Wings of Steele- The Series, page 113
part #1 of Wings of Steele Series
“Then stop being irrational,” he replied calmly. “You're letting your emotions run away with you. Get a grip.”
“Give me a shuttle.”
Jack couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of the idea. “That's like asking for an inner tube and a paddle to circumnavigate the globe. It's ridiculous.”
“We've got to do something.”
“We are doing something, Lisa. But everything has its limits. In our fastest ship, in a direct route, we're six to eight weeks away.” He stood up and stopped her pacing, his hands on her shoulders, “You know as well as I do...” he felt how damp she was and touched her back. “You're soaked. And you're shivering. Go take a hot shower,” he pointed at the bathroom. “I'll find you some fresh PJs.”
“What were you going to say?” she asked padding through Jack's quarters.
“That those things you and mom have are not always present-tense. They're possibilities... what might be.”
“I wish I could say that makes me feel better,” she shouted over the shower's rush of water. The warmth felt good, allowing her tense shivers to melt away as her body relaxed, unclenched. She spent a few minutes just letting the water pound on her muscles.
Stepping out of the shower, pulling a towel off the rack, she wrapping herself up. “Were you able to find something for me to wear? Or do I have to go back to my quarters in a towel?” She patted herself down and threw her wet hair over her shoulder after tucking the oversize towel into a beach wrap. “Jack?” She walked out of the bathroom, through the sleeping area into the salon. “Where'd you go...?”
The old man in the hooded cloak sat on the sofa, legs crossed at the knee, next to Fritz. Gus sat at his feet. “I believe he went to get you some fresh sleepwear my dear,” the old man said softly.
Lisa yelped, stumbling backwards, clutching at her towel, meeting the wall behind her. His presence startled her; she had not seen him in the dimly lit room. “Who are you?!” she demanded angrily, her eyes adjusting to the light.
“Friend,” said Fritz.
“Yeah... well...” she stammered, searching for words. “A warning would have been nice. Dammit.” Strangely, she didn't feel threatened. She wasn't sure what she felt, other than surprised. She tried to slow her heart. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she said in her sternest voice, forcing calm.
“Aww,” he said in mock disappointment, “you don't remember me...” He pulled his hood back, revealing his lined and weathered face.
Lisa's eyes grew wide and her hand shot over her mouth as she inhaled sharply, pointing at him with her free hand. “You're the man in the forest! On Veloria,” she whispered. “I thought I made you up...”
“No, I'm quite real.” he smiled. He sipped from a snifter of brandy she hadn't noticed a moment before.
“But...” there were so many questions running through her head.
He offered his snifter to her. “Here, take a sip.”
“I, I Don't drink.”
“Just a sip. It's some of the best brandy in the universe. Diterian Brandy. It will calm your nerves. You will like it. I promise.”
Oddly she trusted him completely. Lisa took the glass offered her and sipped. More than once before handing it back, the rich flavor and substantial body of the thick brandy warming her. “Mmm, that is good. Thank you.” She felt a calm radiate through her and wondered if it was the brandy or what he had said, some type of hypnotic suggestion. She knelt on the floor, sitting on her feet, Gus moving to her side.
“No my dear, not hypnosis, just really magical brandy.” He smiled and her heart warmed.
“You read minds,” she observed. “Interesting. I was wondering where you went. On Veloria I mean. I wanted to thank you...”
“I know,” he replied, “I heard you.”
“Why did you leave me?” she asked. “I was totally lost. I had no idea what to do or where to go...”
“You were never alone,” he waved. “There are certain things we have to accomplish on our own in order to grow. And you grew a lot that night. I am very proud of you; you are strong like your brother...”
“You know Jack?”
The old man smiled and nodded, “Jack and I are well acquainted.” He put his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Which brings me to our topic for tonight. Jack has a difficult job with a tremendous amount of responsibility and pressure on his shoulders.” The old man paused to sip the brandy, letting it slide down his throat. “You are his teammate. He needs you, and he needs you to be levelheaded so he can count on you. You cannot let him down. You are one of the very few people in the universe he trusts completely. He respects your opinion, but you need to work with him, not against him. Understand?”
“Sure,” she replied. “But I'm worried about our parents. Can you tell me...”
“I cannot,” he interrupted politely, holding up an open hand. “Anything I tell you could affect any number of decisions you make along the way. The repercussions could cross entire star systems. I assume you understand the Butterfly Effect?”
“Yes.”
“It is exactly for that reason. It could easily change the course of history and the lives of millions of beings for decades, centuries even. It must be what it must be.”
