by Britt Ringel
Naslund looked up to Lochlain with eyes filled with hope. “You’re the only captain that’s contacted me. Please, I’m desperate to leave. I’d work for free in the beginning if I had to.”
Lochlain’s eyes lit up but Brooke shut him down. “You would be paid, Mr. Naslund,” she insisted. “Do you have proof of your credentials?”
The man scrambled to pull his datapad from the inside pocket of his jacket. It was an Eternity 3500, the bleeding edge of technology. He flicked his finger across the screen toward the datapad Brooke had produced. An instant later, she had his information and began to examine it.
“Assuming your certification is acceptable,” Lochlain said, “when would you be ready to leave?”
“I have to show up at the exhibition tonight,” Naslund answered remorsefully. “I could go as soon as tomorrow though. Dad’s schedule doesn’t have anything for me until the day after tomorrow.” He looked up pitifully at his would-be captain. “Please wait for me.”
Lochlain looked over to Brooke, who nodded approval. He reached across the table to shake the young man’s hand. “Standard crew share for the first run. If we both like what we see, you get increased to a second engineering officer’s share.”
Naslund eagerly reached out but Lochlain pulled his hand up and warned, “Zanshin is just getting started, Casper, and we have a lot of initial operating costs. You’re not going to be earning much from your shares for a while.”
“I don’t care, Captain. I just want the opportunity to grow into the trade.”
Finally they shook. “Done. We’re leaving tomorrow evening. Please board at noon so Mercer can give you the tour before we cast off.”
Naslund suddenly struggled to contain his excitement and he looked as if he might explode. “Thank you! I’ll be there exactly at noon, Captain!” His head jerked toward Brooke and he practically shouted, “I’m looking forward to working with you, ma’am.”
Both Lochlain and Brooke cringed but let the enthusiasm slide. They watched him nearly vault from his chair and run toward the exit as if he were afraid they might change their minds.
* * *
“He’s going to be a handful,” Lochlain said. “He’s barely potty-trained.”
“I appreciate his zeal,” Brooke replied. Energetic engineers were happy to work longer hours.
“That’ll fade quickly enough.”
Brooke watched Naslund’s breakneck pace toward the restaurant’s foyer. He nearly ran over another man headed in the opposite direction. The man, older than Naslund by at least a decade and dressed casually in fashions more popular in the trailing portion of the Federation, deftly avoided the collision and watched with a slight smirk as the hurried man disappeared out the exit. When the new arrival turned back toward the dining area, he made immediate eye contact with Brooke.
She felt a chill run down her spine under the handsome man’s stare. She felt he did not intend his glare to be intimidating but the man in the unusual garb carried an authority beyond his thirty-odd years. He strode directly for their table and Brooke noticed that even Lochlain had been set on edge. Some unseen trigger had brought him to attention. Brooke squeezed her left arm to her vest to lightly brush against the sidearm nestled underneath. The contact was a comfort against the man’s predatory approach. When he reached their table, he surprised Brooke with a truly affable smile.
“I guess I’m the next contestant?” the man surmised, still beaming at the pair. His accent further clouded Brooke’s initial impressions. She could not place the unusual blend of cultures.
“Yes, please take a seat,” Lochlain answered. “Although we’re actually looking for two hands so the other guy wasn’t your competition. He isn’t even a deck officer, just an over-enthusiastic engineer.”
The man looked back toward the exit and offered wistfully, “To be young again, eh?” He returned his gaze to the table and to Brooke. “So if he’s Captain Lochlain, then you are…?”
She felt herself blush at the man’s singular attention. He did not seem to be flirting but the air he carried was certainly exotic. She combatted her initial reaction and turned on the cold professional inside her. “Mercer Brooke, Chief Engineer. What was your last ship, mister…?”
“Please, call me Jack, Miss Brooke. My last command was the brig, Wrathful.” He made a trifling gesture as if commanding a ship was no big deal.
