by James Palmer
After three weeks cooped up aboard the Windsong, Braun was looking forward to a little quality time with her.
The grunts moved aside as Braun jogged past. He spoke to each of them briefly, calling them by name and making an off-handed comment that brought laughs from the dockhands. Braun himself had once been in their position so he made it a point to speak to them. On some ships there was an us vs. them mentality aboard transport ships that divided the crew. He was happy to see that was not the case here.
Yet another reason he liked serving aboard the Windsong.
On his second lap through the corridor, Braun spotted First Mate Eng, Captain Reyes right hand. Alexandra Eng was not the kind of woman you would expect to find on a transport vessel. The majority of the men on the crew drooled over her, and rightly so. Eng was tall, with legs that went on seemingly forever. She kept her auburn hair in a ponytail, usually sticking though the back of a faded baseball cap.
Eng too, was a jogger. Braun picked up the pace to catch up with her. They had jogged together a few times and he always enjoyed her company. They had some good talks while jogging.
“Evening, Commander,” he said as they rounded the corner that lead into the storage areas. Here the corridor was wider so they could run side by side instead of single file. Not that Braun had a problem following her. He loved the view. Since the Windsong was a civilian vessel there were no military officers aboard, although some of the crew were former military. Braun had called her Commander by accident early in his time aboard ship and she had thought it was funny. It had become a running personal joke between them since.
“How we doing, Braun,” she replied, not one bit out of breath.
“No complaints, Alex. Just ready to get home for a couple days.”
“Your girl waiting on you?”
“God, I hope so. With her schedule, it’s hard to plan ahead.”
They slowed at the end of the aisle while a load lifter moved a pallet from one hold to another. They had picked up a few items for delivery to the station while out on the fringe, which had made this a doubly productive haul. It also meant a small bonus for the crew, which was also a nice change of pace.
“I know what you mean. Malcolm was transferred to some godforsaken backwater world last week. I just got the letter now that we’re within the buoy net.”
“Sorry to hear that. You two seemed rather happy together.”
Her stride increased and Braun picked up his as well to keep up. “Yeah, but it was nothing exclusive. In our line of work it’s hard to maintain anything even close to resembling a long-term relationship. You know how our schedules are and his were even worse.”
“The Alliance is good about moving people around,” Braun said. He knew that Malcolm Setlik was an Alliance officer and as such never stayed in one place very long. He had met him once at a birthday party the crew had thrown for Alex’s last birthday. He thought they made a nice couple, despite how utterly different they were.
“I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye,” she said. “That’s the worst part. Naturally, I’ll call him, but it’ll be a good day or so before we’re back on McGintlee.”
“I didn’t realize we were that close.”
“Thanks for trying not to sound too happy about it, Braun,” she said, looking at him and smiling. At the end of the cargo bay, she stopped and rested her hands on her knees. She was not breathing hard, but Braun was and he appreciated the chance to catch his breath.
“Sorry, Commander,” he smiled.
She returned the smile.
“What say I buy you a drink and we can talk some more,” he said, surprising himself with the invitation almost as much as it had obviously surprised her. “I’m sure O’Toole’s got some good rot-gut under the bar.”
Her smile remained in place. “Better yet, I’ve got a bottle of the really good stuff back in my cabin. I picked it up on Pellor on a trade. I was hoping to save it for after we get home, but since there’s not much there to celebrate, I figure now’s as good a time as any to break it open.”
Braun shifted nervously. He’d certainly stuck his foot in it this time.
“And I’d rather not drink it alone,” she added. “What do you say?”
Not sure exactly how to respond, he was surprised to hear himself say, “Lead the way, Commander.”
No longer jogging, they ran to the first mate’s cabin.
3
Alliance Starship Pegasus
Virginia Harmon felt like someone had kicked her in the gut.
The news was both unsettling and just a bit confusing. This can’t be happening, she told herself as she processed the news of her friend’s untimely death at the hands of raiders.
Chief Franklin James Thorne had been more than her mentor he had been her friend. Hell, he was more of a dad to her than her own father had ever been. Why did this have to happen? she wondered. How could it have happened? And why the hell wasn’t I informed?
Her outrage was overshadowed only by her growing sense of guilt. She had talked him into joining her crew after all. If she hadn’t pushed he would still be alive back in that little cabin of his he’d bought for when he retired. It had taken a lot to convince the chief to forego retirement for another year and take on the engineering job aboard the Pegasus. He finally relented as a personal favor to the newly promoted captain. And now he was gone and suddenly Harmon’s world had turned upside down.
“I’m sorry to have to be the one to break this to you, Captain,” the new chief engineer, Harold Thomas told her. “I’m sure Command has been trying to contact you to inform you of everything.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Chief. I have been bouncing around from one transport to another the past couple of weeks,” she said. “I apologize for my outburst. The news just caught me off guard is all.” She paused to collect herself. “Chief Thorne and I were friends for a long time. The news is a little unsettling.”
“I understand, and just to assure you, this won’t go any farther than me, ma’am. I am the sole of discretion.”