“There are certain things we have to do on our own...” she muttered.
“Exactly right,” he confirmed, rising from his seat. “Well, I've taken up enough of your time.” He bent down and kissed her on top of her head.
“Wait, what's your name?”
“Voorlak,” he replied, pulling the hood back over his head. “Jack likes to call me Old Man, when he thinks he's being irreverent.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No. It does accurately describe me, after all.” His form seemed to shift, changing transparency, perhaps changing planes of reality as he passed through the outer wall of the hull, disappearing completely.
“Whoa,” she breathed, “that's wicked cool.”
The door swished open, Jack carrying fresh pajamas. “Here you go kiddo,” he muttered, tossing them to her as he passed, heading back to bed.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm gonna sleep here, OK?”
“D'you snore?” he asked, flopping onto the bed.
“No.”
“Fine. Sleep wherever you want.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“Mm-hmm.”
■ ■ ■
The Conquest's senior staff was huddled around the holo-chart in the Admiral's office, the commanders of the Westwind and Revenge on vid-com, sitting in on the conference from the Captain's ready room of their own ships. A close-up of the Gedhepp System floated over the table, the task force holding station on the far edge of the asteroid field facing the gate to Rikovik's Reef.
It had been a long process, the ships slowly forging ahead through the asteroid field, either nudging aside the smaller chunks with their shields like an ice breaker ship through frozen water, or decimating larger asteroids with ship's guns. A full size version of the asteroid video game Jack remembered playing at the arcade as a kid. Thinking back on that made the corners of his mouth curl a little, almost imperceptibly.
“Between the information fed to us from the patrol and shuttle pilots,” began Captain Ryan, “and the information astrometrics and cartography discovered, we have determined that this field of what we've been calling asteroids is actually the remains of a planet in this system. Whether it broke apart on its own or it was impacted by something catastrophic, we don't know. If cartography is right, it is the remains of a planet in the fifth orbit from the sun.”
“And we're passing through what would be the fourth, aren't we?” asked Jack.
“Correct. Astrometrics estimates the rock field extends from the fourth orbit to the sixth.”
“My God, It's going to affect two other planets...”
“Correct. Fortunately they are uninhabited. It is apparent that their orbits have not carried them through so far. And the field is orbiting as well, but far slower than the orbit of the planet it used to be.”
“It's going to be a real mess when they do,” said Jack. “Things will be pinballing all over the system.”
“Pinballing?”
“Bouncing,” clarified Jack. “This stuff is going to scatter all over the place. The UFW may have to close or restrict access to the system. How soon before the closest planet makes contact?”
“About seventy days for the planet in the fourth orbit, about three hundred days for the sixth planet. The fourth planet is rather small, it may not survive its full orbit. The sixth planet will sustain damage but nothing to cause its destruction.”
“Is there anything sizable left of the fifth planet?”
“About one-half,” volunteered Pappy. “We found that the closer we got to the fifth orbit, the less-dense the field was. The pieces were bigger and easier to navigate. Also, less smoke and ash. The Zulu was able to get closer to take some scans. To me, it looked fairly hollow, sort of honeycombed.”
“Could it have been mined out?”
“It's possible,” offered the Westwind's Captain. “Once they're that fragile, an impact of some kind or instability in her tectonic plates or core and it tears itself apart. If they drilled too deep it may have released some volcanic event... we'll probably never know. Because if it was a mining company, they will never admit to this.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest. “If this was a mining project, this is huge... hundreds of thousands of people had to be involved. It must have taken decades...”
“Not necessarily, Admiral,” countered the Westwind's Captain. “Standard mining, yes. But strip mining can be done on a planetary scale in five or six years by laser dredge ships. As you can see, they don't leave much...”
“You've seen this before, Captain?”
The Captain nodded, “Yes, unfortunately. I was a cruiser commander at the time. We were tasked with clearing the mess out of the system because it threatened an inhabited planet. Our group was there nearly three months blasting what was left into dust. I don't think the inhabited planet was ever the same after that. I remember reading some time later that it had severely affected their seasonal climate because the cosmic dust floated between the planet and their sun.”
“Did you ever find out who the mining outfit was?”
“Not to my knowledge, Admiral. Although I remember VirTech Mining being a suspect.”
“There's that name again,” said Steele, stone faced. “Somebody who knows what goes on in operations like this has to have a conscience. We just need to find that somebody.”
“Needle in a haystack,” volunteered Brian from the Captain's office on the Revenge.
“A really big haystack,” offered Paul Smiley.
