by Layla Stone
Pax cast his eyes back down to the Minky pad lying next to him. The thin, black, square electronic device still showed the response from the logistics officer. The one trying to deny Pax the sweetness of his life.
Commander Pax,
Your justification for whiskey does not fit the Federation’s nutrient and ration guidelines. However, if you have a personal preference or a unique diet, you will have to send your request through the commissary with justification from medical. You can fill out the proper documentation on your assigned Minky or by opening the attached forms.
V/R
Vivra
Logistics Officer
Garna Star Carrier
Pax knew the rules: no drinking on shift. But after that, it was fine. The fact that Garna’s logistics officer had turned down his request citing a generalized regulation was grating. Pax knew from experience that some logistics officers enjoyed ordering anything and everything. And then there were the others, who were tight with materials and food, buying only the necessities and nothing else. Apparently, Vivra was one of the strict types.
Which meant that Pax had to find someone else who could get him a case. Because what was the point of having a private bar in his officer’s cabin if he didn’t have any alcohol?
Pax had gotten Pegna’s logistics officer to order him the glasses and shelves. He should have pressed to get a few cases of whiskey, as well. A few cases would have lasted a good month at least—depending on whether the captain joined him or not.
Standing up, Pax stretched his naked body; hard muscle, bone, and sinew under a series of battle scars. Seven months being forced to fight in a gladiator arena would do that to an undefeated champion.
He set the glass next to his empty bottle of whiskey on the small table then entered the private bathroom. Inside, he checked on his clothes that were in the washing and drying cleaner. A few more minutes, and they would be done. Next, he looked in the mirror and saw his thick, black hair pulled into a ponytail. Deciding right then that he needed a change, he used the ship’s sheers to shave his hair off.
That done, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water, letting the heat warm his back. Pax let the temperature lull him for a few moments before he allowed his mind to set up his to-do list. First day on the ship, he would have to visit his new office, his crew, and check out the ship levels in more detail. He liked to have a mental and visual account of everything he was responsible for keeping safe and secure.
Garna was the biggest ship in the Federation. A star carrier. It was a mile wide, and three miles from bow to stern. It had a hard hull, and could take a lot of heat before it was compromised—not that it was impenetrable, it wasn’t.
In the fifty years that the ship had been operational, it had taken missions that dealt with planet-wide emergencies. It was also known for its high casualty rate, due to non-standard directives. Pax had no idea why Captain Rannn had been assigned to the prominent ship. Rannn preferred battleships that controlled the Federation and OutWorld territory lines.
Pax wondered if living through the last tragedy had earned the captain greater honor amongst the council admirals. Regardless of why the captain had been given Garna as his next duty station, Pax, and Rannn’s two other comrades had followed their captain. In addition to Pax, Yon, and Ansel, Rannn had requested Sasha—another pilot—her husband Sci, and the mechanical genius, Sands, the cyborg.
Either way, Pax was happy to have his own cabin again and be back on a ship. He’d had enough of the desert Angny planet as a slave fighter with constant wounds and broken bones from daily, fight-to-the-death battles.
After showering and dressing in clean clothes, Pax made his way to level six and exited the elevator. The first thing he saw was medical. It spanned the front bow of the level.
Pax took the hallway leading aft. He stopped at the first division section, ecosystems, he peeked in just to see how everything looked, and determine who was on shift.
The air filtration system was humming. Good sign that everything was in tip-top shape.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Looking around, Pax noticed that no one was in the room. Maybe they were working on a broken vent or something. Or, they were between shifts. Pax exited the room and continued down the hallway.
Passing hydro and aquaponics, the doors already open in greeting, he noticed it looked and sounded just as quiet as ecosystems.
Deliberating going in for another half second, he figured he might as well get a better view of the large room.
As he walked through the doors, he was greeted by the overpowering smell of dung. The ripe fumes of the waste startled his senses, causing him to close his mouth and cover his nose. If someone were working, it wasn’t worth searching the entire division. He needed fresh air.
“Y’ello?” a male voice called out from the far side of the room.
The division was packed tightly with large boxes. Each labeled with numbers, not words, so Pax had no idea what was in them. But he could make a guess that it was manure.
“I’m up in the front,” Pax called back, his eyes watering a little as he was forced to breathe in through his mouth while answering.
A slight male wearing big, rubber boots, baggy, mesh overalls, and a grey Federation undershirt walked out from behind the boxes. His hands were hidden by blue gloves that looked as if they were covered in dirt. The male eyed Pax’s Federation shirt with his rank on it. “Hiya, Commander.”
The male had dark blond hair and pale eyes and his skin was light orange-yellow. He was a Hetten. A race of empaths. Which meant that the male standing in front of Pax would have been able to sense his discomfort. Noticeably, he didn’t comment on it.
Which was something Pax had gleaned from the few Hettens he knew. They could sense your feelings, but they didn’t generally comment on it, or even act as if they knew. Pax noticed that they were more open with each other about their emotions, but outside of their race, they didn’t encroach.
The interesting part was that the race, as a whole, was not known for their empathic ability. Instead, Hettens were known and revered for how they mated. They only did so once, and it was life-long. Once their mate died, so did they.
