by CJ Williams
“Hold on!” Shrimpman said, sticking his hand out in front of Grandfather’s face. “I am Lieutenant John Shrimpman, United States Space Navy. You failed to answer our hails. Identify yourself.”
Gus looked flustered. “What? You mean me or the ship?”
“Listen, mister,” Shrimpman yapped. “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Do you know what’s going on here? Do you know where you are?”
“What?” Gus repeated.
“Look at this boat. This is disgusting. You’ve got no navigation lights, no registration, no safety equipment. I don’t see any lifeboats or fire extinguishers. Besides that, you’re in the middle of Restricted Range 2303 during a US Space Navy live-fire exercise. Do you realize you’re liable for expenses involved in the postponement of a military training exercise? Mister, you are in one heap of trouble.”
Hawkins cringed at his Lieutenant’s uncalled-for attitude.
Shrimpman gestured vaguely toward the sun. “Are you responsible for the destruction of this system’s asteroids?”
“Well, sort of,” Gus said. “We had an unstable warp bubble, and—”
Shrimpman held up his hand once more, cutting Gus off. “Stop it right there, mister. Do not take me for a fool. Do not even try that. Now let’s start over, and when I ask a question, you answer!”
“What?”
Hawkins could stand it no longer. “Sir, these are the people that—”
Shrimpman silenced him with a gesture. “Thank you, Sergeant. I have this under control. Your job is to stand guard.” He whipped his head back and forth dramatically. “Watch our flanks. Get the rest of the men out here.”
Hawkins could not believe it. He clicked his mic over to Squad Only frequency and said, “Guys. You people know this is Grandfather Gus, right? Scampi wants everyone on deck. Come on down here but stand very easy.” He directed his men where to position themselves as they jumped onto the deck in pairs. He flashed an apologetic glance at Hannah, but her face now reflected a growing fear. He felt sorry for the kid. A boarding by armed marines was meant to be intimidating.
Shrimpman laid into Captain Gus once again, berating him for a wide range of imagined infractions of regulatory guidelines for civil spacecraft. He ended by saying, “The best thing I could do is just blast this piece of crap into dust and be done with it.” He tapped Gus on the chest forcefully to make his point.
*.*.*.*
On the bridge of the New Orleans, Copeland watched his scout crew with growing concern. “What are they doing over there? Give me audio.”
Shrimpman’s voice came through the overhead speakers. He was giving hell to the civilian captain.
“What is he thinking?” Copeland growled. “He should be rendering aid, not writing a traffic ticket. He shouldn’t even be on that deck. Tell the scout pilot to pull back and get someone else over there. An adult this time.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Helm, move us in close.”
“Aye, aye. Moving in close.”
“Who is the NCOIC of that squad?” Copeland demanded.
“Sergeant Hawkins, sir,” the XO said.
“Patch me into Hawkins’s radio!”
*.*.*.*
Kyoko heard loud voices coming from the main deck. She sat up and tried to get her bearings. The last thing she remembered was that pirates were trying to board Alyssa. That seemed like a long time ago, but her mind was fuzzy. She got out of bed painfully. Her ribs hurt like crazy. How had that happened? She could sort that out later. Right now, it sounded like Grandfather was in trouble.
She made her way to the quarterdeck and looked down to see a dozen men surrounding Grandfather and Hannah. One of them with an ugly red face was making threats, and the rest were holding vicious-looking weapons. Wasn’t it just a few minutes ago that a pirate had tried to kill Grandfather? Her sense of time was all messed up but it didn’t matter. She would save him. She staggered down to the waist and approached the scowling officer.
*.*.*.*
Sergeant Hawkins grimaced at Kyoko’s appearance. Not that she was there, but she looked like someone had beaten the crap out of her. He could see her horribly bruised ribs under her unbuttoned shirt. The pirates must have done a number on her, and now she was nothing but skin and bones.
Hannah hurried over to urge Kyoko back to bed, but Kyoko shoved her aside and continued to head for Shrimpman. She had murder in her eyes…if she didn’t fall over on the way.
“Everybody stand easy,” Hawkins broadcast to his squad. “I don’t care what happens, nobody moves a muscle.”
