by Jim Rudnick
“Dismissed, Captain. XO, report to my aide for billet assignments for officers. Crew to remain onboard the Marwick ‘til further notice. Oh, and ground leave is hereby canceled ‘til I look at our situation. I said, dismissed,” the admiral said as he turned on his heel and left the group standing.
“You heard the admiral,” the XO said, “let’s get going.”
He watched the three lieutenants move back toward the Marwick landing ramp leaving him and Tanner alone on the tarmac.
“Sir, if it is any solace, Sir ... we knew, of course. And we’re behind you, Sir. All the way,” he said as he clasped Tanner by the forearm and squeezed.
Tanner nodded, not wanting—not trusting himself—to say a word, and together they walked back to the ramp, with Tanner slowly stepping on the escalator while the XO watched and then moved to the admiral’s offices across the tarmac.
Moving up the ramp, all Tanner could think of was that everyone seemed to know what the next year would bring. Everyone knows what I am ... and what I have to do ... if only I can, he thought as the shame of their greeting here on Halberd soaked in.
#
“Sir, I believe that I heard the admiral say directly that ‘ground leave’ was canceled, Sir. That’s what I heard,” the XO said as he struggled to keep up with the group striding across the tarmac having just left the bottom of the Marwick landing ramp.
“Don’t care, XO, tonight is my last night with my best friend—Black Scotch,” Tanner said as he led the way toward the landing port exit on the far wall. Behind him were the XO, Ensign Radisson, and his Adept officer, Lieutenant Sander. All wearing their dress blues, they looked like a quartet of sailors fresh off duty and ready to paint the town red. Radisson had a questioning look on his face though, and he was able to finally catch up to the captain to ask him a question.
“Um, Sir? Could I ask if we are all being ‘ordered’ to accompany you on this ... um, sortie, Sir,” he said as he tried to stay up with the captain.
“Orders being given, which of course you must follow, would mean that should there be any ‘fallout’ on this evening, then you’d be covered. Do I have that right, Ensign?” Tanner said but didn’t drop the pace an iota as the gate was only 100 meters away.
“Sir, yes, Sir, we’d be clear—but of course, the officer who gave the orders would be the one to answer should that ‘fallout’ occur, Sir,” the Ensign answered.
Tanner knew this was correct and the way things worked in the Navy, and he didn’t want to get his officers in any kind of jeopardy.
“You’re so ordered, Ensign, now fall in,” Tanner said as they reached the gateway to the landing port and were met by a single Provost Guard on duty. He looked like he’d been a Provost corporal for more than thirty years and had definitely seen his share of boring duty as he stepped up to block the way.
“Sir,” he simply said and held out his hand to stop them.
“Corporal, we’re on leave so please step aside,” Tanner said.
“Sir, I do believe you, but as you know, the Marwick crew including officers I’m told ... so I’d need any change in orders—say, Sir, aren’t you that captain who beat the Pirates just a few years ago, Sir? And beat them good!” he said, his voice changing in tone from bored to amazement.
“Corporal, yes, that’s me—Captain Tanner Scott of the Marwick at your service, and thanks for that too!” Tanner said and saluted the corporal.
Flashing a quick salute back, the corporal stood to the side, clicked a button on the railing beside him to lift the gate boom barrier, and waved the quartet through.
“Sir, enjoy your first night here on Halberd, and if you get a chance, go over to Fireworks—great food, clubby-type place but owned by a couple of retired Provost grunts, Sir. Well worth the visit,” he added and smiled at the group as they walked under the now raised barrier and out onto the streets of Andros.
As the foursome moved down the sidewalk, their pace slowed to try to take in the sights, and there was much to see. The sidewalks on either side of the street were wide and broad, but here on the landing port side there was little traffic or businesses. Beside the port, lay a solid gray building only a couple of stories tall that Tanner's PDA said was some kind of a power sub-station. But just a few yards farther, the whole streetscape changed from bland to exciting.