“Thanks, Chief, but I’m not ashamed to show emotion. I am a human being after all, not an A. L.”
“Of course. I did not mean any disrespect. Just looking out for my captain, ma’am.”
Harmon stopped and turned back to Thomas. “Thank you. I think it’s best if I get settled in and then we can talk further. I wanted to discuss a few engineering studies the chief and I were planning after we launch.”
“Of course, Captain. At your convenience, I’ll be in Engineering whenever you’re ready.”
Captain Harmon paused long enough to look around the hatch area. “Do you know if the first officer has arrived yet?” she asked.
“I believe he’s on the bridge, Captain. Would you like me to escort you?”
She smiled sadly at the taller man. “That won’t be necessary. I know this ship backward and forward. I’ve been studying up for this most of my adult life.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll carry on then,” Chief Thomas said with a reassuring grin, resuming his course to the engine room. He seemed like a nice enough man and he was obviously good at his job otherwise the Central Command wouldn’t have promoted him. She hoped they would work well together.
It took all of fifteen minutes to get to the bridge and meet the first officer. To her eternal embarrassment, she only lost her way once. A nice young ensign whose name she could not remember had helped her get back on track.
The first officer seemed nice enough on initial impressions. He acted a little nervous, but that was to be expected, wasn’t it? Certainly she of all people could sympathize. Truth be told, she had scared out of her mind since she woke up that morning.
The first officer was a squat man of about thirty. He was a little out of shape to hold such a lofty position, she thought, but like Chief Thomas, she had to believe Central Command trusted him or he would not have been assigned to Pegasus. She had hoped to choose her own first officer, but with the amount of q
ualified personnel available that was not an option. The Alliance was quickly filling open positions as quickly as they became available.
She had been extremely lucky to be allowed to choose her own chief engineer.
Like his captain, the Pegasus’ first officer, Lt. Commander Ronald Mowen had also arrived earlier than expected. A good sign as far as Harmon was concerned. He seemed as eager to get things moving as she was. He had been aboard for the better part of a week, overseeing preparations for the ship’s launch in three days. The captain promised a sit down meeting with her second in command at a later time.
Noticing that his new commanding officer was rather preoccupied, Mowen reluctantly agreed. Besides, they had time before the Pegasus’ scheduled launch in a few days.
With that bit of business out of the way, Virginia Harmon went to her quarters, which did not take as long to find as the command deck had been.
This time she had no mishaps along the way.
The captain surveyed the quarters assigned to her.
As expected, it had all the comforts of home. Living room, bedroom, bathroom, spacious office, and even a kitchen. Actually, her quarters aboard the Pegasus were infinitely better than any place she had ever lived before. The major difference here was that for the first time in her adult life Virginia Harmon was not saddled with a roommate.
It was a great feeling. Liberating.
And long overdue.
The one thing it was not was tidy. She dropped her bag onto the bed amid the suitcases stacked there. The people at Bridger Corporation had delivered the bulk of her personal effects and belongings well before her arrival. Now all that remained was to unpack and settle in before the ship’s scheduled departure from dock three days later.
But before she could even begin to entertain the notion of decorating, there was a very important task that could not wait. There was still the matter of investigating the death of Franklin Thorne. Not a task she relished, but an important one. It had to be done. She not only owed it to him and his memory, but to herself as well.
She wanted -no- she needed to know the truth.
Settling into the plush office in the far corner of her suite, Harmon punched in her six- digit access code and ran her index finger over the biometric sensor pad. Within seconds, her identity was confirmed and her access approved. As a captain she had full access to the entire UPA database.
SEARCHING.
After several agonizing minutes of searching, the computer located the appropriate file and downloaded it to her terminal. It was flagged with a high security clearance tag. Thankfully, that was not as big a deterrent for Harmon as it had been only a week before.
Being promoted certainly has its perks.
The screen read, CLASSIFIED: SECURITY CODE PROTECTIVE SEAL. PLEASE ENTER SECURITY AUTHORIZATION CODE.
Captain Harmon stared at the UPA crest on the screen as she promptly typed in her six-digit code once again. “Bureaucrats,” she mumbled unflatteringly to the screen as it slowly, almost reluctantly, allowed her access to the information she so desperately desired.
The screen finally shifted to another message.
AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED.
“Thank God,” she sighed. “At last.”
THANK YOU. WELCOME CAPTAIN VIRGINIA HARMON.
“You’re welcome,” she mouthed in reply, but without the sentiment. The ship’s computer could care less about the user’s foul mood.
She opened the file and slowly began to read the recorded logs of Captain William Andrews of the starship Ulysis. The report was very thorough, very professional. Everything she felt a good captain was supposed to be. She hoped to one day perform as well as the captain of the Ulysis had if she ever found herself under similar circumstances.
She continued reading.
The Ulysis had been the first ship to arrive on the scene after the attack. Harmon wondered if perhaps her Captain had some answers not contained in the official report that might possibly ease her troubled mind. Maybe, but she doubted it.
