Voyage of the Valkyrie

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by Robert Horseman




  Voyage of the Valkyrie

  By Robert Horseman

  Copyright © 2014-2015 Robert Horseman

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To my wife and family—Thanks for your love and support.

  To all my friends on WRITING.COM—Thanks for all your encouragement.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1, Valkyrie

  Chapter 2, Close Quarters

  Chapter 3, Encounter

  Chapter 4, Confinement

  Chapter 5, Acting Division Chief

  Chapter 6, Contact

  Chapter 7, Overtures

  Chapter 8, Oath

  Chapter 9, Rogue Planet

  Chapter 10, Jump

  Chapter 11, Defense Platform

  Chapter 12, Contact

  Chapter 13, Platform 2

  Chapter 14, The Core

  Chapter 15, Battle Zone

  Chapter 16, Rendezvous

  Chapter 17, Interrogation

  Chapter 18, Inducements

  Chapter 19, Con Game

  Chapter 20, The Crew

  Chapter 21, Revival

  Chapter 22, Homeward Bound

  Chapter 23, Board of Inquiry—Two Months Later

  Afterward

  Chapter 1, Valkyrie

  Ensign Mackenzie Pickett hesitated outside the Executive Officer’s suite, trying to calm her jumping nerves. She shook her arms and rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and reached for the announcement panel. Before her hand made contact, however, the door slid open and a gruff voice said, “You’re late, Pickett. Get in here.”

  She straightened her back, marched in, and saluted. The Executive Officer sat at a small desk covered with data pads and didn’t look up.

  “Explain why you are late, Ensign.”

  “Late, sir? I just arrived aboard, and I’m here five minutes before my scheduled time, sir.”

  He looked up, stood, and walked around his desk to within a foot of her face. She kept her eyes straight ahead, and couldn’t help but notice that he barely came up to her nose in height. “You arrived aboard this vessel ten minutes ago. What is your first duty upon arriving at a new duty station, Ensign?”

  “To report to the Executive Officer, sir.”

  “It takes a maximum of two minutes to walk from the docking port to my office, and yet it took you ten minutes. Would you care to explain your lack of adequate time management?”

  “Sir, I’m sorry sir. I dropped my gear in the officer’s lounge on B-deck on my way up. I didn’t want to drag it all over the ship, and then I got a little turned around. I also had to find out from the crew where you were, sir.”

  “That’s no excuse, Ensign. See that it does not happen again.”

  “Yes sir.” Thank the stars I don’t report directly to you. In her mind’s eye he had taken on a reddish hue, and she suppressed a shudder.

  I am Lieutenant James Spragg, Ensign, the Executive Officer of this vessel. The Captain may set our objectives, but I run this boat. Is that clear?”

  “Yes sir.”

  You may call me XO and nothing else, even out of my earshot. Understood?”

  “Yes sir.” She’d been dressed down by enough upper-classmen at the academy to know when it was just part of training, and when it was being done out of spite. She didn’t know this man, but she’d bet on the latter.

  “I have reviewed your personnel file, Ensign, and see that you received high marks in navigation at the academy. You also have a recommendation in your file from the commandant. Very impressive, but it carries no weight with me. You will have to prove your worth.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Retrieve your gear and report to your department chief in navigation immediately on B-deck forward. Dismissed.”

  “Yes sir, thank you sir.” She did a smart about-face and marched out the door. It snicked shut behind her, and she slumped against the far corridor wall. An enlisted orderly in a gray jump suit pushed a laundry cart past her and whispered, “He does it to everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

  She stared at the man’s back as he walked away, and whispered, “Thanks.”

  ***

  Mac had looked up the ship’s specifications when she received her duty assignment. The UDA ship Valkyrie was an old corvette, about fifty-eight meters long, with five decks and a maximum crew of fifty-four. She was undoubtedly space-worthy, as every ship in the United Defense Alliance was. But she was also one of the smallest and most unusual combat ships in the fleet at thirty-one years old, and her last major refit had been more than eleven years ago. If any UDA ship belonged in permanent lay-up, this was it. Still, the ship appeared to be clean if a bit worn and tired, and what she had seen of the crew had not hinted of any lax attitudes.

  She walked aft and dropped down an access tube to the officer’s mess and lounge, grabbed her gear, and made her way to her duty station. Apparently the XO expected her to lug her damn kit all over the ship.

  Her Synesthesia had flared to life in record time, assigning the XO a deep red color. She was one of the one in two-thousand or so with the condition, a neurological phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory pathway led to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second. In her case, her subconscious seemed to pick colors for some people, mostly those that gave her some kind of emotional response. In her experience, red was someone to be wary of.

  At least the bridge was relatively easy to find. All she had to do was head forward. She also noticed that, like most ships in the UDA fleet she had studied, this one was divided up into accommodation sections by rank. The uppermost A-deck where she had found the XO had door signage that indicated senior officers. She had no doubt that, as an ensign, she’d find her berth somewhere in the bowels of the old girl.