“Dissension in the ranks,” breathed Jack, staring blankly at the holo-chart. “And they won't be alone, there will be others. Scuttlebutt spreads like wildfire; we just need to get it to come to us...”
“I know that look,” said Brian. “Whatcha thinking, Ja, er, Admiral?” Brian caught himself, his mind stumbling across Jack, then Skipper, finally spitting out the right title.
“I have an idea...”
Paul looked at Steele across the chart table, only seeing half of him through the holo-chart floating between them. “Do I even dare ask...?”
■ ■ ■
“So let me get this straight,” said Lisa, as she and Jack walked down the corridor from the meeting. “The Revenge is now the Raven?”
“Right...”
“And you're not you. You're Jax Mercury?”
“You got it.”
“Who the hell am I, then?”
“You're you.” he replied.
“What if I don't want to be me?”
Jack stopped mid stride, pausing in the corridor. “Why would you want to be somebody else? I have to because they may know my name; it's connected with the Freedom...”
“And whose last name do I have?” she queried.
“Oh. Yeah.” Doh!
“Yeaaah...” she teased. “And you're the Admiral.”
Jack rested his hands on his hips. “Ok, so who do you want to be?”
“Princess Sunshine,” she joked.
He rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Over my dead body. It needs to be similar,” he explained, “something easy to remember.” He snapped his fingers, “How about Lisa Stone?”
“Ooh, like Sharon Stone... OK, I like that.”
■ ■ ■
Steele belted the holster around his waist, strapping it to his thigh, dropping in the .45 caliber, 1911 semi-auto, charged particle blaster. He tested the release and reholster to be sure it was smooth and secure. It felt good to be in civilian clothes again, something akin to what he used to wear on the Freedom. Dark gray form-fitted pants tucked into high boots, a dark blue, high collar shirt and a leather flight type jacket. All-in-all, comfortable and stylish. The ship's tailor had done an extremely nice job of making him look like an entrepreneurial ship's owner... with a slant towards bad boy.
He hefted the duffel off the floor and took one last look around his quarters, “C'mon, dog, time to go.” Fritz jumped up with a snort and a quick wag, beating him to the door.
■ ■ ■
Lisa was already at the shuttle, having an animated chat with Dar Sloane, her duffel stowed in the cargo compartment. She was dressed in tall flight boots and a leather and fabric body suit, a 1911 particle blaster like Jack's belted around her waist, strapped to her thigh, having traded her trusty Glock for something with a little more punch.
“Well look at you, Ms. Stone,” commented Jack, strolling up. “Slick outfit.”
“Looking good, Mr. Mercury,” she retorted. “Nice touch,” she indicated his unshaven stubble. “My friend, Mr. Sloane here,” she patted Dar Sloan's shoulder, “has promised to look after Gus for me while we're gone.”
“Good deal.” replied Jack, somewhat distracted. He pointed at the open gull-wing doors on the four-person shuttle from the Revenge, Ensign Tusker seated at the controls in the pilot's seat. “Go ahead Fritz.” The German Shepherd jumped up over the door threshold into the seat next to Tusker. When Jack turned back, Lisa and Dar were lip-locked like two horny teenagers tongue-wrestling under the high school bleachers. “Aww, crap, I didn't want to see that,” groaned Steele. “Eww...” He grabbed his sister by the collar and pulled her away, dragging them apart. “Time to go, Barbie,” he said sarcastically. “Tell Ken you'll see him again at the sock-hop.”
Buckled in, gull wing doors closed and secure, Lisa waved and Dar looked on sheepishly, smiling back. Jack glared at him through the canopy perspex. He didn't dislike or even hold it against the pilot, he knew the two had been spending a lot of time together... it was just seeing it. It was, well, ugh. He shuddered. OK, shake it off.
The shuttle lifted off the deck, rotating smoothly, heading out through the blue stasis field, passing over the Conquest's fantail. Lisa was still looking over her shoulder back at the flight deck.
“Stop it,” hissed Jack. “Stop acting like a lovesick puppy...”
“But I really like him...”
“I think I got that,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I think everyone on the flight deck got that...”
She shrugged innocently, “Don't care.” She turned to him suddenly, “Ooh, I almost forgot! Did I tell you...?”
“What?”
“I don't care,” she repeated smugly.
■ ■ ■
The landing bay of the Revenge was almost claustrophobic compared to the Conquest's, a mere closet, tightly packed, everything in its place. Tusker was busy securing the shuttle to the deck. Three shuttles shared space with cargo, parts and repair stalls.