Kyoko reached Shrimpman as he poked Grandfather Gus in the chest. She grabbed his extended index finger and bent it backward, forcing Shrimpman to retreat.
“Back the fuck up!” she snarled at the startled lieutenant.
She teetered for a moment and unconsciously put out a hand to steady herself, inadvertently grasping the barrel of Martinez’s blaster. Martinez flashed Hawkins a worried glance.
Hawkins replied by unobtrusively shaking his head and mouthed, “Don’t move.”
Gus urged Kyoko to stop, but she ignored him and pressed her attack on the little officer with red hair.
“You think you’re going to destroy this ship?” she gasped. “You aren’t man enough to even stand on the deck of this magnificent interstellar racing vessel.”
Shrimpman’s lip curled in disgust. “Lady, I’m in charge here. First of all, I’m Lieutenant John Shrimpman. Who are you?”
Kyoko absently looked at Martinez and seemed to notice she was leaning on his weapon. She smiled and said, “Oops. Sorry.” Martinez stood rock steady.
Hawkins had seen enough casualties in his career to know this was one very sick lady. Blood matted her blonde hair, and the hideous gash on her rib cage looked like a butcher had sewn it together. The pirates had a lot to answer for.
Kyoko let go of Martinez’s blaster and turned her attention back to Shrimpman. “Well, listen to me, Mr. John Shrimpface. I am not going to put up with a pip-squeak like you coming on my deck, on my ship, to threaten my Alyssa, no way! I’ve been lost, drowned, baked, starved, steamed, frozen, shot, beaten up, and ignored for two years!” With each exclamation, she stepped nearer, forcing Scampi backward until he was at the gunwale. She poked him in the chest, emphasizing each point. “And I’m not going to have some undersized, redheaded, bug-eyed, pug-nosed, little piss-ant shrimp face like you come and take this ship away after all I’ve been through. Have you GOT THAT?”
A snort of laughter escaped Hawkins’s lips. Martinez was having similar difficulties maintaining a professional demeanor.
Gus inched along behind, gently tugging at her torn blouse. “Kyoko,” he whispered. “This is the navy. We don’t want to get in trouble.”
Shrimpman recovered and leaned toward Kyoko with an outraged expression.
Captain Copeland’s voice unexpectedly came up in Hawkins’s headset. “God damn it, Hawkins,” Copeland shouted. “What’s going on over there?”
Hawkins wasn’t sure what to say. It’s bad form to call an officer in your chain of command a total idiot. He touched his mic button. “Sir. Lieutenant Shrimpman is counseling the civilian captain on ship safety, but the young woman is taking exception.”
Gus reached for Kyoko, but Hawkins’s reply distracted him. “What did you say?” Gus asked Hawkins.
“Nothing,” Hawkins replied. “Talking to the boss.” He nodded off the port beam. The massive New Orleans warship was positioned fifty yards away.
Shrimpman spewed out a general condemnation of Kyoko, her appearance, and that of the ship. He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated movement to prove how pissed off he was and rocked back on his heels. Kyoko drew her arm drawn back, making a tight little fist.
When Shrimpman leaned forward again to launch into another tirade, Kyoko’s right cross caught him solidly on the jaw. He fell backward over the railing, doing a complete backflip.
Hawkins burst out
laughing.
“Kyoko!” Gus cried, and pulled her away from the railing. He called to Hannah. “Catch him quick, before he drifts out of the atmosphere.”
Hawkins, still chortling, eased Gus aside. “It’s okay, sir, his suit will take care of him. See?” Sure enough, Shrimpman’s helmet had already closed. He floated clear of the ship, waving his arms and legs. Hawkins clicked over to command frequency. “Hang on, sir. We’re coming.” He grabbed the end of Gus’s rope and stepped over the rail to push off after his boss.
Copeland barked at him again, “Hawkins, respond!”
“Sir, Hawkins here. We have one adult male and two adult females on the ship. Lieutenant Shrimpman informed the captain he was going to destroy their ship, and the woman struck him in the face. We’re retrieving the Lieutenant now, sir.”
