“Of course, Captain,” Kristoff assured her, Sydney noted a touch of disappointment in the engineer’s voice.
“I’m not going to bite anyone, Lieutenant,” she said, the dryness of her voice nearly searing the comm portal.
“Of course not, Captain,” Kristoff returned. “It’s not that. It’s just ... Captain, I’m excited to get my hands on that ship! It’s a Korrelite Boxter, the same model as the first ship I ever flew. I rebuilt mine with my dad when I was fifteen and took my first piloting test in it. My boyfriend and I had our first —” The engineer’s voice cut off abruptly, and was silent for a moment. “That is to say, Ma’am, I haven’t seen one since I was a kid.”
“Ah.” Sydney’ eyes sparkled as she smiled at her chief engineer’s ... memories. “Well, I won’t delay your reunion for long. On my way.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Garvey had also smiled, listening to Kristoff’s revelation, but the smile disappeared as he stepped away from the doorway to make way for his captain. “Are you sure this is wise?”
“I doubt she’ll come out with blasters blazing,” Sydney told him. “She sounded to be, what, still a teenager? Besides, isn’t the level of O’Shaugnassey hostility exactly what we’re trying to determine?”
The exec’s jaw clenched. “At least let me add a Marine to the party.”
Sydney paused in the doorway, then turned back to her exec. “One Marine, XO,” she said. “It is, after all, only one young woman.”
Garvey nodded, visibly relaxing, and lifted his hand comm. “Lieutenant Briscoe, I need one Marine to meet the captain at the landing bay for escort duty.”
There was barely any pause before Briscoe’s voice came back. “Understood, Mr. Garvey. Is there an expected threat?”
The exec sighed lightly as Sydney firmly shook her head no. “No expected threat, Lieutenant, but this isn’t just ceremonial. Let’s call it every-day caution.”
“Roger that, sir. Tell the captain that Private Gonzales will meet her there in two.”
Sydney eyed her exec as he lowered the comm. “Satisfied now, XO?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Garvey told her, his face poker straight. “Say hello for me.”
The captain merely rolled her eyes, then turned and quickly moved away.
Gonzales was still buttoning her shirt as she arrived at the docking bay entrance, but she did arrive at the promised moment, an instant ahead of the captain. Sydney noted the young Marine’s arrival without comment; she had yet to find a lack in the performance of any of Morrigan’s set of Marines, and Gonzales had posted a particularly notable record. Instead, the captain nodded at Hailey Kristoff, whose finger was poised over the bay’s environmental control.
“Go ahead and finish the pressurization, Ms. Kristoff,” Sydney told the engineer in a brisk tone. Kristoff had touched the control on the captain’s nod, and in less than a minute the bay was fully pressurized. Sydney raised her hand comm to her lips.
“Mr. Reiger, please notify our passenger that the docking bay is pressurized, and her reception committee is present. She is free to debark.”
“Aye, Captain,” Rieger’s voice came back. In less than a minute the Morrigan’s comm officer reported, “The passenger acknowledges and is proceeding to disembark.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rieger,” Sydney acknowledged, then nodded to her chief engineer. “Very well, Ms. Kristoff, open the bay door. Let’s go meet our guest.”
As Kristoff opened the hatch Sydney motioned for her Marine escort to step forward. “Lead us in if you would, private,” she said. Gonzales nodded and proceeded through the hatch, the others — Angus MacCreedle and two non-commissioned engineering techs, Tommy Filas and Sara Anthony, in addition to Kristoff and the captain — following in her wake. Kristoff, walking immediately beside Sydney, eyed the Korrelite Boxter with a look torn between desire and anguish.
“Ah, that ship is just a beautiful design,” she sighed, “but this one has definitely seen a lot of hard duty in its time. See all the dents and dings —”
“We offered to make the thing functional, Ms. Kristoff,” Sydney interrupted in a low voice, “not to fix it up for a pageant.”
The engineer clamped her mouth shut, though her eyes continued to rove over the vehicle with longing. “Of course, Captain,” Kristoff muttered. Sydney suppressed a smile, expecting that the engineer would manage to find some excuse to work on shining up the shell of the vessel as well as polishing its innards.