Marine Sergeant Draza Mac dragged the duffel bags out of the shuttle's small cargo compartment. “Welcome aboard the Raven, Mr. Mercury, Ms. Stone...”
“Thank you, Mr. Mac. Are all of our temporary transfers aboard?”
“Aye, sir. All mission pertinent equipment and personnel aboard. The Skipper asked that we direct you straight to the bridge. I assume you remember the way?”
“Of course.”
Draza Mac hefted the bags. “Good. I'll make sure your things get to your quarters.” He paused, cocking his head, hearing the change in the tone of the ship's engines. “Sounds like the Skipper's got us under way. Once we clear this crap, it's less than an hour to the gate.”
■ ■ ■
The bridge crew of the Conquest was watching the Revenge, now the Raven, pull out of formation, heading toward the gate to Rikovik's Reef. She was moving cautiously, out of the planetary debris, leaving the Conquest and Westwind behind, hidden in the clutter and metallic dust. Even in the zero gravity, it clung to her hull, her movement leaving a trail of dust and ash like a wake behind her.
Captain Ryan stood up at his station and stretched, massaging his back with his hands as he watched the big screen. “Communications, I want double coverage on your station. I want full time monitoring on the Raven's emergency channel.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I want everybody fresh. Four hour shifts, no more. We're staying on yellow alert...” He looked over at his first officer. “You have the bridge, mister. I'll see you in four hours.”
“Aye sir.”
“I'll order up some food and drinks,” said Ryan turning towards his ready room. “Good luck Mr. Mercury,” he breathed without looking back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RIKOVIK'S REEF: DEN OF THEIVES
“Rikovik's Reef in thirty minutes, Skipper.”
“Understood.” Commander Brian Carter reclined in his chair, feet on his desk in the Captain's ready room, “Your quarters OK, Jack?”
Jack extended his legs on the couch, leaning against the armrest, Fritz already sound asleep on the floor next to him. “Sure, they're fine.”
“You didn't expect me to give up mine, did you?” Brian smirked crookedly.
“Give me a shuttle.”
Jack couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of the idea. “That's like asking for an inner tube and a paddle to circumnavigate the globe. It's ridiculous.”
“We've got to do something.”
“We are doing something, Lisa. But everything has its limits. In our fastest ship, in a direct route, we're six to eight weeks away.” He stood up and stopped her pacing, his hands on her shoulders, “You know as well as I do...” he felt how damp she was and touched her back. “You're soaked. And you're shivering. Go take a hot shower,” he pointed at the bathroom. “I'll find you some fresh PJs.”
“What were you going to say?” she asked padding through Jack's quarters.
“That those things you and mom have are not always present-tense. They're possibilities... what might be.”
“I wish I could say that makes me feel better,” she shouted over the shower's rush of water. The warmth felt good, allowing her tense shivers to melt away as her body relaxed, unclenched. She spent a few minutes just letting the water pound on her muscles.
Stepping out of the shower, pulling a towel off the rack, she wrapping herself up. “Were you able to find something for me to wear? Or do I have to go back to my quarters in a towel?” She patted herself down and threw her wet hair over her shoulder after tucking the oversize towel into a beach wrap. “Jack?” She walked out of the bathroom, through the sleeping area into the salon. “Where'd you go...?”
The old man in the hooded cloak sat on the sofa, legs crossed at the knee, next to Fritz. Gus sat at his feet. “I believe he went to get you some fresh sleepwear my dear,” the old man said softly.
Lisa yelped, stumbling backwards, clutching at her towel, meeting the wall behind her. His presence startled her; she had not seen him in the dimly lit room. “Who are you?!” she demanded angrily, her eyes adjusting to the light.
“Friend,” said Fritz.
“Yeah... well...” she stammered, searching for words. “A warning would have been nice. Dammit.” Strangely, she didn't feel threatened. She wasn't sure what she felt, other than surprised. She tried to slow her heart. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she said in her sternest voice, forcing calm.
“Aww,” he said in mock disappointment, “you don't remember me...” He pulled his hood back, revealing his lined and weathered face.
Lisa's eyes grew wide and her hand shot over her mouth as she inhaled sharply, pointing at him with her free hand. “You're the man in the forest! On Veloria,” she whispered. “I thought I made you up...”
“No, I'm quite real.” he smiled. He sipped from a snifter of brandy she hadn't noticed a moment before.
“But...” there were so many questions running through her head.
He offered his snifter to her. “Here, take a sip.”
“I, I Don't drink.”
“Just a sip. It's some of the best brandy in the universe. Diterian Brandy. It will calm your nerves. You will like it. I promise.”