  She palmed the access panel adjacent to the bridge’s pressure door, and stepped inside after it slid open. What a museum, she thought, looking around. Unlike most modern UDA vessels with their command and control systems buried in safe locations well inside the ship, the bridge on this old boat was located in the nose, with the navigation suite on a sunken level at the front on the starboard side. She liked it this way, as it included a large viewport independent of sensors and pickups. Would it still feel that way if they saw action? Hard to know, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out quite yet. In one way, at least, the bridge was comfortable. It looked a lot like the antiquated simulators she had trained on at the academy.

  Mac walked forward through the bridge past appraising glances from the duty officers, and took the six steps down to the navigation level. The Navigation Officer was easy to identify from the stars-over-horizon emblem on his collar, combined with one-and-a-half gold bars on his sleeve indicating a lieutenant junior grade. He turned at her approach, and they exchanged a formal salute.

  As if to contradict the XO, he smiled and extended his hand. “You must be Ensign Pickett. Good to have you aboard. I’m Lieutenant Avery Bain, the navigation officer. We’ve been running a bit shorthanded in the nav department, and we’ve all been looking forward to normal shifts for a change. Please, at ease, Ensign.”

  She relaxed. He was medium everything, height, weight and, well maybe not everything. His white tunic was stretched over a broad chest. She repressed a grin and
said, “I just came from the XO, who sent me straight down here.”

  He looked at her duffle and shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? I tell you what, I’ll have Ensign Davis here escort you down to your cabin so you can get yourself situated. Come back up here when you’re ready and I’ll brief you on the watch rotation and your duties.”

  She smiled in relief. Her department chief appeared to be someone she could work with. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Oh, before you go, Captain Horne instructed me to have you stop by his suite. Do that before you come back here.”

  “Aye, sir. Is that a normal procedure?”

  He chuckled. “No, Ensign, it sure isn’t.”

  A young man stood from the nav console and extended a hand. “I’m Ensign Davis, and I’ll be your tour guide.” He was a hair taller than herself, with close-cropped brown hair and a lean athletic build. He grabbed her duffle and she followed him back through the bridge. As he put his hand on the door’s palm lock, he turned to her and frowned. “You look familiar. I must have seen you around campus. I’m just a year out.”

  Although Mac couldn’t place his face, he could be right. There had been several hundred upper classmen, but she had been too focused on her studies to pay them much attention. She smiled and lied, “Yes, you look a bit familiar too.”

  “I was a weapons specialist, but the nav department needed a body, so here I am. You’ll fill out the rotation, and like the lieutenant said, we are glad to have you.” After following him into the corridor she asked, “So, what do I call you?”

  He turned and regarded her with serious eyes. “Everyone just calls me Davis. It must be something about being the low grunt on the totem pole. Truly I’m getting sick of it. If you don’t mind, I’d rather you call me Cale.”

  “Kale? Like the vegetable?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Funny, like I haven’t heard that one before. No, Cale with a C.”

  “Sorry. What’s it mean?”

  “My parents thought to give me a strong name. It means bold, for whatever that’s worth.”

  “And are you?”

  “Bold? Well there’s always the possibility, I suppose. What’s your handle?”

  “Ensign Mackenzie Pickett, but please call me Mac. And before you ask, yes, it’s a male name, and it means favored one. The XO didn’t seem to think so, though. What can you tell me about him? He seems a bit, how should I say this, tightly wound?”

  He laughed, “Yeah that’s a nice way to put it. He used to be a decent guy, or so I’ve heard. Not particularly bright though, and he got passed over for lieutenant commander. He’s taken to letting his frustration out on the crew. Try to stay out of his way.”

  “Got it. Thanks for the intel.” She paused, then asked, “I’m supposed to go see the Captain after I get settled. What can you tell me about him?”

  “The old man? Not a thing. The XO runs the ship, as I’m sure he told you. I’ve never spoken to the Captain personally. You’ll have to tell me about him later.”

  “Really? Then why am I being singled out for an audience?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Chapter 2, Close Quarters

  Her cabin was on C-deck about amidships, starboard side. It wasn’t as far down as she’d expected, so she assumed the enlisted personnel would be berthed on D and E decks. The room was tiny; so small that Cale had to squeeze in behind her. It made the XO’s suite look palatial by comparison. At least it had a private head though, and she wouldn’t trade that for a bigger cabin no matter what.

  “I’m on the other side, one bay farther forward,” said Cale. “Yours is the same size as all the rest of ours, ensigns and enlisted. The head is tiny too, so you’ll just have to learn how to do it standing up.”

  “Do what standing up?” she asked, not giving away any hint of amusement.

  His face turned red. “Sorry, that was supposed to be funny. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Relax, Cale, we’re both nav ensigns, and you have seniority on at least one other, that being me.”

  He brightened. “Oh yeah, I hadn’t thought of it that way. You’re right, I can give orders now.”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  He grinned, “Hey, it was your idea.”

  Mac smiled and hopped up onto the single bunk. “Damn this thing is hard. How do you all sleep?”

  “Easy. The bunk has gravity controls. Dial it down to a quarter-gee and you’ll float off to sleep. Listen, I’ve got to get back to the bridge. See you up there later?”

  “Right. Unpacking won’t take long.”