There, the whole frontage of the city’s stadium lay along that side of the street for more than a block. There were box-office windows; there were insets where souvenir stands would be open on game days; and there were a couple of sidewalk bars with patios. All in all, the stadium would be the most important place in town when the Andros Avengers—the best rugby team on the RIM, the posters said—played, and the season was just about to start. Tanner nodded and pointed at one of the posters.
“Gentlemen, it’s my intent to buy the Marwick some season tickets to be used by any officers who want to go and yell for the Avengers!”
This was met, of course, with a big cheer from his group, and they all kept on walking down the main street of the city.
"What's that?" Ensign Radisson said as he pointed to the front façade of a building that lay between the landing port and the stadium. The building was gray concrete of some kind with few windows that were barred, and there was no signage or any mention of its use.
Bram grinned at them as they walked by the large two-story building. "This is the sub-power station that distributes power to the city and all its needs," he said and got nods from them all.
On the other side, there were crowds of people who looked like they were shopping and chatting in sidewalk cafes, kids running, and moms pushing strollers. Some of those cafes were full and had long lines since it was prime dinnertime hours. As the group crossed the street to join the throngs, Lieutenant Sander grinned at the group.
Quietly, so he wouldn’t be overhead, Lieutenant Sander said, “From what I read, the street is alive with couples who are in love ... couples that aren’t even couples yet, kids wanting more sweets, and even a few folks who are upset that their dinners were not up to snuff. More moms along here appear to be running late, and I even found a waiter who wanted to dump soup on one patron’s head!” Bram said, and as the Adept officer, he surely knew what he read as they ambled along the street.
At the big corner, they stopped to look in the three new directions and ahead of them stretched the main street, Arkell Boulevard, which ran from the south end of Andros where the landing port lay all the way north to the EL space elevator ground station more than a few miles away. Looking down that broad street, the XO stood on tiptoes and said after a study, “Straight ahead then, lads. Looks like the whole town is out tonight.”
And he was right as their pace was slowed even more since the crowds were now twice what they had been earlier. At one sidewalk patio, Tanner simply turned, walked in, took a seat at an empty table, and waved the server over. Quickly seating themselves around him, the other three were able to get their orders taken too. Soon there was a couple of pitchers of Randian beer and a triple of Scotch for the captain. They sat and watched the parade of people walking by, which was almost addictive. They saw tall aliens from the Caliphate and six-armed aliens from Alex’n, who were able to walk holding three hands at the same time between couples. Once in a while, Leudies would walk by with their long cloaks and almost hidden neck snakes, and they appeared to always be arguing about something. Two Takans, aliens that reminded one of a porcupine with quills that would pierce just about anything, made their way down the street, and they always had lots of space around them on the busy streets. The XO elbowed Tanner as a whole flock of Djarreers went by, hopping on their stork-like long legs with their wings tucked up behind their wide backs. Djarreers were seldom seen, and this caused many on the street to give wide berth to the flock yet point and make conversation. Waving at the server, Tanner ordered another round of drinks for the table, which were quickly brought, and the table dug in for more.
As dusk slowly began to darken t
he Halberd skies, the group finished off those drinks and another round and then left the cafe to make their way farther into the city. Ahead, two Leudies walked just in front of them, and they overheard talk about some kind of trade dispute over on Subai, which lay near the far western edge of the RIM Confederacy and was a world that Tanner had never visited yet.
“Subai ... anyone of you been there?” he asked his group, his voice only slightly hoarse from the drinks so far this evening.
“Sir, yes, I’ve been there,” the Ensign said. “It’s a world that has almost no surface vegetation or un-contaminated land that can be farmed. Nukes did that, what about 400 years ago, so the aliens all live underground. Hydroponics is a big seller there as are just about anything that has to do with soil-less farming and—“
Radisson was suddenly cut off when a large but young Caliphate alien bumped right into him, knocked him down, and then fell on him.