Gus joined the NCOs at the railing and helped pull Hawkins and the young officer back aboard. He tried to apologize for the incident, but Hawkins only chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, sir. I got the whole thing on video, and my buddies are still not going to believe it.”
*.*.*.*
Kyoko pushed Hannah away once more. “I’m okay. Help Grandfather.”
Her head pounded like a jackhammer, and her hand hurt where she’d slugged that guy. She leaned against the capstan, trying to clear the dizziness, and saw a gray ship sitting off the port beam. A smaller ship flew out of its hangar and appeared to be headed their way. Damn pirates. She made her way down to the gun deck.
*.*.*.*
On the bridge of the New Orleans, the XO’s voice cracked going up an octave. “Sir?”
“I see it, XO.” Copeland saw it, but he couldn’t believe it. Along the galleon’s ancient hull, one of the gun ports was opening inch by inch with halting, jerky movements. Was a pre-historic sailing vessel that was somehow floating in space actually about to open fire on the New Orleans, the deadliest spacecraft ever created by mankind? He looked through the binoculars again. The old man was helping pull Shrimpman aboard, but the woman who slugged him was nowhere to be seen.
“Hawkins! What’s going on over there? Are you sure there are only three people?”
On the deck once again Hawkins replied, “Just a minute sir, I’m putting my suit on speakerphone.” He repeated the question for Gus.
Gus nodded emphatically. “There’s only me, Hannah, and Kyoko.” The old man looked left and right, but one of the women had gone missing.
“Yes, sir.” Hawkins relayed to Captain Copeland. “He says there are only three of them. Should I search the ship?”
“Hell yes, you should search the ship,” Copeland barked. “And be quick about it.”
A black muzzle was now visible in the gun port. The blonde woman feverishly rammed something down the barrel.
This was right out of the textbook. What do you do in a peacetime encounter with a civilian ship and you suspect the crew may have a hostile intention? Or, what do you do when they appear helpless and need assistance? Or, what if you can’t tell what their intentions are? Scores of commanders had learned the hard way that perception isn’t reality. But one thing never changes; a ship captain’s job is to protect his ship. And now Copeland was staring down a cannon barrel clearly about to be fired on. He didn’t hesitate.
“Battle stations!”
“Aye, sir!” the XO said. “Battle stations!”
Alarms and klaxons went off all over the ship. The sound of pounding feet echoed in every corner as gun covers retracted, radars flared into activity, and missile launchers readied.
Copeland peered through his binoculars. “Where’s the second scout?” he demanded.
“Just launched, sir.”
Hawkins tried to explain that this was Captain Gus, the famous survivors from the Solar Princess incident two years ago.
“Hawkins!” Copeland shouted. “Quit talking and search the ship. Something’s happening on the gun deck. Move it, man, they’re about to fire on us.”
His men were acting like Dumb and Dumber. One ran onto the forecastle, another was on the poop deck. Two started climbing the shrouds for God knew what. The old man had Hawkins by the arm, trying to tell him something. Copeland shook his head and looked at his XO.
“Arm the Hanzo.”
“Sir!”
*.*.*.*
Gus was surrounded by mass confusion. He worried that Kyoko might have re-injured herself, but first, he needed to sort out the chaos and explain that she hadn’t meant any harm when she’d slugged the redheaded officer.
Hawkins shouted at his men to search the ship, and Gus heard the radio crackling that someone was about to fire from the gun deck. The words hit him like a freight train.
No!
Surely not…
Gus looked over the side and saw the gun port open, the black iron barrel sticking out.
“Oh my God,” he whispered to himself. “Not again.” He shouted and sprinted for the stairs. “No, Kyoko. No!”
*.*.*.*
Copeland flinched when a jet of fire erupted from Alyssa’s gun deck and a loud CRACK came from the bridge’s view window. Spidery fracture lines spread outward from the new dimple in the center of the supposedly indestructible transparent barrier. He glanced at his XO with an incredulous expression.
“I cannot fucking believe this.”
“Sir!” the XO replied. “Shall we evacuate the bridge?”
