Wings of Steele- The Series, page 106
part #1 of Wings of Steele Series
“Oh,” smiled Lisa, “I'm the Admiral's aide, he asked me to meet him here...”
The hostess looked her up and down slyly, not sure whether to believe her or not. “Well he is here, let me check with him...”
“Oh, no need,” said Lisa pulling up the sleeve of her uniform blouse to reveal the screen of her eGo. “I'll just let him know I'm here...”
The hostess knew they didn't hand those devices out to just anybody. “Follow me, Cadet... welcome to the Officers Lounge.”
Well appointed, the lounge wasn't extravagant but it was very nice, decorated with rich wood trim, polished brass, stainless steel, glass and crystal. Winding their way between the tables, Lisa inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of finely grilled steaks, reminding her she'd skipped lunch. She glanced at the food on the tables she passed, this was much nicer than the galley food. Not that the galley food was bad, but this was like a fine restaurant.
The Hostess paused and pointed the rest of the way, “Last booth on the right,” she said politely.
“Ah, there she is,” waved Jack, “sit... sit.” Lisa slid into the booth next to her brother, a bowl of munchies sitting between the two men, drinks on the table. “Lisa, this is Commander Dar Sloane,” he waved. “Dar, this is my aide, Lisa Steele...”
Dar reached across the table to shake her hand, “Nice to meet you.” He glanced at Jack, “Is this your sister?”
Jack nodded, popping a chip into his mouth, “Yep.”
Dar grinned in Lisa's direction, “I heard you're a tough gal. Survived a punch out, survived in the wilderness and made friends with locals... is that all true?”
“And then some,” she boasted. “Fought some Volkens too...”
The Commander cocked his head to one side, “What's a Volken?”
Jack raised his index finger, “Think very large, hairy, fast, cat-wolf-bear thing, with a really bad attitude and saber teeth...”
Dar Sloane snorted a chuckle, “You're kidding, right?”
“Totally serious,” said Lisa. “Insanely vicious. And they hunt in packs. Scariest things I've ever seen...” She glanced at her brother, “Four hundred pounds?”
Jack nodded. “I'd have to say that was probably the average... some had to be closer to six or seven hundred pounds though.”
“That's a monster,” blurted Dar.
“You have no idea,” waved Jack, “until one is standing over you, looking down at you like you're lunch...”
“Speaking of which,” interjected Lisa, “Can we order food? I'm starving...”
CHAPTER THREE
UFW CARRIER CONQUEST, IRUJEN SYSTEM
Dar Sloane had taken Lisa out for a flight in one of the Conquest's two-seat fighter trainers to see the spectacle of New Vanus before the task force reached the gate to Irujen. That little jaunt continued to be a topic of conversation... along with Dar Sloane. Jack wasn't sure if she was more excited about flying a fighter-trainer, the celestial display of New Vanus or Commander Sloane. In retrospect, Jack supposed it didn't really matter... what mattered was that she was adjusting well, coping, not only to her new surroundings and situation, but to the loss of her friend, Nina Redwolf.
Jack was standing at the chart table in his office, making notes on the 3D hologram when Lisa strolled in from the bridge, the door hissing closed behind her. Gus bounced up off the floor and trotted over to greet her.
“Our delivery from Resurrection Station just landed in the bay.”
“Good, did we get all the parts we ordered?”
She shook her head, “I don't know, I haven't seen the manifest yet, it just touched down.”
“Ok, so let's go take a look...”
Lisa pointed at her eGo, “We'll - get - the - manifest - here...” she said slowly. “Or here...” she added, indicating her e-Pad.
“Well, I'd like to get out of my office, take a walk and go see, if you don't mind.”
She waggled her finger at her brother, “You want to make sure the old CAG gets off the ship, don't you...” It was more a statement than a question.
Jack made a face of distaste. “Mmm, sue me, there's something about him I don't trust.” Jack slid his eGo onto his wrist. “I got Dayle Alaroot to put a couple of our Marines on our friend... keep an eye on him.”