Brooke’s eyebrows shot skyward. “A warship? You sailed in a corporate navy? Which one?” Doubt flooded into her as her intuition sounded warning claxons. Her first instinct had been correct. This was a dangerous man and if he was involved with Appiation or Tengying, it would be no coincidence. The weight of her sidearm felt immensely reassuring.
Seemingly unaware of her trepidation, he shook his head and turned melancholy. Long, brown hair escaped a low ponytail to brush the sides of his face before coming to rest just below his jaw. He fit the bill of pirate more than naval officer.
From across the table, Lochlain took the man in and immediately struck upon the obvious answer. “You were a privateer.”
“Yup, Captain,” the other man affirmed with a short upward jerk of his chin. His demeanor held no disrespect but Brooke detected a deep familiarity with being in the company of important people.
“But not anymore?” she urged him on with the question.
“I finally got tired of war,” came the answer after a short pause. Brooke hoped more explanation would follow but the wistful look had returned.
“It’s a respectable business,” Lochlain pointed out. “Even if you’re finished fighting corporate battles, why aren’t you joining a regular freighter crew?”
The suddenly pensive man cast eyes over the tables nearby before leaning back and folding his arms. “Because I’m a sensor-comms guy at heart and nobody in the Federation wants the voice of their ship to have a Brevic accent.”
Chapter 19
Brooke nearly spurted her drink over the table. She choked before finally swallowing. “You’re a ‘Vic?” she asked in stunned disbelief. She had never met someone from the Brevic Republic before.
“That’s what’s coloring your accent,” Lochlain remarked with a final realization.
The man dipped his right shoulder in concession. He almost appeared bashful. “I could never get rid of it. I guess you can take the boy out of the Republic but you can’t take the Republic out of the boy.”
Lochlain smiled at the words but said, “Okay, I can understand why a reputable shipping company might balk at placing you behind a communications panel but with your experience I would think captains in my line of work would be fighting over you.”
The corners of the Brevic’s mouth turned upward again. “I might also technically be a deserter.” He was grinning now, completely unashamed of his most recent revelation. “Not with the privateer outfit,” he clarified quickly. “I fulfilled my contract and at that time we mutually agreed it was best to part ways.” He swept back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “However, I may not have finished my active duty service commitment to the Brevic navy.”
Brooke considered the man’s age and realized he surely had seen action in the last conflict between the Republic and its archrival, the Hollaran Commonwealth. She reached out and touched his arm. “That was a brutal war, Jack. I don’t blame you for deserting.”
The man winced at her touch or perhaps her words. His eyes lifted from her hand to her hazel eyes as a shudder passed through him. “It doesn’t matter why I left. All that matters now is that I’m unemployed and running out of credits.”
“No privateer’s pension?” Lochlain asked curiously. A captaincy of an armed vessel in a privateer outfit should have at least commanded a nice settlement package.
“Revoked for the most part, due to what they deemed as avoidable damage to Wrathful.” The privateer’s jawline became firm for a moment. “I accepted a second pass that I probably shouldn’t have.” He grew silent, perhaps reliving the skirmish. After several heartbeats,
he looked to Lochlain. “So, that’s my life in a nutshell. I’m out of work and out of credits and a Brevic deserter.” He let the brutal honesty sink in before surprising Brooke once again. “Let’s get something straight though. I need work but despite my checkered past, I don’t want to hurt anybody. I don’t exactly relish the idea of running drugs or worse.” His eyes cast downward and he said quietly, “I used to be the guy that hunted smugglers.” The wry smile slowly reappeared. “Of course, that means I have a good idea how the hunters think and that ought to be helpful to you. Plus, I’ve got over ten years of experience on a bridge including a few years of command experience.”
“You’re hired,” Brooke declared immediately.
Lochlain stared blankly at her but her return look told him that she would harbor no argument.
“I don’t care about his past. We all have one,” she reasoned. She pointed to Zanshin’s newest crewmember. “He’s exactly what we need. We’re short-handed and Jack has more experience on a ship than even I do.” She turned to him with a companionable smile and lowered her voice. “And, Jack, I don’t want to run drugs either. I don’t mind breaking the rules but I stop when it means hurting innocent people.” Her dialogue turned inward as she promised herself, “I’m done hurting people.”