“What the hell?” Tanner said as he grabbed the arm of the much taller Caliphate citizen and yanked him while the XO had a hold of the other arm, and they both manhandled the alien off their Ensign.
“You will let go of that citizen immediately,” a voice rang out from behind them, and the voice had the ring of steel in it.
Striding up to the now growing group on the sidewalk, a tall Caliphate female with the backing of a few other of her kind showed up, and she waved the captain away with a flutter of her hand.
Tanner looked at her and was struck with how her eyes were almost violet and made her jet-black hair look even blacker. He stood his ground, and replied with that same steely tone.
“You, citizen, are speaking to the ranking Navy officer on Halberd—so I’ll trust you to remember thot ... that,” he said with only the slightest mistake.
“Which is, of course, good to know—but you are speaking to a Royal—I am the Countess Tibah al-Rashid of Olbia in the Caliphate realm, Captain,” she said with that same hard edge to her voice as she stared at the three standing Navy officers.
Tanner was surprised and somewhat taken aback. What were the odds of meeting a Royal in circumstances like this? he wondered. He stared at her thinking that for a Royal she was certainly an attractive woman.
From beside him, Lieutenant Sander spoke up.
“Ma’am, we are sorry—it was just such an expected shock to have our Ensign knocked down by, well, by one of your Caliphates. Ma’am,” he said. Tanner wondered if the Countess knew what the ringed planet symbol on Bram’s uniform meant and then realized everyone knew that an Adept officer, an Issian who could use their abilities to read other minds around them, wore such a symbol when in uniform.
The Countess nodded.
“Yes,” she said, ”youngsters are often impatient with crowded sidewalks, so I’d just ask that you remember that and forgive our young man. You can do that, can you not, Captain?” she asked nicely, the steel in her tone now missing as Tanner thought she was trying to make amends.
“Ensign?” he said as he looked at Radisson who was now up and brushing himself off.
Ensign Radisson looked up at the Countess and blushed.
“Ma’am, not a problem, Ma’am, it was probably my fault. I must have stepped in his way,” he said and almost wrung his hands as he tried to quell any issues at all. Each of them looked at each other and then nodded.
“Fine,” Tanner said, “we’re good then, Countess,” and stepped back away from the circle on the sidewalk as goodbyes were said.
The Caliphate group walked off south while the foursome headed north. They walked past more restaurants, cafes, and shops that sold visitors Halberd souvenirs. They slowed as they went by an Ishtar weapons shop and did some window-shopping of the arms in the window.
"Wow," Bram said, "look a Merkel."
That got a couple of whistles, as the rifle was so damn expensive.
"I know that weapon. It's about the best for killing oveds that there is," Tanner said, remembering the hunt on Anulet and that his blowing both over and under barrels at once had saved the Duke.
Beside the rifles and carbines lay sidearms, and right up front close to the window lay the latest in Needlers. Smaller, much more compact, they had lower endurance than the full-sized ones, but they still packed that same nerve-twinging shock that made anyone comply.
"Small, eh?" Radisson said. "In fact, you could, like, hide one in your pocket," he said, and they all oohed and aahed at the various weapons of mayhem.
"Enough," Tanner said. "Let’s find a bar!"
They all left the shop and made their way farther down the street. After a half a block or so, Tanner asked Bram a question.
“Any idea, Bram, why a Countess might be on Halberd? Did you get anything at all?”
Bram shook his head.
“Not really, Captain. About all I did get was a sense of Halberd being ‘home’ to her, and for that matter, the rest of the Caliphate group had the same feel too. Halberd is where that group lives ... but if you want to know more, maybe we can ask tomorrow over at Navy Hall, Sir.”
Makes sense, Tanner thought, as all citizens visiting Halberd had to check in with Immigration, so they’d know about the Caliphate group for sure. Tomorrow he’d check on that, but for tonight, there was Scotch to find and consume.
Looking inside a large open courtyard to their left, they heard music and saw many women who were dancing, and as usual, the XO smiled and said, “Shall we, lads?”