Still, the captain decided as they reached the foot of a ramp automatically deployed by the small ship when its landing skids sensed it had come to rest, if this is Patrick O’Shaugnassey’s niece it won’t hurt to extend an extra bit of friendship. Not after her uncle’s ships refrained from inflicting any of the damage on Morrigan that they had been fully capable of. And if it is not....
She let that thought hang as the Boxter’s hatch opened and Chloe O’Shaugnassey stepped out.
Sydney was first struck by the woman’s stunning crop of red hair, but quickly moved on to her obvious youth, deciding that her guess of nineteen couldn’t be that far off of the mark. But as she strode down the ramp, the captain couldn’t help but be struck by the poised way in which the young woman carried herself. This was no child out for a spin. Chloe O’Shaugnassey was a woman who had fully lived her few years, and faced the universe on her own terms. The impression was only strengthened as the young woman stopped a pair of paces away, caught Sydney’s eyes with a steady look, and smiled gracefully.
“I’m presumin’ that you’ll be Captain Chambers,” she said, her brogue slightly less thick than it had been over the comm yet somehow seeming all the richer for it. “Chloe O’Shaugnassey requestin’ leave to step on board your fine Cahan Morrigan.”
Sydney couldn’t suppress the smile that sprang to her lips at the woman’s easy adherence to protocol. “Permission granted, Ms. O’Shaugnassey, and welcome aboard.” She held out her hand, which Chloe quickly grasped and gave a firm shake.
“I must say, Ms. O’Shaugnassey, that you are the first person to ever take so great a delight in the Morrigan’s name.”
Chloe grinned as she released the captain’s hand. “As you might have guessed from my brogue, Captain,” she said, laughter filling her voice, “I’m comin’ from a long line of Irish stock. Indeed, most of the folk on Aerieland — that’s the world that you’ll be knowin’ as Cygni B-2 — are of Irish descent, and we’re a folk very proud of our heritage, indeed.”
Sydney found herself oddly touched by the young woman’s simple yet fierce words. “There aren’t nearly enough people left who are proud of where they come from, Ms. O’Shaugnassey,” the captain said, her smile quirking into something more ironic than amused. “It’s refreshing to know the sentiment still exists in at least one small part of the Confederacy.”
The Irish woman colored a bit at the compliment. “’Tis the breath of life itself on Aerieland, Captain,” she said. “And please be callin’ me Chloe. While I’m as proud of my last name as I am of my Irish blood, it’s no secret that O’Shaugnassey is a mouthful to be sayin’ all the time.”
Sydney nodded in assent. “Chloe it is, then. May I introduce my chief engineer, Lieutenant Hailey Kristoff? She’ll be in charge of the team that will make your ship run as good as new — or at least as close as an older ship can ever come to that.”
Kristoff extended her hand, which Chloe shook for a moment. “I just love your ship, Chloe,” the engineer bubbled. “I was telling Captain Chambers a bit ago that my first ship was a Boxter just like it. I can’t wait to get my hand on her. What was that name I heard Captain Chambers call her?”
Chloe visibly hesitated, and when she spoke her voice was low and filled with emotion. “Brigid Delaney.”
Kristoff’s face broke into a delighted smile. “That’s right. What a beautiful name — and how appropriate that it’s the Cahan Morrigan where she’s come to be fixed. I ask about her name because I like to talk to the ships that I w
ork on, to let them get to know me while I get to know them.” The engineer blushed suddenly, giving Sydney an apologetic glance and adding defensively, “Ships may just be made of metal, Captain, but each one has a soul, just as much as any person does.”
“A soul? If you say so, Ms. Kristoff,” Sydney acknowledged dryly. Chloe’s eyes had widened at the engineer’s words, though, and she found herself having to swallow hard before she could speak.
“The Brigid Delaney is named after my mother, God rest her.” The words were little more than whispered, but Kristoff heard them and responded by reaching out to touch the younger woman’s arm reassuringly.
“I’ll take good care of both Brigids for you, Chloe,” the engineer said, noting a moist glint in the young ship owner’s eyes. “You’ll see.”