“Well,” Lochlain said as he reached his hand over the table, “looks like we have a second deck officer. Standard crewmember’s share for the first run and then a deckie’s share thereafter. We’re casting off tomorrow so ship’s leave ends at noon.”
“That’ll give me plenty of time to see the sights,” the man casually retorted.
Lochlain chuckled lightly. “We never did get your full name.”
“It’s Truesworth, Jack Truesworth.”
* * *
Lochlain and Brooke walked down Zanshin’s forward spine toward their quarters. The meal at The Lighthouse had been surprisingly expensive given the disappointing food quality. During their dinner, both searched the orbital’s network pages to shop for supplies that would see them through to Vulsia. The journey, similar to the Svea-Ancera trip, would last roughly four days and three of those would be in tunnel space. Lochlain ordered the cheapest fresh provisions he could find and arranged for the shipment to arrive in the morning while Brooke secured maintenance items to replenish what had been expended during their first trip.
Brooke’s head was still down in her datapad as they moved through Zanshin’s spine. She was scanning Naslund’s application again. “The more I look at Casper’s credentials, the more I like him. He graduated with honors. Right now, he’s a teacher’s assistant for an electrical engineering course and a theory of trade class at Nimiset U.”
Lochlain liked the improvement in her mood with the new crew additions but offered caution. “I just hope he’s not disappointed when the reality of smuggling meets his fantasy of smuggling. I’m also a little concerned about how his father will react once he learns his son has run away. He’s going to be looking for him, which means he might end up looking for this ship.”
“He’ll have to get in line,” Brooke noted through a smirk.
“Speaking of, I’m filing our sailplan as destined for Crucis. I’ll request the course change to Vulsia after we’re underway and I’m sure as hell not updating our crew roster until we reach the next system. That’s another violation, of course, but Casper’s dad will undoubtedly search crew directories on out-going ships in Ancera.” He hemmed briefly. “I just hope having an extra engineer is worth the potential trouble.”
“I need him,” Brooke answered simply. “Right now, I wouldn’t feel safe if it were only me. Casper’s family life might be a mess but he has a fantastic foundation in engineering. If he keeps his enthusiasm, he could become a real asset.” She turned her head to glance back at Lochlain as they passed down the darkened corridor. “It’s not like your sensorman isn’t coming with his own baggage.”
“I like Jack,” Lochlain said. “At first I found him a little intimidating, and I’ve met some really intimidating people in my life, but he seems like a pretty decent guy. I still can’t believe he’s really a ‘Vic.”
Brooke nodded knowingly. “I hope that doesn’t come back to bite us. He said it himself, ‘you can’t take the Republic out of the boy.’ Whatever we do, we cannot sail into Republic space. If they catch him on our ship…”
“What?” Lochlain asked flippantly. “They’ll hang us twice?”
They climbed down the short, four-step flight of stairs leading to the central compartments. Lochlain noticed that Brooke had, once again, left her official quarters behind. As they passed the entertainment lounge, he peeked inside and skidded to a halt. “There,” he said insistently. “Look.” He pointed at the holo-table and his voice became indignant. “It’s running again.”
Brooke entered the compartment and sat at the gaming table. As soon as she tapped a button, the hologram of the Asian woman appeared anew. Her neutral expression gave an air of formality but the melody of her voice softened her substantially. “Greetings, Captain. I am pleased to inform you that Shinshin has arrived inside the Ctama system.”
“That’s Engineer Shi,” Lochlain said.
“She’s beautiful,” Brooke admired. She cast a sideways glance at Lochlain and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You sure this is just a trading game?” She opened the virtual freighter’s logs and read the latest summary report. “Why did you dive to Ctama?” she critiqued playfully as she began to manipulate the controls. “What kind of ship is Shinshin?”
