude.
“So, you said that Bothians and Avaxians used to dislike each other?” he asked, trying to make conversation.
“Yes,” Amus answered. “If we had been able to put aside our differences sooner, it’s widely believed that Romulus Shade would not have been able to overtake our races as easily. Unfortunately, he used the hatred we had toward each other as an avenue of plotting our defeat.”
Amus glided the shuttle through a circular tube on the front of the ship that Hightower initially thought was an opening for some sort of cannon. The tube was short in length and before long, the shuttle emerged inside a vast opening in the center of the ship. It was bright white in color and there were blue Avaxians strolling about in all directions. The shuttle landed gently and Amus quickly opened the door on the back of the vehicle.
“Come, meet my people,” he said, his pointy teeth gleaming.
Captain Hightower exited behind him and he immediately felt a pang of guilt. The Avaxian people surrounded him, but he didn’t spot a single weapon being pointed at him. It was a far different reception than the one he’d ordered for Amus.
“Welcome to the Nebula,” a female voice said.
It was the voice that immediately gave away her sex, but as Hightower studied the Avaxian female’s features, he noticed other evidence. Her fa
cial features were far softer, and her lips fuller. She had a noticeable bosom and the rest of the curves on her body were clearly feminine.
“Thank you,” he said, offering his hand. “Are you President Dala?”
She laughed, and then stared at his hand. “No, I am not President Dala,” she answered playfully. She continued to stare at his hand.
“Avaxians aren’t familiar with that custom,” Amus whispered, leaning toward him.
Hightower immediately retracted his hand, and was ushered quickly through the crowd until they reached a hallway that led directly to a set of double glass doors. The glass was distorted with some sort of coating that would not allow him to get a clear view of what was beyond them, but he could make out the familiar blue hue of Avaxian skin moving about. Amus pushed through the doors and the captain’s eyes widened at the sight before him.
There were three large tables with what appeared to be Avaxian food on them. There were strange purple melons, what resembled pink apples and some sort of large roasted animal that reminded him of a pig. Beyond the tables of food there was another long table with another Avaxian female, though this one was significantly older than the one he’d met right off the shuttle. Beside her, sat a creature even more bizarre than the Avaxians. It was reptilian, and adorned in metallic armor. The head of the being reminded him of a dinosaur—tyrannosaurus rex specifically. Its skin was a deep gray in color. This, he assumed, was a Bothian.
“Welcome Captain Hightower,” the female said, and she applauded lightly.
“President Dala, I presume,” he answered, bowing his head.
She smiled and slightly nodded her head. “We are so grateful that you agreed to come and visit with us,” she said. “Please partake in the feast before you, all that you see has been prepared specifically for you. We Avaxians love to eat while we discuss important matters.”
Harry Hightower didn’t anticipate having to eat a foreign food while in alien custody. However, as it seemed it was all for him, there was no way he’d be able to refuse it, even politely. Amus saw him eyeing the foods and then gestured for him to help himself.
“He doesn’t want that garbage,” the reptilian humanoid said suddenly. His voice was gravelly and exactly what Hightower was expecting.
President Dala looked over at the alien beside her incredulously. “Drago, do not be rude,” she scolded, then looked back to Captain Hightower. “I’m sorry, Bothians have rather abrasive personalities.”
Hightower held up a dismissive hand and smiled slightly. “It’s fine.”
The Bothian stepped forward, his armor clanged as he did so. “Tell the truth, Earthling, you have no desire to eat any of that fruit, but you feel as though you have to, so that you will not show disrespect.”
“Oh no,” the captain said quickly. “It all looks rather delicious.”
Drago smiled, and his teeth were far more frightening than any Hightower had seen in the mouth of an Avaxian. “Suit yourself, liar,” he said. “But I made sure that you had a boar from Katoo to ensure you’re fed properly.”
Captain Hightower couldn’t help but smile. The Bothian was direct, unapologetic, and to the point, qualities he liked in any human. “Thank you, Mr. Drago,” he said with a slight bow.
“Don’t bow to me, human,” Drago barked. “That’s the very thing that Romulus Shade would have us do.”
“My apologies,” Hightower answered, and he quickly made his way toward the food to try and redirect the conversation. In an effort to be as diplomatic as possible, he gathered equal shares of the Avaxian fruit, as well as the boar from Katoo that Drago said he provided. He then hurried over to the table. Amus sat beside him while President Dala and Drago sat across from them. For a few minutes they all ate in silence. He did not know exactly what he was expecting from the Avaxian fruit, but Hightower found that he liked it. The purple melons were very sweet and reminded him of an orange, but much sweeter. It was so sweet in fact that he found he was unable to finish it. The pink fruit that resembled apples tasted unlike any fruit he’d ever had before, however he picked out a hint of coconut flavor. The boar from Katoo, as he expected, was his favorite part of the meal. The taste was almost identical to venison.
