Unwrapping Miss Milky Way

by Candace Sams

  “I might know of a good candidate,” Datron informed him. “I met her while scoring the Miss Milky Way pageant interviews. She claims to have held that title the year Keir won as Mr. Interstellar Feller.”

  Electra’s brows rose. “I think I know who you’re talking about. She’s a pint-sized little thing and was judging contestants the other night in the ballroom. Uh, her name is…Charlotte…something-or-other?”

  “Charlotte Grayson,” Datron provided. “I wasn’t sure I believed her until she rattled off most of the specs for the Valiant’s fuel ratio system. She says she’s a master mechanic from Earth.”

  “Can you trust her?” Electra asked.

  Datron quickly responded. “If she’s as good as I think she is this woman might just be the ticket. Can you use your position as an Earth Protectorate operative to check her out? She’s from your world. Clitus and Gilla can use Oceanun computers to run a similar background check for this planet.”

  Gilla shook his head. “You know, you don’t have to inform her of the entire mission and its origins two years ago. But she’ll obviously want to know something of our current assignment. Is involving her wise?”

  “I don’t think I’ll have to tell her anything,” Datron responded. “We could simply hire her to fix the engines of the craft I’ve chosen, then release her after her contractual work is done. I’ll offer her a lucrative package for working on a very tight, unexpected schedule and she’ll be none-the-wiser. This is assuming she passes the background check.”

  “I’ll look into this woman’s Earth history,” Electra confirmed. “But we’ll need to act quickly. How should we approach her?”

  “I invited her to tour the Valiant today,” Datron informed them. “It seemed she was interested in the engine and a few problems we’ve been having with it. When I offered the tour, I only meant it as a friendly gesture. Now, it’ll serve the purpose of seeing if she’s really as good as she says.”

  “Good.” Electra announced. “For my part, I can give you an answer by this evening. I’ll have to work from my hotel suite where I can use scanning devices to make sure Oceanus transmission centers can’t monitor what I’m doing. No offense, but Oceanus and Earth Protectorates are still separate agencies, and we each have our secrets regarding access to secure information. From my room, I can secretly access computers on the Earth vessel, Britannia. She’s one of the finest ships Earth Protectorate has in service. Whatever data exists concerning this Charlotte Grayson’s background, the Britannia’s computers will have access to it.”

  Datron stared at Electra. He slowly approached her and pasted on what he hoped was his most officious expression. He trusted her implicitly but the obvious question had to be asked. He was still an Oceanus law enforcement officer even if they were working together on this mission.

  “What is the Britannia doing so near Oceanus?” he demanded. “Our authorities didn’t authorize any Earth ship flying so close.”

  Electra smiled. “It’s free space, darling. Oceanuns don’t own it all and the Britannia is just protecting our citizens on Rigalli Seven. It is one of our colonies as you well know.”

  Clitus laughed and shook his finger at her. “One of Earth Protectorate’s vessels is always hovering near Oceanus’ boundaries according to my friends at Communication HQ. I believe our own agency often has a few of our ships just outside Earth’s dominion.”

  Datron pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “All right…all right! I don’t need or want to know if Oceanus and Earth are covertly spying on each other. We’re as near to being allies as we ever were but for a few miner trade agreements still to be hashed out.” He sighed in frustration. “Right now, we have a joint mission to get a beat up shell-of-a-craft into the air and fly it to Lucent’s moon as if we’re tourists. Are we in agreement? Can we either clear or reject Charlotte Grayson as our mechanic? We need to know tonight. Time is growing short, and I’ll have to find another mechanic if she doesn’t wash.”

  Electra patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry my dear… I’ll get this woman’s Earth history by this evening. Trust me. If she was vetted for the Miss Milky Way competition, then gaining access to her past will be easy.”

  “And we shall do the same from this end,” Gilla announced for himself and Clitus. “If Ms. Grayson has ever committed any kind of criminal act on or near any Oceanus’ jurisdiction, we’ll get the facts.”

