by Chris Hechtl
“So, you dropped your guests off? I'm surprised you didn't invite some of them to be your replacement crew,” Renee said.
“What guests?” her sister demanded, eyes narrowing.
“The ones you picked up in Pyrax. The port admiral and his cronies,” Renee replied indifferently, pretending to inspect her nails. The admiral had recorded the entire departure of Carib Queen including the spaced bodies. The bodies had been recovered and given proper burial. She was just curious to see if her sister would admit it or not. “Funny though, we haven't received word that they were dropped off at any of your stops.”
“Oh those layabouts? We spaced the lot of them before we even left Pyrax,” her sister said with a grimace. “They were worthless.”
Renee smiled triumphantly. “You know, you just admitted to committing murder.”
Her sister snorted. “I wouldn't call it that. More like getting rid of garbage. So?”
“So, I could send the marines over to board your ship and put you into custody. Of course I'd have to send a prize crew over as you and your crew were extradited to Pyrax. Just getting there could take months. Then the trial …”
Her sister's eyes flared. “You bitch! You wouldn't dare!” She jutted her jaw out.
“Don't tempt me,” Renee snarled right back, eyes glittering as she leaned forward, projecting every centimeter of desire to follow through with her threat.
Something went out of her sister's eyes. Renee realized the spark of defiance was no longer there. The tables had turned; she was the one who had the power. She thought she'd relish this time but instead something within her own mind shriveled. The experience hadn't been at all what she'd thought it would be. There was very little satisfaction. Still, she was a professional and kept her face a mask.
Her sister stared at her and something like real fear flashed in her expression before she dropped her eyes and lowered her head. “Think you’re queen because you've got a warship now,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, I did trade up, didn't I?” Renee asked, grinning. She loved twisting the knife even though she'd decided to let her sister off the hook. No one missed the port admiral and his cronies. “Fortunately for you, there aren't any warrants in my files so I'll let you off on a warning.”
“Thanks.” her sister muttered, as if the favor was painful to endure.
“Yeah well, I just didn't want to haul your fat ass back to Pyrax. And I definitely didn't want you stinking up my ship in the process.”
“Are we done?” her sister demanded, head down. She was beaten Renee realized.
“Just about.”
>=:::#>
Vanessa swore viciously for a while, then shrugged, and when the navy pukes asked to board, she allowed it. She was surprised that the boarding was handled by the factory ship, Prometheus.
After a little bit of thought though, it made sense. Prometheus apparently had the better engineers. The marines that came on board were harried but no-nonsense. They did a cursory inspection of the ship then stepped aside and kept an eye on the engineers as they moved in. The engineers worked with Randy over an entire shift to give a top to bottom, bow to transom inspection of the ship.
Randy initially pointed out problems, which were dually noted and if possible repaired. But when Vanessa made a remark about him talking down about his own ship, he'd shut up briefly. When she'd realized things were being overlooked, she'd snarled at him to do his job and then taken herself off to let him speak without her inhibiting him.
The prices of fresh food on the ground made her wince. The poverty was something her mother had taught her to take advantage of, when she had something to use. She didn't. The little trade goods she carried on board were small and easily portable but were all luxury goods. Goods people who were near starving didn't need or want.
When the insufferable navy pukes were escorted off her ship, she wasn't certain if she was glad to see them go or not. They'd done a good job, even turning loose some of their robots to clean and repair some of the systems. Her hyperdrive had been retuned as had her gravitic arrays. Most of the damage from the pirates had been made good or bypassed around in the years it had taken them to get from Pyrax to ET. The navy techs had repaired things in ways she hadn't expected.
Her tired but happy crew were all smiles. Troy showed her the computer. The network had been fixed; the drives cleaned and repaired. The slapped together repairs on her bridge had been repaired as well, with wiring that had been left exposed re-routed into the proper stations.
She felt a little grudging admiration over it all. She also wished she had something to trade to get them to keep some of their engineers. She dearly wished she could boot Randy's nearly worthless ass out an airlock once and for all.