“It’s a Tuoma freighter. Don’t ask me what the name means.” Lochlain sighed and moved a chair to sit beside her. He studied the game’s report and snorted. “I don’t know why I’m in Ctama, I didn’t order us there. It’s an old game, I think. I guess it glitched out. Check my cargo load.”
“Shinshin sounds Mandarin,” Brooke mumbled while sorting through the various status screens inside the game. A moment later, she had absorbed the information. “I see now. You were trying to get to Tarandi. That’s basically the opposite direction of where you ended up.” She flipped to the navigation screen before asking, “Just how old is this game? I’ve never heard of it.”
“I have no idea,” Lochlain answered. He pointed at the course he had plotted. According to his travel plan, Shinshin was supposed to dive into Tarandi in another thirty-one hours. The ship clearly had other thoughts. “Maybe I entered the commands wrong. I’m not exactly an avid gamer like you.”
Brooke extracted her datapad from a cargo pocket. She took a quick picture of Shinshin’s scripted characters on the game screen and searched for a translation. “It means ‘Confidence.’ I kind of like that.” She placed the pad onto the table and unpaused the game when suddenly the information display minimized on its own. Brooke frowned. “What the heck?”
The screen flickered and Brooke assumed she was watching the archaic game’s death throes. Instead, another woman appeared, this one wearing a grave expression. “This is a general distress signal to all ships. My name is Doctor Ling Tsai, chief scientist inside the Harmleikur star system. Harmleikur Two has suffered a cataclysmic magnetosphere event. I’m told that this is the result of a natural CME magnetic reconnection but we can’t explain why our planet’s magnetosphere has behaved the way it has. We have approximately five days before it collapses to the point where solar radiation will be lethal to human life. If you receive this message, you must change course and assist in the evacuation efforts.” The screen paused on its own.
“That’s pretty grim for a game,” Lochlain said. “Why would a planet’s magnetosphere collapse?”
Brooke shrugged. “I’m no expert but I don’t think they can in only five days. It’s just a random event in the game.” She brought up the navigation control screen again. “Harmleikur fields a Republic science outpost. It’s a two-day dive, just over the border from Ctama. Is it a colony in real life?” she wondered.
Lochlain shook his head. “No, Harmleikur is a dead system.” He poin
ted at the console’s screen and grunted. “They’re ‘Vics, let’em fry. We need to get my cargo to Tarandi.”
Brooke rolled her eyes but offered Lochlain a playful expression. She switched screens to the engineering panel and viewed the ship’s status. “Chief Engineer Shi reports the ship is ready to dive but your cargo run is already ruined. Let’s go rescue a few scientists.”
“Will saving some pixels make you feel better about yourself for abandoning the kids?”
Brooke chortled. “Saving a bunch of virtual ‘Vic scientists is only slightly less demoralizing than stranding a bunch of real, innocent students.” She inputted a course change that would take Shinshin to the Harmleikur tunnel point. She giggled as the console confirmed her course. “You know it’s a game because we’re willingly diving into the Brevic Republic.”
“Good thing Shinshin isn’t carrying illegal cargo,” Lochlain added. He tapped his datapad. “Wow, it’s late. We should go to bed. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
Brooke frowned dramatically but saved her progress. “Just one more turn. You’re no fun.” She playfully stuck her tongue out at him and rose while deactivating the game.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Let’s see if I can make it up to you somehow.”
Chapter 20
Lochlain spent the majority of his morning at the watchman’s console. The goods shipment was twenty minutes late but eventually the drone carrying the requested material appeared at the entryway and delivered its payload. Brooke stopped her routine maintenance in Engineering long enough to help stow the merchandise inside Zanshin’s converted storeroom. It took over an hour to haul the bundles into the freighter and restock the shelves. By the time they finished, it was approaching noon.
Lochlain wiped a sweaty brow while looking at the orderly rows of goods in the storeroom. “Thanks for your help,” he said while cleaning his hands on his pants legs. “I’ll head back to the watchman’s station and wait for Jack and Casper.”