  “Then we have a ship and a likely mechanic to get her running,” Datron rubbed his hands together in expectation. “All we have to do is file a flight plan as former male beauty pageant friends who’re going on a short sojourn as sightseers. We’ll launch our ship, land on Lucent’s moon, take out the bad guys, destroy the nasty mind controlling gemstones, and come home. Simple!” he sarcastically finished.

  ****

  Charlie stood at the edge of the airfield, gazed down at the electronic pass she’d just been issued, and checked her directions. It was a good thing such devices held a universal translation code so she could read her map in Earth English. So far, she hadn’t had to locate a paid translator to speak to anyone or read any menu or store sign. As badly spoken as the English language was in many instances, she could still understand what was being said. As she’d learned from her conversations with Datron Mann, many attributed Earth’s sudden popularity here to Keir Trask’s winning the Mr. Interstellar Feller contest. Rumor relayed that once he returned from his year-long stint in his reigning position, every planet that could politically do so hopped on the love-Earth bandwagon.

  In every shop she’d passed on the way to the airfield, Earth items such as clothing, pottery, and jewelry were sold. Even food was being hailed as authentic Earth Rigatoni, genuine Earth Szechuan, or indisputably the best Earth Souvlaki to be had.

  One shop boasted having the best Earth Colcannon. The dishes weren’t advertised as Italian, Chinese, Greek, or Irish―they’d erroneously been blended into one main culinary form that all citizens from her world supposedly ingested on a regular basis. On Earth, folks would be laughing at the misconception. The mistake was exceptionally humorous since Oceanus had once been peddled as being Earth’s intellectual, cultural, and evolutionary superior in every way.

  The citizens of this planet should have recognized Earth was a melting pot of many cultures. She’d never had Greek food but wouldn’t turn it down if offered. Still, let one prestigious male beauty competition winner come from this end of the galaxy and everyone wanted to claim Earth as a suburb of Oceanus. If one didn’t dress, speak, eat, or act like somebody from her planet, they simply weren’t fashionable.

  She took it all in then blew it off. Sooner or later, the new would wear off and all the Oceanuns around her would go back to seeking their own cultural identities. Until then, she’d finally managed to garner some small bit of attention as having come from the most popular place in the galaxy. She’d only been on Oceanus a few days and hadn’t had time to see the planet due to her judging responsibilities. Once the so-called sentient beings around her found out she hailed from Los Angeles, she was barraged with questions—ranging from what the climate was really like to whether she’d actually ever seen a cowboy riding through the streets on an ‘equine’. Some stereo-types died hard.

  All in all, she’d thoroughly enjoyed her ride on the public shuttle system though she’d somehow been pegged as an Earther and been set upon by fashion-crazed tourists and locals almost immediately. One woman with whom she spoke even claimed Oceanus had originated opera, Puccini in particular since the great baritone, Keir Trask, had sung it for the talent portion of his Mr. Interstellar Feller competition.

  With all that over now, she wanted to get a look at a first class piece of flight power in the form of an Oceanus starfighter. There was no better example of that than the huge bird-of-prey-shaped craft known as the Valiant.

  The Valiant was easily the largest vessel on the field. It had been a chore finding it only because there were so many beings touri
ng the area, making visibility at a distance difficult. Plus there were so many other craft parked nearby. Service vessels of all shapes, sizes, and colors hovered slowly around all the other ships to refuel and clean the larger ones. The entire area buzzed with crewmembers and tourists dodging each other constantly. Though the space was larger than ten football fields, it was packed solid.

  She saw why Datron had given her a pass that served as both a ticket and a navigational tool. Since she no longer needed the small, square computer screen for either purpose, she tucked it in an inside pocket of her tall boot.

  From the outside, the Valiant held no surprises. Its polished, silver-colored hull gleamed in the bright sunlight. The vessel’s name was scribbled out in hieroglyphs even King Tut couldn’t have transcribed. Evidently, Oceanus law enforcement types hadn’t yielded the names of their vessels to Earth English, which was probably just as well. Exalted Oceanuns seemed to be losing their distinction—simply because one of their citizens had won a male beauty contest. And to think she’d heard that Trask believed his people would shun him for competing. This still left some amount of confusion in her mind as to why the man had ever done such a thing in the first place, Datron Mann’s explanation notwithstanding.