“We received a download of current events, ma'am,” Lora said, pointing to the computer. Vanessa frowned, looking at the computer terminal. “They uploaded up-to-date star charts including where pirate activity is expected to be until they can get around to stamping it out. I haven't had time to go over all of it yet of course. It's too much. Did you know that Prometheus isn't that old?”
“So?”
“I mean the ship, ma'am! And it's got an A.I.! I was talking to one of the techs; there is an A.I. on Firefly! All sorts of stuff …”
“I could care less. Attend to what we need to keep this ship running. Let them play their games,” Vanessa snarled. She sat back and stared at the computer, then typed out a few inquiries as Lora flinched and looked away.
“Huh,” Vanessa said when she noted the speed and repairs. That was all she said however.
>=:::#>
“The road not traveled,” Firefly said as the officer's dinner concluded and the group broke up. It was a working dinner so many of the surviving senior officers who had been able to attend hadn't bothered to dress up for the occasion. Lieutenant Edigner, her chief engineer, had immediately made his excuses to retreat back to engineering.
The topic invariably had drifted to their unexpected and somewhat unwanted visitor.
“I hope no regrets, ma'am?” Purple Thorn asked, eying the captain.
“Nary a one. Nor any regrets about offering my sister a chance to come over for dinner and a tour. I'd imagined, hell, dreamed of such an opportunity, but now isn't the time. Not with Firefly so battered.”
“I agree, ma'am. We don't need civilians nosing around the ship while it is under repair,” the elf said with a dutiful nod.
“I know you had dreams of meeting your sister, and under different circumstances,” newly promoted Captain JG Shelby Logan said, smiling to her old friend. She had left Troll in charge of Prometheus and organizing the boarding party to sort Carib Queen out. “I for one appreciate the dinner invitation,” she said with a small smile as she toyed with her wine glass.
“Thank you, Commodore,” Renee teased, eying Shelby.
Shelby snorted. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be flag rank yet. It was still some getting used to that she was a captain JG! “I think you'll be ready to move out to Gaston within a week as planned. As long as nothing else unexpected crops up between then and now.”
“It's been long enough,” Renee grumbled.
“Next time don't get chewed up so thoroughly,” Shelby retorted. She saw the pain in her friend's eyes and reached out to grip her hand in apology. “Sorry,” she murmured. “You gave as good as you got, I know. And I'll miss some of our old friends too. Even if,” she turned a mocking glower on Purple Thorn and “Commodore” Firefly before returning her look to the captain. “Some don't write as often as they should,” she mocked.
“You were at an address that didn't get the mail very often you know,” the elf retorted.
“True. But the ansible network is expanding, so that won't be much of an excuse for too much longer. I got one from Janice, who’s captain of Dunatis and running convoys,” she said, knowing that bombshell would get the officers to grin in appreciation of their old friend's good fortune. “So, I expect the occasional m
issive,” Shelby scolded, shaking a finger at each of them as she smiled. “In fact, I order it,” she said wickedly, kicking back and crossing her feet in front of them all.
“Can she order that?” Purple Thorn asked, eying the captain.
“She's an acting commodore,” Renee said, taking a sip of her wine as she fought a smile.
“An honorary rank I too share since the tradition is that there is only one captain on a ship,” Firefly stated. “But I appreciate the sentiment,” he said with a slight head nod to Shelby. “I at least will remember to write to you and others I consider friends in the future. Thank you for counting me in that number, Commodore,” he said humbly.
“Thank you. That's one of you at least,” Shelby said, relaxing a bit with relief. She'd thought she'd pushed her joke there, but apparently it had been taken as such. She glanced at the wine and then set the glass down. “I took on your sibling from hell for you, so you owe me one,” the young woman teased, shooting Renee a look. Renee tipped her head as if to acknowledge the debt. “Which, I am cashing in now.” Renee blinked in surprise, then her eyes narrowed in wary attention. Shelby grinned. “No offense, Skip, but I'd much rather have a long neck and you know it,” she said, eyes glittering with mischief. That earned a snort from Renee as Shelby turned to look over her shoulder to the hovering steward.