Pax had never had an issue with Hettens, but he did have issues with the females who talked endlessly about finding one and mating, acting as if they were better because they could mate. Unlike Demons, who didn’t have that life-altering bond.
Still, seeing the Hetten, Pax was happy that someone in the division was working. “Hi, I’m Pax. Ey, what is all this?”
“It’s a hydro and aquaponics room. I grow and raise the food we eat on the ship, or I will as soon as I get the right-sized tanks with seals that actually work…but I digress.” The male wiggled one hand back and forth. “These are seeds. I will plant them as soon as the new tanks arrive.”
“You grow all our food?” Pax had never been on a ship that grew its own food. There were nutrient bars, nutrient packs, hydrogenic juices, and slimes. Each one could last for over fifty years. There was no need for real food in space.
“No, I don’t grow everything.” The male puffed out his chest a bit. “But I do the basics. The cooks will order the things I can’t produce.”
Interesting.
Pax slapped both hands together. “The basics? As in…distilled grains?”
The male’s eyes widened a second, and a small, knowing smile crept over his face. “I may know how to do something like that.”
“I may have some keleps getting dusty in my account.”
The male gave him a long look, then waved him over. “Why don’t you come see what I’ve got.”
Pax couldn’t deny the bump in his blood flow.
“What’s your name?” Pax called out as the male rounded the corner to a tall stack of boxes.
“Name’s Dol.”
Pax rounded the barrier and saw a small vine growing from a little cup. �
�This is my pride and joy. Found a few seeds that were still sealed in a shipping container and was able to keep them from the cleaners after the last mission.”
Cleaners? Pax didn’t know what Dol was referring to, but he also didn’t know what he was looking at.
“Looks awesome…what is it?”
Dol smiled bright and proud. “This is,”—he gently moved his finger under the delicate, light green sprout— “a pinot noir grapevine.”
“Wine?” Pax recognized the kind of alcohol.
“That’s right. It’s a Terran wine. It will be a while before this one grows to what I used to have, but I’ll get it there.”
Pax was sure he was missing something. The crew was sparse, his vines were gone… “What happened to the ship?”
Dol’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t know?”
“No. I don’t.”
The male exhaled slowly, looking everywhere but at Pax. When the Hetten’s eyes finally found his, Dol said, “The ship contracted a contagious disease from Eldon. A lot of folks died, except a few of us.”
Pax wasn’t sure what to say. Hell, he didn’t even know what to think. Thankfully, he didn’t have to respond, Dol continued explaining. “Basically, everyone died. There were bodies everywhere. I pushed the dead out of here and locked the doors, but I figured it would only be so long before I died, too. The disease seemed to be airborne.”
A dark sadness crossed Dol’s eyes. “Didn’t think I’d be alive to tell this to anyone. But anyways, it took a few weeks before the Federation cleaning crew came, burned the bodies, all my vegetation, and anything organic. Everything else was scrubbed with a gamma cleanser.”
Pax found his voice. He’d been where this male was in a manner of speaking. He too hadn’t thought he’d be alive to tell anyone what had happened to him on the Angny planet. “And you survived?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know how.”
“How many people lived through it?”
“As far as I know, only thirty-six. It’s just us and the new crew that came with the captain.”
Thirty-six? Holy mother of Seth. “How many people can this bertha hold?” Pax asked Dol.
“Six thousand and forty-three.”
Pax rubbed his forehead with a palm. So many lives…even more than his last ship. Garna housed thousands, and Rannn’s last battleship only held hundreds.
“At least it smells better now,” Dol offered, sounding positive.
Weeks with rotting bodies…yeah, it likely smelled much better. Pax knew the stench of death and hated it. He’d had to smell it for seven months while he was held prisoner. Men dying daily…the blood…the rot…the tears and wails in the dark.
Closing his mind to those memories, he focused on the now. On Dol. “I don’t know if it smells better, Dol. It smells like manure.”
Dol chuckled. “True, but compared to rotting corpses, this smells like flowers.”
“Dol, if you think this smells like flowers, then you’re in the right field.” Pax touched the small vine. The little thing looked determined. He could respect that. He also admired Dol for keeping a positive outlook.
What he couldn’t respect was that the captain had not said one word about Eldon on the flight to the ship. And that…was not acceptable. “I’ll see you around, Dol. I expect to get reports on how our little guy is doing.”
“You got it. I will keep you updated!” Dol hollered at his back since Pax had already made it to the door, headed to see the captain.
***
Pax walked onto the bridge and gave Rannn a pointed look. Rannn was talking to Ansel via video call on the Minky screen.
“I’m going to have to interview all thirty-six and take samples to run some tests,” Ansel said.
“You do that. And you figure it out. If you can find a cure, that would make me feel a lot better. Especially since the old captain who died on the ship said on his video message that the disease was new, and they had no idea how to cure it,” Rannn said and then disconnected the transmission. To Pax, he said, “You hear about Eldon yet?”