  Thinking of the captain of the Valiant caused a chain reaction tingle in her anatomy. She shoved aside last night’s image of the sculpted Valkyrian. Right now, she just wanted to be plain old Charlotte Grayson, sightseer. Not Charlie, the lusting former pageant queen. She didn’t want to keep thinking, as she had for hours since Datron had left her hotel room, about that bronzed muscle, sinew, and god-like stamina that could have been sampled in bed had she just been a little more easy. But her adamant decision to get him out of the room had been for the best. They didn’t need to start something she couldn’t finish.

  ****

  Datron stepped from the starboard side of the bridge.

  With recent renovations, the Valiant’s crew now numbered a staggering six-hundred, fifty-three beings, all of which were quite busy. His ship was one of the four largest law enforcement fighters in the fleet. Since the three others of the same class were on patrol, his received a grand share of the tourists’ attention.

  All his personnel, he was proud to say, maintained their duties while professionally and politely answering questions from milling sightseers. These curious visitors, from star systems all over the galaxy, had to show their passes if they wanted a tour through the Valiant’s interior. Guards at the entrance to the airfield were only supposed to allow so many guests onto the field at one time. Today they were rapidly reaching visitation limits. With the Miss Milky Way pageant over, visitors to the planet looked for other diversion.

  Gazing out through the front viewing port of the ship’s bridge, he smiled at the milieu of creatures, humanoid or not, converging on the Valiant. As he watched them scurrying about some distance below, it seemed they couldn’t help but gawk at the large vessel which stood out as a shining example of law enforcement technology and state-of-the-art flying capability. Normally on such occasions, he’d keep his position on the bridge and assign duties based upon what part of the craft needed maintenance. Today, he’d make an exception to his standard responsibility.

  With a ship the size of the Valiant, some system or other always needed to be checked and re-checked. Every nut and bolt had to be perfect in order for them to take off for their next scheduled tour-of-duty, a duty that had been surreptitiously pushed back because of his new mission. Other vessels on patrol had been sent on tasks with an anticipated extended stay in space. This circumstance gave the appearance of making the Valiant late for patrol, by default. He knew all this had been Kryllian’s doing, though it had been well hidden from his crew and all the enforcement personnel who worked in and around the airfield.

  Keeping the mission uppermost in his mind, he exited the bridge leaving Clitus in charge. He needed to find Charlie Grayson, somewhere among the throngs, and personally take her aside to better evaluate her actual knowledge of a starfighter. Her dazzling display of mechanical data aside, he wanted to guide her through his ship and determine her real expertise. Even if her credentials checked out, he was the one who’d be responsible for the lives of the three others chosen for the mission. Before he’d put his friends’ safety in Charlotte’s tiny hands, he wanted to see her mettle, not to mention seeing her face and watching her expression when she viewed the work being done on his ship.

  Sometimes, a background check just wasn’t enough to glean a person’s character. Occasionally one had to actually witness their response while being questioned. Given the seriousness of this mission, this was one of those times. Though Charlie wouldn’t be among the crew or even know why she would be making the shuttle flight-worthy, the position for which she’d be hired was critical.

  ****

  Charlotte saw the winged behemoth walking toward her and stopped in her tracks. This was the first time she’d ever seen Captain Datron Mann in the full light of an Oceanus sun. If she’d thought him mouth-drooling gorgeous before, he now drifted into the ranks of deified immortality.

  His wings were folded back in what appeared to be an automatic fashion. Probably a position meant to keep them from bumping those in the crowds. She estimated that if spread, the wingspan would reach nearly seven feet on either side of the captain’s over six-feet of rippling, muscular body.