“Stay at your posts,” Copeland said. He pointed at the edges of the new cracks. They were slowly disappearing. The self-healing system had kicked in. Although the window had been seriously damaged it had not given way. In a calm voice that understated his emotions, he said, “But keep us at General Quarters.”
“Sir!”
A Hanzo missile belatedly departed the New Orleans bow and flew across the deck of the galleon, slicing through some of the rigging, and then disappeared out into the cosmos.
*.*.*.*
When Alyssa’s deck jerked sideways, Gus bounded down the stairs, calling for Kyoko. Hawkins and Martinez, their amusement gone, were right behind him. The cramped gun deck was filled with a blue, smoky haze coming from the cannon that had rolled inboard in its breeches. Tiny sparks floated out of the barrel. Kyoko stood next to the gun port, a primer lanyard dangling from her hand and black soot on her face.
“Grandfather. We have to....” Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed.
15 – A New Start
“Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear,
Your head like the golden-rod,
And we will go sailing away from here
To the beautiful land of Nod.”
(Ella Wheeler Wilcox, “The Beautiful Land of Nod”)
Gus examined Kyoko quickly and decided she had just overdone it after regaining consciousness. “I’m taking her back to her room,” he said to Sergeant Hawkins.
“Yes sir,” Hawkins replied. “But if you could just hold on for a second, let me call for a medic. We have one on our launch, and we have medicine. You don’t.” He spoke into his helmet mic. “I need Luciana on the lower deck pronto.”
“What do you mean?” Gus said.
“Captain Gus, I’ve been watching you every day for two years. We all thought you were dead after that pirate attack.”
Gus had no idea what Hawkins was talking about. How could the man have any idea about what he and the girls had gone through? But at the moment that didn’t matter. “Medical help would be great, Sergeant,” Gus said.
A uniformed woman appeared. She had a winged caduceus insignia above her name tag. Gus gave her a quick rundown on Kyoko’s condition.
The medic said, “Sir, I recommend moving her to our hospital bay. From what you say, she may have internal injuries. And if she’s been unconscious for that long, the doctor will want to do a brain scan.”
“I’m coming with you,” Gus said.
“Not a problem, sir.” The medic called for a stretcher. She attached a cuff to Kyoko’s upper arm and other diagnostic leads to her fingers and
torso.
“Hannah!” Gus called out. He found her peeking from the companionway, unwilling to come closer. Gus took her up to the main deck.
“I’m taking Kyoko to the doctor on the navy ship. I need you to stay here as our crew. Otherwise, they may say that Alyssa is abandoned and destroy her. We appear to be in the navy’s way.”
Hannah nodded reluctantly, and her face was filled with fear. “Will you come back for me?”
“Of course, I will. I just want one of us aboard.”
Hawkins appeared at Gus’s side and pointed at the second launch now rafted up to the side rail. “Captain Gus, this is Lieutenant Jackson. He’s the new on-scene commander. Sir!”
Yet another uniformed officer had arrived on the deck.
“Captain Gus,” Jackson said. “Sir, it is an honor to meet you. I just overheard your comments. I promise you there is no intention on our part to make any claim or do any damage whatsoever to your ship. I am here to render aid; that’s all.”
Gus looked at the man skeptically. He had received many kinds of assurances from the government over the years and learned the hard way that any verbal promise, no matter how well-intentioned, was worth squat.
“Hannah,” Gus said. “You go with Kyoko. I’ll stay here.”
Hannah shook her head vehemently. “What if they put me in jail?”
“That’s crazy. Why would they do that?”
“Kyoko shot them with the cannon.”
“Well, that’s true,” Gus said. Maybe she had a point.
Alyssa’s voice boomed over the deck. “Captain Gus, stand by for a message from retired Rear Admiral Daniel Wesson, Assistant Secretary of the Navy for Research, Development, and Acquisition.”
“Who?”
A new voice came across Alyssa’s speaker system. “Captain Gus, this is Dan Wesson. Can you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Gus said, wondering what was going on.
“I’m retired from the navy, but I’m here on the cruiser off your port beam. I’m on the bridge.”
Gus looked over at the massive warship. Sure enough, standing in the bridge’s main viewport an older man wearing a coat and tie was waving at him. A military officer stood by his side.