Kristoff gave Chloe a final reassuring smile, then motioned to the other engineers to follow her up the ramp and into the Brigid Delaney. Chloe stepped aside to let them pass, then fell in step with Sydney as the captain turned and began to slowly walk across the bay, headed for the portal back to the rest of Morrigan.
“I’ve become quite curious about Cyg-B —” she began, then paused to correct herself. “About Aerieland, I should have said. From what I’ve learned since arriving here in the system, Aerieland and its cousin in the A system, ah —”
“Big Muddy,” Chloe interjected.
“Really?” Sydney blinked once before continuing. “Anyway, those two worlds seem to be treated as second-class citizens compared to A-3 and B-3.” The captain tried to keep her tone entirely conversational, unsure how the other woman would react to the topic. “While we’ve only been on station a short time, all we seem to hear about are the third planets.”
“Not surprisin’ at all, Captain,” Chloe told her. Sydney decided that the undertone of the comment was near to anger. “Arega and Shenandoah are havin’ all the flashy stuff, don’t you know, so they naturally get most of the attention. Aerieland only manages to produce two things with any amount of reliability — ore, and children.”
Sydney’s steps faltered a moment as she glanced at her red-haired guest. “Excuse me?”
Chloe’s laugh was brief yet rich. “That’s obviously a bit of oversimplifyin’, Captain, but it’s basically true. Aerieland’s a minin’ world, through and through. Oh, we’ve farms, to be sure, and enough cottage industry to keep everyone fed and clothed and not be havin’ to rely on the Company stores for every little bite and stitch. But the crop most important to the folk is our wee ones. If not for family, we’d all have gone daft long ago.”
“Your family is still on ... Aerieland, then?”
A look of sadness flickered across the young woman’s features. “My parents were killed in a minin’ accident, many years ago.”
Ah. “I am sorry,” Sydney said gently. “How —”
Chloe’s sadness had fled; she smiled now, as though remembering something good about the event. “I was ten when my da’s brother came to fetch me. Uncle Patrick’s raised me like I was his own daughter since that very day.”
Well, it was definite confirmation of Chloe O’Shaugnassey’s identity. “I guess you were lucky to have him — your uncle, that is.”
“Sure, and I was. I still am, for all of that.”
“Ah, Ms. O’Shaugnassey — Chloe,” the captain said, halting as they reached the docking bay exit. “I apologize, but I do have to clarify one practical matter. It was pretty clear from your vector that you were heading away from Outpost Station, but as I mentioned, we’re on our way there for a scheduled meeting. Now that we’ve taken your ship into our bay, of course, that means that you’re stuck coming with us.”
Chloe shrugged. “So it would seem.”
Sydney watched the woman for a moment before continuing, “I simply wanted to be sure you’re all right with being dragged back to the station. The repairs are going to take a minimum of three days, my engineer tells me, and —”
“Ah, Captain, put your worries to rest,” Chloe said with a laugh. “Sure, and that may be the most considerate thing that anyone’s said to me. I thank you. True, I’ve just come from a stockin’ up visit to Outpost Station, pickin’ up supplies for the month and visitin’ with a ... a dear friend. Someone ... well, someone I don’t get near enough chance to see.” She blushed. “The company she’s workin’ for is very strict, don’t you know, and she had to be getting’ back. My own return home isn’t nearly so pressin’.”
Sydney got an odd sense from Chloe’s words and her sudden shy blush — she’d bet, if it were any of her business, that the someone Chloe had visited was more than just a friend. “So this won’t give you a chance to spend some more time together,” the captain ventured.
“Ahh,” Chloe sighed, “that would be heavenly, but no. She left for home the same time as I.” She rallied after a moment, a smile quickly flowing back onto her freckled face. “Besides, it’s best I stay here to be helpin’ your engineers with the Brigid Delaney. In case they’re havin’ any questions, don’t you know. Though they’ll soon be findin’ that I’ve got not a bit of talent for engineerin’ myself.” She paused, then added in a dreamy afterthought, “It’s Krista who’s the mechanical genius.”
Even knowing that the comment hadn’t been for her ears Sydney said, “Krista?”