  She watched his back as he walked away down the corridor. He seemed nice enough, but it was a bit too early to judge the man. She’d learned her lessons on that the hard way. Unfortunately, her subconscious had already assigned him a greenish tint, and that usually meant trouble of a different sort.

  Turning back to her compartment, she surveyed her new domain. A small writing desk folded into a wall niche, and a fold-up bunk, a narrow closet, and a three-quarter bath rounded out the furnishings. If she folded everything up she figured she could touch both walls with her arms extended. With everything open she could stand in just one spot. She’d be a contortionist by the time this tour was over. After dumping her duffle onto the bunk, she set about stowing her gear.

  Five minutes later the unpacking was done, and she sat at her desk with her personal data pad. The ship’s system accepted her credentials, so she pulled up the ship’s schematic and familiarized herself with the layout.

  ***

  It took several minutes to navigate her way to the Captain’s suite, since she had to stand aside every time a senior officer passed her in the corridors, and there seemed to be an endless supply. It was back up on A-deck, opposite of the XO’s quarters. For the second time in one day she stood in the same spot willing her courage to appear. Sweat beaded on her neck as she touched the announcement panel. A gravelly voice said, “Enter,” and the door slid aside.

  Mac walked smartly into the Captain’s office, stopped the prescribed distance from his desk, and saluted. “Ensign Mackenzie Pickett reporting as ordered, sir.”

  The Captain stood, returned the salute, and extended a hand. “At ease, sailor. I’m Commander Douglas Horne. Welcome to my boat.”

  She relaxed and took his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir, although by all accounts this is an unexpected honor.” He was moderately tall, maybe one-hundred-ninety centimeters, with graying hair and craggy features.

  “Not at all, Ensign. Have a seat and I’ll explain.” He sat back behind his desk and she took the guest chair. “Did you know I requested you personally?”

  Mac was taken aback, and it must have shown on her face. “No, sir.”

  “The Commandant of the academy is a friend of my family. He lets me look at the performance evaluations of all new academy graduates. Sometimes I make a crew request, and if I’m lucky I get the person. This year that was you. Do you know why?’

  “No, sir.”

  “Because you aced Hargrove’s navigation evaluation. That’s never happened before. Not once. Not ever.”

  Mac sat back in stunned surprise. Evaluation scores weren’t shared with the graduating ensigns for some reason, and this was news to her. She blinked and stared at him. “Really?”

  He chuckled. “Yes really. You have a rare talent for it, and your other evals were pretty damn good too. We’re lucky to have you. Now for the bad news.”

  “Sir?”

  “You’re the low person on the officer’s ladder on the worst piece of space junk in the UDA. At least that’s how it looks on paper. The reality, as I hope you will discover for yourself, is quite different. This ship has been assigned independent duty. We won’t tag along under an admiral’s flag doing security patrols. We’ll be out there getting dirt under our fingernails, and as a result we have an opportunity to distinguish ourselves. The risks are a lot higher, but so are the rewards for success.
The results of failure can sink a career just as fast. All I ask is that you do your best. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, of course, sir.”

  “Very well. After we leave dock, I will brief the entire crew on our mission. Until then, familiarize yourself with every aspect of ship operations, not just your own. Tour the ship when you’re off watch and ask questions. That kind of information may save your life someday, maybe all our lives. Assume your duty station, Ensign. Dismissed.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  She stood and saluted again, turned and walked out. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face the entire walk back to the bridge. She’d aced Hargrove’s navigation eval. It was almost surreal.

  ***

  Commander Douglas Horne, Captain of the Valkyrie, stared after Ensign Pickett as the door slid closed behind her. He chuckled to himself as he considered his amazing good fortune in getting her on his crew. Hargrove’s evaluation and the Academy Commandant’s recommendation would have put her on his radar in any case, but her Mental Agility Profile, the ability to think clearly, flexibly and strategically under pressure placed her in the top two percent of all academy graduates. She would never know that of course, as the UDA had no interest in having newly hatched ensigns be too full of themselves. That was also the reason they weren’t typically informed of their final evaluation scores. But the downside to a high MAP score was that such people had a tendency to go outside the usual bounds of military regulations. A few had even gone rogue. He would have to keep a close eye on her.

  Chapter 3, Encounter

  “Attention all hands, attention all hands. Stand by for a message from the Captain.”

  Mac was jarred awake by the announcement, and sat up rubbing her eyes. Ten days had elapsed since she’d arrived aboard ship, and three days since leaving space-dock at Serenity. She was just starting to get acclimated to the watch rotation of three hours on, three off, then another three on, and fifteen off. Unlike the historical days of naval ships plying the earth’s oceans, the watches you stood didn’t matter because there was no specific day and night. You selected your night somewhere in your fifteen hours of down time. Not that she had much down time though. She’d taken the Captain’s advice and spent almost all of her off-duty time, when she wasn’t sleeping, studying the ship, familiarizing herself with the crew, and spending time in the navigation simulator to keep sharp. She’d even received permission from the chief petty officer to dine a few times with the enlisted. Those people were mostly techs, and they were critical to maintaining and running the ship. To ignore them would be like cutting off your right hand.

 

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