Pax looked around the bridge and didn’t see another body. Apparently, there was no helmsman among the thirty-six survivors. The captain was at the controls, next to a large Minky screen with star charts and flight routes. If Pax was reading the current screen correctly, they were still in the Telee system close to Eldon.
Being so close to a planet with an unknown disease on it, Pax thought it appropriate to ask why they had not moved on. Considering what Pax had heard Rannn tell Clalls when they arrived, they already had a mission.
“The planet with a disease that killed thousands of crew members? Yes, I heard. I also noticed that we haven’t moved.” Pointing to the star chart, he asked, “Is there a reason we are orbiting Eldon?”
“Garna’s last mission was not completed. Admiral Armsono sent this ship to help the mass-hysteria of a planet-wide disease.” Rannn’s tone was sharp. Pissed.
Good. So was Pax.
“So, we stay here to try and cure a disease that already killed thousands of Federation crew members and…what, millions on the planet?”
“Billions. The disease killed billions. But I’m having Clalls look into the planet’s records. I want up-to-date accounts of how many deaths so we can find out more about the disease. Ansel is already working on a cure, and I sent Sasha and Sci down to the atmosphere to see if they can sense any survivors.”
In the few hours that they were aboard the ship, the captain had not settled down. He had gone straight to work and let Pax sleep like a baby. How sweet.
Pax was grateful for the rest, but he was commander of weapons and tactical response. He should have been with Sasha and Sci. It wasn’t like he was a telepath and could sense if anyone within a certain radius was conscious, but still, he should have been there. “There a reason you let me sleep in?”
Rannn shrugged. “Knew you would report in when you were ready.” His nonchalance was a façade. Rannn would likely beat heads together until he got the answers he wanted. “No one goes down to the planet. That’s my first order. My second is that you—” Rannn didn’t finish what he was saying. The door to the bridge opened, and Clalls the Night Demon walked in. He narrowed his eyes slightly and then announced, “Admiral Armsono is responsible for the upkeep of the planet’s files. He kept meticulous records, but he didn’t take corrective actions regarding the disease.”
Rannn set the ship to auto-pilot and walked to the captain’s chair. “Explain.”
Clalls put his Minky pad away in his Federation-issued grey pants. “Eldon was a thriving, habitable planet with their own recourses and industry. After inheriting it, Armsono didn’t do much of anything with it for over a hundred years.”
“Your point?”
“It ran itself. So, when they sent out a planet-wide call for help, Armsono sent Garna to solve their problem.” Clalls raised a single eyebrow. “And he should have sent a medical ship that specialized in quarantines and infectious diseases.”
Rannn snorted, but it was hollow. “I know. Ansel gave me a long lecture on the medical protocols that were ignored.”
Clalls’ tongue flicked the side of one tooth. “So, what are you planning to do about his obvious lack of proper response?”
Rannn leaned back in his chair and watched Clalls until the officer looked away. Once that happened, the captain answered, “I’m going to close out the mission. Report all my findings, and generate a lesson-learned like I’m supposed to do.”
Clalls didn’t look back at the captain. Instead, he pinched his lips together.
“You have something to say? Say it.”
“Armsono sent us on a mission that killed almost everyone on board, and you’re just going to report in a lessons-learned? I read your file. It stated that you take action and make fair and just decisions. And in case you think a lessons-learned is just…it’s not.”
Rannn stood up, tow
ering over the Night Demon. “I know what you’re feeling.”
Clalls’ whole body tensed.
Rannn continued, “I lost my crew, and I have that on my conscience every day. And I have vengeance in my blood for the person who caused it. His name is Jaccy. He broke my ship. Caused it to crash on a hostile planet where I lost everyone but me and three others. I assume Armsono is the one you’re pointing blame at. Fine. But you get me more evidence on his negligence, – and I can do more than write a report. I am Yunkin. I have to prove that someone is dishonorable before I make any accusations.”
Clalls sharply nodded before walking out. Once he was out, Rannn turned to Pax. “He’s going to find all the dirt he can on Armsono, isn’t he?”
Pax wasn’t sure if Rannn was asking because Pax and Clalls had attended the academy together or if it was because they were both Demons. To be fair, Pax had hated Clalls in the academy and hadn’t paid much attention to the big-toothed deal-maker back then. But Clalls was part Demon, and Demons were notorious for doing whatever it took to get what they wanted.
“You can count on it.”
The Kirca planet and lifestyle developed strong behaviors. It was known as Kirca blood, and that blood ran in all the Demons, supercharging them with vengeance and pride. Clalls was feeling it acutely. Which Pax understood. The fact that Clalls was bloodthirsty in his need to avenge the death of his crew meant that he would be protective of the surviving thirty-six. And that was good because Night Demons didn’t bond well with others. They were more solitary due to their physical abnormalities.
But then again, Night Demons didn’t usually join the Federation ranks. Clalls, like Pax, must have had his reasons for leaving the Kirca life behind.
Which reminded Pax... “The new logistics officer denied my order for whiskey.”
Rannn clearly heard him but didn’t respond. He was walking back to the helm.
“Which means, I may have to seduce the female to get her to warm up to me. It’s not going to be easy with such a stickler, but I’m willing to do what it takes.”