The XO led the way inside half-shouting, “We drink, and we dance for the RIM Navy,” and the partying mood went up greatly.
Hours and hours later over a quiet Scotch, Tanner sat at the bar and could still see his ensign dancing with that girl from Madrigal who was nude to the waist as per their normal attire. Cold worlds breathe airy dress, he figured, and nodded to the barman to give him just one more double. Craig, his XO, was over at a table of five girls chatting them all up, and Bram stood just a few feet off, watching the byplay like a referee watches a boxing match. Wonder, Tanner thought, if he’s trying to find a match for Craig—or himself. He sputtered and almost laughed out loud.
He eased his lips with a touch of Scotch and realized that he’d told himself earlier that this was it. He’d taken his officers out for the evening under orders and had meant then that this was his last time to ever have a drink.
Back on Juno at Navy Hall, Admiral McQueen had told him that either he beat the alcohol on Halberd or he’d be cashiered out of the Navy. Here, the rear admiral had embarrassed him greatly by bringing up that same story in front of some of his men, and he meant it too.
Wish there was a simple pill to take to get Scotch to lose its hold on me, Tanner thought and shook his head. But there wasn’t. We have FTL, we have mind readers, but not a simple pill to get away from the addiction that alcohol could have on anyone ... on me. He waved once more to the barman, who moved down the bar, reached to the back bar for a bottle, and poured another double in the same glass. He looked at Tanner and then shrugged and left the bottle on the bar.
Earlier in another lifetime, inwards in the Earldom, a mistake he’d made in the assault on an alien invader had caused his ship then to crash into a friendly and had killed hundreds and hundreds of the Earldom’s Navy men. That, he well knew, was the start of his reliance on Scotch for help, to get over the feelings of being the captain who had murdered crewman and had lived.
Guilt he supposed could do that. Guilt stared him in the face with every new crewman who faced him, from ensigns to privates, from lieutenants to the ship’s Provost Guard. He wondered if they thought he would sacrifice them to save the mission and himself. He wondered as he sipped.
Bram said quietly, “Sir, permission to speak?” and stood rock still at Tanner’s elbow.
Tanner nodded.
“You think that others under you back in the Earldom worried because you might need to make a decision only a captain can make—and it might cost them their lives. Is that it, Captain? Because that’s totally missing what is true here—that
is that each of us Navy men sign up for the duty, and that means that we know that our lives are at risk at all times, Captain.” He smiled at Tanner and laid his hand on his shoulder.
“Sir, you should know that didn’t happen. That not a single Navy man in anyone’s Navy would feel like that. Course then you can always remember that your assault on that alien ship, even though it cost you crewmen, killed the alien vessel, and is that not what your captain’s mission called for? Success, Sir. Yes, at a cost ... but such is how that battle went. Sir,” he said one more time and then turned to walk back to the XO who was now arm wrestling one of the girls and losing.
Across the bar against the far wall, a group of citizens was sitting, and it took him a moment to realize they must be Caliphatians, as they were extremely tall in their chairs around the big table. As he watched them for a moment talking, partying, and conversing, he noted that one of them stared back at him. From across the room, he could see the violet of her eyes. Certainly, an attractive woman the Countess was, and he thought further about getting up and going over but realized that he’d most likely just mess that up. He hoisted his glass to her instead, got a small smile back to acknowledge his toast, and realized that would have to do.
Tanner sat and let that thought percolate in his brain for a minute or two, and the grudgingly honest reaction he got was that Bram was most likely correct. Navy is as Navy does, and that is how it went for everyone from the lowest private to the captain.
He tossed the dregs of his drink down, looked at the bottle, and then pushed it away. Calling the barman over, he settled his tab for the foursome and then went to gather them up to go back to the Marwick. The XO wanted to stay to wrestle the girl from Thrones that Tanner thought he was sweet on, but looking at his captain, he simply sent her his Marwick contact information via his PDA. He bumped his PDA into hers to transfer the content and stood up to walk out with the group.