“Dar said he was a real hardass... kind of an asshole,” Lisa volunteered. Jack shot her a glance. “Yeah, I know, I know,” she waved. “Respect. For your information he wants me to call him Dar... and yes, I know I have to make sure not to do it out there.”
Jack didn't reply, just smirked, waving her out the door, the halves disappearing into the wall. Pausing in the doorway he looked back, “You coming?” Fritz nodded and sliding off the sofa, stretched leisurely as Gus trotted past him. “Don't let me rush you or anything...” said Steele, sarcastically.
“OK,” replied the dog with a toothy grin. He sauntered out past his human, onto the bridge. Having gotten used to their presence, the bridge crew paid no attention to the two dogs. “Where we go?” asked Fritz.
“Flight bay,” offered Lisa. “We're going to spend an hour doing what we could have done comfortably in the office in five minutes...”
“Why?” he asked looking up at her as they walked down the corridor, Jack and Gus trailing behind.
“You got me,” she shrugged, nodding slyly towards her brother, “it wasn't my idea...”
“Funny,” said Jack, “but you know, he doesn't always understand when you're kidding...”
“Yes I do,” muttered the dog. “It just not funny...”
“Oh, damn!” laughed Jack, “Burn!”
■ ■ ■
The freight shuttle was parked off to the right of the traffic and landing lanes, crew members loading and unloading hoverdollies from the shuttle to the deck and to the large cargo movers. The pilot was leaning against the boarding ladder to the cockpit chatting with a deckhand from the Conquest.
“Coming to see me off, Admiral?” asked the retiring CAG sarcastically. “I'm flattered.”
Ignoring the frosty reception, Steele passed him a data chip. “The UFW Directorate would like me to extend their sincere gratitude for your service, Commander. There is a nice little early retirement bonus included in your pension documents... it's on page ten, I believe...”
“Save it, Admiral,” he waved. “You're taking away a whole year of service and I'm getting a little bonus. That sucks and you know it. I'm getting screwed...”
“On the contrary,” countered Jack. “Your bonus is a full year and you're getting a full pension... Do yourself a favor Commander, take a vacation, you deserve one. Go see your family. Go...”
“Screw that, Admiral,” he waved, “this is all I know. I've got nobody out there...”
Steele remained stoic. “Then move to the private sector, Commander. There are hundreds of companies who could put a man with your experience to good use. And the pay is certainly...”
“Maybe I'll go sign on with the FreeRangers...” the Commander said with an evil grin. “I hear their pay is pretty good...”
Steele's jaw set and he exuded calm, though the Commander didn't know it was the calm before the storm if he continued to push. “You could do that. But it would be a mistake. A big one. At a minimum, you can kiss your pension goodbye. On the other hand, it could be seen as treason. I'm sure you're well aware of the military punishment for treason...”
“I'm not military anymore,” he waved the data chip. “I'm a civilian...”
Dar Sloane strolled up and nudged Lisa who was standing next to Marine Warrant Officer, Dayle Alaroot, “Hey, what's going on?” he nodded toward the conversation between the Admiral and the retiring Commander.
“Hello Commander,” Lisa said sweetly. “The Admiral just gave the CAG his walking papers and the CAG is not happy.”
“Oh,” nodded Dar, knowingly. “He's being himself... a total asshole.”
“He's doing it to the wrong person,” interjected Dayle. He exchanged glances with Corporal Dunnom on the far side of the shuttle's cargo ramp, the two Marines communicating wordlessly. “He's about to have a very bad day if he's not careful.”
“Think the Admiral would toss him in the brig?” asked Dar.
Dayle Alaroot smirked wickedly, “I'm more worried the CAG is going to push too far and the Admiral's going to permanently rearrange his face... and a few choice body parts.”
“You're joking...”
“Nope,” replied Lisa. “He is not someone to be fucked with.”
Dar Sloan's eyes widened. “Really... because the CAG is a scrapper... every time we had leave, we were pulling him out of a bar fight...”
“He's in over his head...” said Dayle, not taking his eyes off the two men. “Trust me...”