“He's new. He didn't meet you when you were the pain in the ass XO on board,” Renee teased as the steward silently went to his kitchen and came back with a beer, coaster, and empty stein. “I think you got that from ET, right, Alfred?” the captain asked, looking from the bottle to the steward as he set them out next to the visiting captain.
“Yes, ma'am, like the wine and some of our produce,” the steward said, tucking the tray under his arm. “Will there be anything else, madam?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” Shelby said, disdaining the stein in favor of the bottle. She saluted him with her beer before she took a swig.
The steward sniffed a bit, nose high as he left. She grinned.
“You're irrepressible,” Purple Thorn teased.
“No, just set in her ways. She takes it from her father I believe,” Firefly replied dryly.
“True, dad is definitely a beer drinker,” Shelby said with a brief smile. Her eyes drifted back to Renee. “So, queen of space, you got a bit of revenge on your sister. How did it feel?”
“Strangely unappealing in the end,” Renee admitted. Her guests snorted in disbelief. She shrugged. “No, seriously,” she said, then slowed as she started to move. She saw the flicker of concern on Shelby's face but waved it away. “I did like her expression; you did record it, right?” she asked, looking at Firefly. The A.I. nodded sagely. “Good.”
That earned a chuckle from the other organics in the room.
When the moment of levity ended, Renee frowned thoughtfully. “I liked twisting the knife a little. And yeah, showing I came out, well, I was going to say smelling like a rose but since our recent dustup has me feeling like I got dragged through a compost heap,” Renee grimaced.
“You got to prove to her you got the better deal when she left you high and dry. I wonder how many of her crew are wishing they'd stayed behind?” Shelby asked thoughtfully. She shrugged and took a pull of her beer.
“Probably all of them. My sister is … brutal. I know all of us who were left behind were grateful, though not at first I admit. But once we got past the battle … well, I know I will be writing to them to let them know I put my sister in her place.”
“Queen of space indeed,” Shelby murmured, saluting her with the beer bottle again.
“And don't you forget it,” Renee growled as her good hand stroked her chair arm. That earned another laugh.
>=:::#>
After she thought about it again, Renee came off the conversation with her sister feeling on top of the world and her conscious clear. She could have used her power but had restrained herself. Her sister was in her past, and she firmly believed she should stay there. She was done with worrying about her opinion or attempting to impress her.
She was amused that her sister hadn't commented about the inspection and repair. Typical of her, to look a gift horse in the mouth or not even thank someone for giving her a helping hand. Not that she … oh, she had to be honest with her. A cynical sadistic side of her deep down had wanted to hear that thanks, even if it had been insincere.
Perhaps it was a good thing then that her sister had stayed true to type and hadn't thanked them.
Two days after Carib Queen made orbit, a courier came in just ahead of the lumbering freighter carrying the ansible and its installation. “They should have just held the damn courier. Silly to send it when the ansible was in the pipeline,” Renee muttered.
“They were probably double checking to make sure it arrived on time and to alert us to keep an eye out for it and let them know if it didn't arrive on time,” Purple Thorn stated.
“True,” Renee admitted. She watched the two ships. The courier didn't stray into the inner system. She uploaded the contents of her mailbag into a laser transmission to its intended recipients then waited patiently for return replies before she turned about and jumped out once more.
“I'd so hate to be on a ship like that. Lonely. A couple people, an A.I. and just in and out.”
“Some people like that sort of life,” a rating murmured.
“I wouldn't.”
“What about the ansible ship,” the other rating murmured. Renee listened with half an ear to the conversation.
“What about it?”
“They have to travel in the low octaves of hyperspace. Can you imagine how much that has to suck? Months and months on a journey that can take everyone else a couple of weeks? Only to find something went wrong?”