“Still, it can’t hurt to ask,” she said as she scanned the transmit codes.
She typed in a request for the starship Ulysis’ current location and waited. She desperately needed to have a chat with Captain Andrews. If for no other reason than to find out if her mentor suffered or if he went peacefully. Several times she cursed her inability to type, but within minutes her request was hurtling through space on a laser guided comm frequency on a direct path for the floating city that was the flagship of the United Planetary Alliance somewhere deep in the outer fringes of the quadrant.
It would take an hour or so to receive a response, possibly longer depending on whether or not the Ulysis was involved in some crisis or another. It seemed rather unlikely that the captain of the ship was just hanging around waiting for a phone call.
Her first day on the job was not turning out exactly as planned. Sighing inwardly, Captain Harmon set about the unpleasant business of unpacking, looking around the room at the multitude of boxes.
“How did I get so much junk?” she sighed.
The tour of her brand new ship would have to wait another hour or so.
“Now where did I put my socks?”
4
Alliance Starship Ulysis
The afterburners of the small light duty cruiser winked out.
As the ship dropped out of hyper-space, its speed significantly decreased to a slower sub-light speed. The pilot skillfully altered course to intercept its targeted destination, a ship traveling at normal sub-light speed.
That ship was the starship Ulysis, often labeled as the floating city.
With practiced ease, the pilot, Lieutenant Melvin Jeffries, moved in along the shortest path to the docking port while simultaneously requesting permission to do the maneuvers he had already set into motion and in some cases had already completed.
“This is the shuttle Charleston, registry: Alpha Two Nine Bravo. We are requesting permission to dock.” He let out a small harrumph of annoyance, hoping his passenger hadn’t heard it, although he guessed there were very few things that slipped by the older gentleman sitting in the passenger cabin directly behind him. Still, his passenger remained quiet and out of the Lieutenant’s hair. Not many people of his status and rank would have been as patient and understanding. Then again, his passenger was nothing like most people of his rank.
“I repeat,” Lt. Jeffries said, more forcibly this time. “This is the shuttle Charleston. We are requesting permission to dock with Ulysis.” A moment of silence hung there as he waiting on a response. “I have Admiral McKeen aboard,” he added, hoping his VIP passenger would not mind the lowly little pilot pulling rank without permission.
There was a brief pause before the automated landing beacons flared to life.
“Well that certainly got some ones attention,” the admiral said with a laugh from the rear compartment. Jeffries tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his blushing at the admiral’s offhanded comment. The man’s reputation of being less than formal was certainly no exaggeration. Lt. Jeffries found himself instantly liking the man. The Alliance needed more officers that remembered they were more than uniforms, that they were human.
The Alliance needed more men like Admiral James McKeen.
“Attention shuttle Charleston,” a rushed voice spoke over the communication grid. “We have no record of your visit. We will need a few moments for confirmation. Please hold your current position and stand by. Ulysis out.”
“Whatever.” This time Jeffries made no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice.
Then, he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder, but managed not to flinch. The admiral had entered the cockpit quietly. Jeffries was surprised by the man’s stealthy approach. “Don’t let it get to you, son,” he grinned. “It’s the regs. What’re you gonna do, huh?”
“Yeah,” the pilot quipped. “What are we going to do?”
The admiral leaned in conspiratorially. “I know they stink, but what can you do, hu
h? Personally, I hate them, but keep that under your hat, okay? I’m too close to retirement to be dishonorably discharged.”
Lt. Jeffries stifled a laugh. “Yes, sir,” he said instead. How many other high-ranking officers would have made a comment like that to a subordinate? Not many, he guessed.
The minutes slowly ticked away at an agonizing pace until, abruptly, the voice of yet another rushed individual filtered through the comm grid. “Permission to dock has been granted Charleston. Our apologies for the delay, gentlemen. On behalf of Captain Andrews and the command staff, welcome to the Ulysis.”
“About time.” The Lieutenant mumbled as he powered up the shuttle’s engines from idle standby mode.
“Please proceed to docking bay three, shuttle Charleston,” the distant voice finally added.
“Thank you, Ulysis.” There was no sincerity in Lt. Jeffries’ parting comment. “Charleston beginning final approach.”
Without further useless pleasantries, he severed communications with the larger ship. They would have nothing of relevance to add until the Charleston was docked anyway. He scratched at his thick brown beard as he lined up the nose of the shuttle for precision docking maneuvers.
Playtime’s over, he thought. Time to do some work. This is what they pay me the big bucks for, after all. He chuckled at the joke, then, remembering his passenger and the urgency of the man’s trip, he turned to the rear compartment. “We’ll be aboard momentarily, Admiral.”
“That’s fine, Lieutenant.” The admiral flashed a grin at the younger man in the pilot’s seat. “Oh, and thanks for the ride. Smooth flying.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeffries said, trying to keep from blushing and failing utterly.
If the admiral noticed, he showed no sign.
Lt. Jeffries let out a small sigh of relief.