Fritz was keeping an eye on the altercation as well, circling slowly to a flank position, reading their body language and testing the air with his nose for the chemical changes that telegraphed a physical confrontation. The air was thick with testosterone and the CAG looked agitated. Agitated but unfocused, indecisive, nervous. Jack was calm but guarded, his hands open and ready.
Dar was trying to listen but couldn't hear the words. “I can't hear them, can you?”
Lisa shook her head, “No, too much noise.” She glanced around at the heavy cargo units moving past.
The CAG was pointing now, poking at the Admiral without touching him. Dayle Alaroot nodded over at Corporal Dunnom. “We've decided if he touches the Admiral, we take him down.”
“Might be best for him,” commented Lisa. They watched Jack rest his hand on the top of the CAG's shoulder, it appeared to be a friendly, comforting gesture. “OK, I wasn't expecting that...”
“Nope,” confirmed Dayle, “went a completely different way than I thought it...” The CAG shuddered once, like a small convulsion, his arms flopping to his side before he went completely limp and collapsed to the deck like a bowl of spilled spaghetti. “OK, wasn't expecting that either,” said Dayle, stepping quickly to the Admiral's side.
“You OK, Admiral?”
Jack took a deep cleansing breath, “I'm fine Dayle.” He looked down at the unconscious CAG, a circle of people appearing to all take a look. “He just would not shut the hell up...”
Dayle Alaroot looked over at the Admiral, “You'll have to show me how you did that sometime, sir.”
“Sure thing, Dayle.”
“What do you want us to do with him? Brig? Medical?”
“No, no, he'll be fine in about a half hour. He'll probably have a headache though... Just find a seat and strap him in. Let him be someone else's problem.” Steele shook his head as the two Marines lifted the unconscious man off the deck. “He's got some serious anger issues...” Steele turned back as the two Marines dragged the former CAG's limp form up the cargo ramp. “Oh, and scan his gear. I want to be sure whatever he's taking is rightfully his...”
■ ■ ■
The Officer's Club was full. But when the Admiral shows up with the ship's Captain, you find them a table. Period. Even when there's a dog in the mix. No arguments. The hostess had no problem finding them a booth, and the officers she moved offered no complaint, moving to the bar with their food and drinks.
Jack laid his e-Pad on the table as they seated themselves, ordering their dinner and drinks. He found himself biting the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking into laughter when Fritz ordered his own steak, meduim-rare of course. The waitress' stunned expression was priceless as she stared wide-eyed at the dog sitting like a gentleman at the back of the booth.
Jack waited until she was out of earshot. “So, Mr. Ryan...” he said leaning in, “we've got quite a stash of parts that came in for the work on the flight bay's stasis field emitters. Not enough to do every launch bay, but a little more than half. We cleaned Resurrection Station out of their entire stock. Any ideas where we can pick up a few more along the way?”
“We can detour to Blackmount...”
Jack looked down at the blank e-Pad screen, thinking. “That's quite a detour. I'd rather not...” His eyes flicked up and he leaned back against the booth.
Captain Ryan rubbed his chin in thought, “We can order the parts from Tanzia, Phi Lanka or Yarwa Station... they might be able to get them into our next resupply.”
“Might, hmmm...” Steele pinched his lower lip. “When's our next resupply?”
The Captain paged through several screens on his eGo. “A resupply ship is due to meet us in forty-six days.”
“And if our parts miss that transport?”
Ryan shrugged, “If they send it direct through a parts shipper, maybe the same time frame. If not, it could be more than three months.”
Jack shook his head, “I don't want to wait that long. Are there any places on our patrol route that might have some of what we need?”
Anthony Ryan had been around the proverbial block a few times, if the block was the galaxy... He closed his eyes and bowed his head, reviewing the chart in his mind which he found easier than trying to see it on the small screen of the eGo. He suddenly looked up, “Rikovik's Reef...”
“Is that a system or a planet?” interrupted Steele.