  Every woman he walked by, regardless of age or size, literally gawked. She knew her stupefied look resembled theirs, though she attempted to plaster on a nonchalant expression. When her mouth went dry and her heartbeat hastened, she gave up. The upper part of his body was utterly brawny and well-defined, sans any hair to shadow the definition. He even put the tall, megalithic Oceanuns working in the area to shame. His golden hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck. His black uniform pants bonded to his massive quadriceps just like paint molded to the outside of an engine block. The tall black boots covering the bottom portion of his limbs shimmered as he moved and perfectly matched his belt. She could just imagine that while on patrol some type of stun blaster would be draped at his side. Something in the girlish part of her brain visualized him carrying an ancient broadsword hung from a leather strap. In her imagination, the medieval weapon would loop over his shoulder and across his chest. He’d be the very epitome of a Merlin-like mythic warrior.

  Or maybe he could pass for some archangel depicted in picture books from her days at the orphanage. He could be Gabriel or Michael, a forbidding presence to strike down all who worshipped evil.

  As he approached, she tried to stand straighter, as if doing so could make her minute presence more commanding. Why she cared what he thought of her without all the stage makeup, wigs, and ball gowns, she didn’t know. But she’d taken great care with her appearance and wanted him to appreciate it. That wish was quickly dashed as he walked right by her, glancing around the crowds as if he was trying to find someone.

  “Captain!” she called out. “Were you looking for me?”

  ****

  Datron stopped in his tracks and felt his eyes automatically widen to almost twice their normal size when he heard her voice. His mind registered having seen what he assumed was a pretty teenage girl. He slowly turned and got a much better look. In that instant, the entire universe—all the people, planets, and star systems included, simply melted away. There on the tarmac stood the sweetest little piece of femininity he’d ever beheld. He slowly walked forward until he stood close to her.

  “Charlie?” he choked out.

  “I know. I look a little different without all that heavy makeup. The Miss Milky Way sponsors insisted I wear it. They tell me I look like someone’s kid sister when I don’t.”

  His mind utterly rejected that description. This sweet little treasure was no one’s adolescent sibling. His body responded the way any man’s would if visited by a siren. Charlie was unreservedly and naturally lovely. But now she exuded innocence. Her lovely, heart-shaped face was framed by a thick fal
l of highlighted, tawny-hair. Currently parted in the middle it hung down to the small swell of her breasts. Several sections had been pulled back and were clipped behind her head. The style left her face fully visible and her clear complexion shone in the sunlight as brightly as any precious crystal. Her blue-green eyes resembled the color of the ocean on a hot summer day, and he wanted to dive into their depths and play there. Her cute nose tilted slightly and had a soft spattering of freckles that made him want to lean down and kiss them, then do the same to her full, bow-shaped mouth. His left hand lifted to touch the slant of her perfect cheek. Then duty reared its ugly face.

  He stepped back to quell the urge to take her in his arms. Never in his entire life had anyone’s appearance so shocked him that he couldn’t control his behavior. Again, he was flummoxed that anyone described her as ‘someone’s kid sister’. Although, he’d walked by her thinking the same thing. The vee-neck, pewter-colored sweater and matching skin-tight leggings she wore defined her as a petite, perfectly proportioned morsel—fully grown and ready to be sampled. From the tip of her shimmering head to the gray suede boots that came up to her knees, Charlie looked like a star-goddess, descending from the firmament. Certainly not a child.

  “Datron, are you okay?”

  He shook his head to dispel fantasy images of the two of them making love in the hollow of a crescent moon. He stored that dream away for later. “Yeah, I’m fine. I… I just didn’t expect to find you here. Like this.”

  She gazed down at her outfit and shrugged. “Well, I’m here now. What about that tour? I’m anxious to see the Valiant’s engine and to find out if my summation of the gas ratio is correct.”

  Again, he almost lost his voice. Was this shining little spirit still his Charlie? And why, by the light of the two moons of Oceanus, was he thinking of her as his?

  “Uh…come on. I’ll show you the way,” he muttered and lifted his hand to indicate the direction of the Valiant’s gangway.