“It's … yeah. But remember, not too long ago everyone traveled at that speed,” the other sensor rating retorted.
“True.”
“And they can step on the gas so to speak once they are unloaded. Still, it is kinda cool to set those things up everywhere.”
“Bucking for a transfer?” the first rating asked.
“Oh hell no,” the second rating said, earning a chuckle from the bridge watch.
“We've received clearance to move out, ma'am,” Firefly reported, decrypting the first set of transmissions. That made the crew sit up and take notice.
“Alert Prometheus and the work parties then. All leaves are canceled. Let everyone know we'll move out in twenty-four hours if engineering clears us,” she said.
“Aye aye, ma'am.”
>=:::#>
“So, what else can you do for me? To help facilitate trade and since my sister is one of your captains,” Vanessa asked, eying the lieutenant who had taken her call.
“Ma'am?” the jig asked, confused. “I, um, ma'am, we're rather saturated with the repairs to Firefly as well as to the planet. If you send over a list, I can run it past manufacturing and stores to see what we've got available,” he said.
“Not good enough. I don't intend to stay here forever,” Vanessa replied, jutting her chin out imperiously. “Isn't there someone higher I can talk with?” she demanded, eying the jig severely.
“Um, ma'am.”
“I'll take it,” a cool female voice said, making the lieutenant look up in surprise. He gulped and then nodded, moving out of the camera's pick up range to be replaced by a woman in a captain's uniform.
“And you are...?”
“Captain JG Shelby Logan. You want to repair your ship, Captain?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her. “What do you have for payment?”
“I …,” Vanessa sputtered to a stop. Bluster was out of the question now she realized as she surveyed her opponent. “Young lady, do you know who I am?” she decided to try anyway.
“You are Vanessa Mayweather, Captain of Carib Queen. Yes, I know you; I ran into you briefly on Anvil before you left us to the pirates,” Shelby said, sitting back to eye her opponent. “When I was XO on Firefly,” she wait
ed a beat to let that factoid sink in for a moment, “your sister didn't mention you fondly, let's say. Nor did Janice or some of the other people you left behind.”
The civilian captain flushed.
“I'm not sure what you can offer in payment. Obviously bartering for transport of people to your next destination is out,” Shelby said caustically enough to make Vanessa's flush turn to nearly cherry tones. “But I'm sure we can work something out I suppose. I'm not holding a grudge. Truth be told, you were doing what you thought was best for your ship and crew at the time.”
Vanessa blinked, suddenly taken aback by the change of heart.
“I won't give you anything for free, and you'll have to wait on priority. But the admiral wants every ship upgraded to help stimulate the economy while making them and trade safer. So, I suppose a bit of help should be in order.”
“Thank you,” Vanessa ground out.
“I'm doing my duty. You should be thanking your sister. If she hadn't done what she had done here, you would have walked right into the arms of the pirates without enough fuel and with little hope of getting away. And they are far, far more brutal than you are,” Shelby said.
Vanessa nodded once. She'd traded most of their cargo for fuel. The bastards on the ground had gouged her. She had picked up some spare parts; that had really surprised her. She'd also picked up a small cargo but not a lot.
The ansible network was going to severely crimp the postal market she thought darkly.
“Your speed isn't quite what it should be to carry some of our priority cargoes and personnel. We need to move a lot of people to Gaston and from there to Pyrax, but your ship can't handle the speeds we require. Not in her present condition.”
“If you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, Captain. I promise to take good care of the passengers,” Vanessa said, trying not to plead with the woman.
“I'll consider it,” Shelby said, making a mental note to run the conversation past Renee and legal before she committed to anything that could turn around and bite her in the ass. “I'll have Trollup, that's Chief Troll, my chief engineer,” the captain explained, “I'll have her give you a call when she is free. Have the list standing by. I think we have our own list on file as well. Have your engineer prioritize what you can and can't do on your own.”