Chloe seemed startled at the question, then gave the captain a fond smile. “Aye, my friend, the one I was visitin’. We met when my ship broke down, just as it is now. Krista came along, headin’ into Outpost Station for supplies, same as me. She managed to get Brigid Delaney up and runnin’ well enough to limp into the station.” She sighed. “Ever since then, she and I try to time our supply runs such that we can meet up for dinner. Or whatever.”
Sydney waited for Chloe to continue, but the woman seemed lost in memories. “Krista sounds like a very good friend, indeed,” she finally said.
“Oh, aye, that she is,” Chloe said after dragging her thoughts back to the present. “I don’t like to think about life without her, anymore.” She paused another beat, then shook her head. “Ah, me, here an’ I’m bendin’ your ear about my own self, when I should be back helpin’ your engineers.”
“Of course.” Sydney quickly touched Chloe’s arm, though, as the woman turned to head back to her ship. “Just one more thing. I’ve got several people on board who would like to meet you, Chloe, in particular to get your take on the situation at 16 Cygni. Since we’ve been on station here we haven’t had many opportunities to meet ... let’s say, normal system residents. As opposed to Station and Corporate managers.”
“I see.”
Sydney gave the woman her most ingratiating smile. “It would be good for as many of us as possible to get a better feeling for just who it is that we’re here to protect.”
Chloe blinked a few times. “That’s —” she began, then hesitated, seeming overwhelmed at being asked to represent an entire system of people to the TSM crew.
“I don’t know just what it is I can be tellin you, but I’ll be honored to try,” she finally allowed.
“Good.” As Sydney watched Chloe’s eyes she thought she could see a war going on behind them, but put on hold any speculation as to what the sides in that war might represent. Instead she merely said, “I’ll notify you about when.”
Chloe nodded silently, the warring emotions now plain on her face. Then she turned and began to walk briskly toward the Brigid Delaney. Sydney watched her for a moment, then turned and pushed her way through the hatch and back into the Morrigan proper.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“We’re at the coordinates, boss.”
Patrick O’Shaugnassey sat back in his command chair. To a casual observer he appeared as relaxed as a man could be: shoulders back, one leg crossed over the other, a slight smile on his lips. Anyone who knew him well, though, would immediately sense the coiled spring singing its song of tension directly beneath the cool Irish veneer. Patrick didn’t trust Hans Vattermann any further than he could throw him ... hated
his piratical opposite number for calling the present meeting without sufficient explanation of what he had in mind ... and particularly hated being away from his own beloved Cyg-B system at a time when Vattermann was showing expansionist tendencies and the TSM was currently flexing its limited, but still admittedly powerful, muscles.
The two men currently manning the controls of O’Shaugnassey personal ship, the Clancy Aodhan — Tom Flannery, Patrick’s right-hand man, and Sean Gerald, the Clancy’s chief pilot — were well aware of their boss’ tension but were wise enough to keep their thoughts on the matter to themselves. Neither was any happier than Patrick to be meeting with the Cyg-A pirates but both understood the necessity of occasional coordination between the two brigand groups.
Especially with TSM now stirred into the 16 Cygni mix.
“Nice pilotin’, Sean,” O’Shaugnassey said in response to the pilot’s announcement. “You’ll be keepin the drive primed, just in case?”
“Aye,” Gerald acknowledged, “that I will.”
“Any sign of our hosts, Tom?” Patrick glanced at what he could see of the scan screens over Flannery’s shoulder. “For all that, any sign of any other ships out there?”
“No signs of anything, boss, at least, not yet.” Flannery, currently acting as scan tech as well as navigator, turned his chair around to face the pirate commander. “Fact is, it’s pretty lonely out here.”
“So it should be, to be havin’ a meetin’ with the likes of Hans Vattermann,” Patrick muttered. Both of the other men ignored the comment. Flannery swiveled back to his scan station, watching for a long, silent minute before visibly stiffening at the display’s output.
“Hyper window forming,” he said, his words flat. Beside him Gerald reached out, allowing his right hand to hover over the control which would initiate a hyper window of their own and fling the Clancy into it, should the newcomer not be to his captain’s liking. Patrick merely leaned forward slightly, again trying to peer over his chief lieutenant’s shoulder.
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