President Dala consumed only one pink apple before dabbing her mouth with a napkin and pushing her plate aside. “Amus has told us that you and your crew are trying to find a way back to Earth,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning forward.
“Yes,” Captain Hightower said, as he dabbed his own mouth. “We are hoping that the Federation could assist us in getting our hands on a Kaloian star chart. Amus tells me that if we had one, we could easily find a hyperspace gate.”
“True, you could,” Drago said. “But would you know how to operate it?”
Hightower looked at him and shook his head. “No, we honestly have no idea,” he said. “Again, I’m hoping that the Federation could provide assistance.”
The Bothian laughed and slapped the table. “So, you think that we know how to operate the gates?” he asked.
“I’m assuming that means you can’t,” Hightower replied as he stabbed another piece of boar with his knife.
President Dala was glaring at Drago. “Do you have to be so vile all of the time?” she grumbled.
“If we find a star chart, we should be able to find instructions for the gate as well,” Amus offered, trying his best to diffuse the tension in the room.
“Right,” President Dala agreed. “Thank you, Amus.” She returned her attention to Hightower. “The point, Captain, is that we will find a way to help you get home. It’s the least we can do since you’re going to help us with our…problem.”
Captain Hightower stopped chewing and slowly looked over at Amus. The blue alien smiled at him, again revealing his pointy teeth. “Amus, what exactly did you tell them?”
President Dala and Drago looked at each other, then back at Amus.
“You have a ship and you have some of the most skilled pilots I’ve ever seen in the entire galaxy,” Amus said excitedly. “Captain Hightower your ship and your fleet of fighters can join us, and we can overtake the Kaloians in a matter of months.”
“Months?” Hightower said, unable to hide his concern. “Amus, we don’t have months. We’ll need fuel and rations.”
“That is not a problem,” President Dala chimed in. “We have plenty of fuel reserves and I assure you we have plenty of food as well.”
Though her offer was a relief to hear, Hightower suddenly realized he was being dragged further and further into the war with the Kaloians.
“He hasn’t committed to anything,” Drago said, eyeing him.
“Of course he has,” President Dala said. “Amus said—”
“Right,” Drago interrupted. “Amus said it. The captain here has not committed to anything. He has been taken by surprise by what Amus just said.”
President Dala’s eyes narrowed. “Is this true, Captain?”
Hightower sighed and again glanced over at Amus. “Well, not exactly,” he said. “I told Amus that we’d help how we could. I think he may have exaggerated what I said just a bit.”
President Dala looked over at Amus coldly. He in turn looked down and into his plate.
“I don’t know how much help we can offer,” Hightower added. “I’m not prepared to put my people in danger. This is not our war…we just want to get home.”
“It’s not your war…yet!” Drago snapped, and he slammed his fist onto the table. “I know that you Earthlings are a primitive race, but you can’t really be this stupid. The Kaloians will find planet Earth and you will be enslaved just as many of our people have been.”
Captain Hightower wiped his mouth again and shifted in his chair. “Yes, we realize that,” he said, trying hard to keep his cool. “What we want to do is get back to our home world so that we can prepare for such an invasion.”
Drago shook his head and rolled his reptilian eyes.
“In the meantime,” Hightower continued. “If
there is something we can do to help with your current efforts, we are willing to discuss it. Obviously, we know that we are burdening the Federation by asking for your help to get us to and through a hyperspace gate. That is why I’m open to discuss something we can do to assist you in the effort while we are here, but ultimately we can’t commit to a long-term participation in this war.”
President Dala frowned and sunk back into her chair. This was clearly not what she wanted to hear. Captain Hightower glanced over at Amus and saw that he too was disappointed. Only Drago’s expression remained the same. He had his large arms crossed and he was smiling.
“Though I appreciate your honesty, I don’t appreciate cowards,” he quipped through his dagger-like teeth.
“Drago, stop,” President Dala said. “Captain Hightower, we will help you and your ship get home, you have my word on that.”
Hightower felt a rush of relief. “Thank you, president,” he said gratefully.
“However,” she continued. “You must use your own ship to acquire the star chart that you need. I will provide Amus to assist you. The charts and instructions you find will not be in a language you can read. I will also aid in deciphering all of that information.”
“Thank you,” Hightower said, though he was hoping for a little more assistance in gaining the objects needed. However, he also knew she was right; without her aid, they’d never be able to decipher any documents that they managed to obtain. “So how can I help you in return?”
“I don’t need anything in return,” President Dala said sadly.
“No,” Drago said suddenly. “The Earthlings do not get our help unless they do something for us too.”
President Dala waved him off. “There’s no need, Drago. There is nothing they can do.”
“Yes, there is,” the Bothian argued, and he again pounded the table with his fist.
“What?” Hightower asked. “Please tell me.”
“There is a Voyager starship called the Polaris,” Drago began.
“No,” President Dala interrupted suddenly. “It’s much too dangerous.”