“A system. There's not much there, except the rock in the middle of the system where it gets its name. It's what's left of a mined-out asteroid field. A guy named Rikovik crash-landed on the rock about a hundred years ago and since they couldn't get back off, started a station. The mine offices and equipment were abandoned there so he had the tools... It's expanded into a trade hub of sorts. The station sits on it and runs through it.”
“Must be a pretty big rock...”
The Captain nodded, “About fifteen or sixteen miles across.”
“That is a pretty big rock,” mused Jack, “gotta be about fifty miles around, then...”
“Well it's not exactly round,” countered the Ryan. “It's more oblong with a flat side. They say he was trying to land on the flat side to salvage the equipment and went in a little hot. Wasn't even close to his landing zone...”
“Bad planning?”
“Drinking,” smirked the Captain. “He was hammered at the time.”
“I'll bet the crew was thrilled...”
“They were all drunk, as I heard it,” he waved. “Sat on that rock for a month until the alcohol was all gone. When they sobered up, they went to work. The thing now spans across to another rock and they've fastened the two together. ”
“So this is more than a station, it's a small inhabited planetoid...”
“Oh yeah. It's not pretty, but it's got its charms I guess. They have manufacturing, agriculture, warehousing... The population wavers, but I hear it's about a hundred-thousand people. It's got a healthy black market too. And because of its relative remoteness, there's usually an abundance of parts...”
Steele sipped his drink. “Sounds worthy of a look.”
“Of course we might have a little problem there...”
“What's that?”
“They're fairly neutral,” explained Ryan, “but let's just say their clientele isn't totally enamored with the UFW.”
“Pirates?”
“They preferred to be called FreeRangers, but yes. Pirates, freelancers, traders, shippers, smugglers, corporations...”
“Wonderful. Interesting mix.”
“Yes, it is. So in light of their favored clientele, they might refuse to deal with us.”
“Hmm,” nodded Jack, “I can be pretty convincing.” “
“I've noticed that...” smirked Ryan, sipping his drink.
“I'm sure we can come to some agreement that will make everyone happy.”
The Captain leaned back so the waitress could put the plates of food on the table, the steaks still sizzling, fresh off the grill. “It's sure to ruffle a few feathers but I expect we'll get what we need if they have it.”
Steele glanced at Fritz as a little string of drool left the corner of his mouth. “You're drooling...” Jack began cutting up the dog's steak for him.
“Sorry,” mumbled the dog, licking his chops. “Smells good.”
Annoyed, not too understanding of the animals as friends thing, Anthony Ryan tried not to look, instead concentrating on his own meal. “Umm, so, where were we?”
Jack sipped his wine. “You were going to tell me why you let some of these things go, why you hadn't taken care of these issues earlier...”
“Permission to speak freely, Admiral?”
“Sure.”
“I did not have operational control of the Conquest. Admiral Pottsdorn...”
“Was nuts. I understand,” interrupted Jack. “There was no way of circumventing him to get things done and ensure the safety of your crew?”
The Captain stopped mid-chew, sighing pensively. “In many respects I was powerless to do anything without his approval. He had six aides. One was always present on the bridge, another with him round the clock. On shifts. They kept track of everything whether he was present or not. It was maddening.” He tried not to watch the dog eating off the plate on the table but it was difficult to ignore. He looked away.
“So you gave up then?” asked Jack, sampling his vegetables.
“No, I did what I could under the confines of the restraints put upon me.”
“Did you ever inform the Fleet Admiral or the Directorate of what was going on?” Steele stabbed a piece of steak with his fork.
“No sir. That would not have succeeded, I don't have the same kind of status or recognition...” he paused awkwardly, “you seem to have garnered. Anything coming from my position would have fallen on deaf ears.”
“I understand,” waved Steele. “I'll tell you what I need from you Anthony...” he said, pointing an empty fork in the officer's direction. “Honesty and open communication. I've read your record, you've got quite a distinguished career. Before Pottsdorn. You've been living under a glass for the last five years. But Pottsdorn's gone, that's over now. So I need you to be the officer you were before the crazy years. Can you do that?”