Oddly she trusted him completely. Lisa took the glass offered her and sipped. More than once before handing it back, the rich flavor and substantial body of the thick brandy warming her. “Mmm, that is good. Thank you.” She felt a calm radiate through her and wondered if it was the brandy or what he had said, some type of hypnotic suggestion. She knelt on the floor, sitting on her feet, Gus moving to her side.
“No my dear, not hypnosis, just really magical brandy.” He smiled and her heart warmed.
“You read minds,” she observed. “Interesting. I was wondering where you went. On Veloria I mean. I wanted to thank you...”
“I know,” he replied, “I heard you.”
“Why did you leave me?” she asked. “I was totally lost. I had no idea what to do or where to go...”
“You were never alone,” he waved. “There are certain things we have to accomplish on our own in order to grow. And you grew a lot that night. I am very proud of you; you are strong like your brother...”
“You know Jack?”
The old man smiled and nodded, “Jack and I are well acquainted.” He put his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Which brings me to our topic for tonight. Jack has a difficult job with a tremendous amount of responsibility and pressure on his shoulders.” The old man paused to sip the brandy, letting it slide down his throat. “You are his teammate. He needs you, and he needs you to be levelheaded so he can count on you. You cannot let him down. You are one of the very few people in the universe he trusts completely. He respects your opinion, but you need to work with him, not against him. Understand?”
“Sure,” she replied. “But I'm worried about our parents. Can you tell me...”
“I cannot,” he interrupted politely, holding up an open hand. “Anything I tell you could affect any number of decisions you make along the way. The repercussions could cross entire star systems. I assume you understand the Butterfly Effect?”
“Yes.”
“It is exactly for that reason. It could easily change the course of history and the lives of millions of beings for decades, centuries even. It must be what it must be.”
“There are certain things we have to do on our own...” she muttered.
“Exactly right,” he confirmed, rising from his seat. “Well, I've taken up enough of your time.” He bent down and kissed her on top of her head.
“Wait, what's your name?”
“Voorlak,” he replied, pulling the hood back over his head. “Jack likes to call me Old Man, when he thinks he's being irreverent.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No. It does accurately describe me, after all.” His form seemed to shift, changing transparency, perhaps changing planes of reality as he passed through the outer wall of the hull, disappearing completely.
“Whoa,” she breathed, “that's wicked cool.”
The door swished open, Jack carrying fresh pajamas. “Here you go kiddo,” he muttered, tossing them to her as he passed, heading back to bed.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm gonna sleep here, OK?”
“D'you snore?” he asked, flopping onto the bed.
“No.”
“Fine. Sleep wherever you want.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“Mm-hmm.”
■ ■ ■
The Conquest's senior staff was huddled around the holo-chart in the Admiral's office, the commanders of the Westwind and Revenge on vid-com, sitting in on the conference from the Captain's ready room of their own ships. A close-up of the Gedhepp System floated over the table, the task force holding station on the far edge of the asteroid field facing the gate to Rikovik's Reef.
It had been a long process, the ships slowly forging ahead through the asteroid field, either nudging aside the smaller chunks with their shields like an ice breaker ship through frozen water, or decimating larger asteroids with ship's guns. A full size version of the asteroid video game Jack remembered playing at the arcade as a kid. Thinking back on that made the corners of his mouth curl a little, almost imperceptibly.
“Between the information fed to us from the patrol and shuttle pilots,” began Captain Ryan, “and the information astrometrics and cartography discovered, we have determined that this field of what we've been calling asteroids is actually the remains of a planet in this system. Whether it broke apart on its own or it was impacted by something catastrophic, we don't know. If cartography is right, it is the remains of a planet in the fifth orbit from the sun.”
“And we're passing through what would be the fourth, aren't we?” asked Jack.
“Correct. Astrometrics estimates the rock field extends from the fourth orbit to the sixth.”
“My God, It's going to affect two other planets...”
“Correct. Fortunately they are uninhabited. It is apparent that their orbits have not carried them through so far. And the field is orbiting as well, but far slower than the orbit of the planet it used to be.”
“It's going to be a real mess when they do,” said Jack. “Things will be pinballing all over the system.”
“Pinballing?”
“Bouncing,” clarified Jack. “This stuff is going to scatter all over the place. The UFW may have to close or restrict access to the system. How soon before the closest planet makes contact?”
“About seventy days for the planet in the fourth orbit, about three hundred days for the sixth planet. The fourth planet is rather small, it may not survive its full orbit. The sixth planet will sustain damage but nothing to cause its destruction.”
“Is there anything sizable left of the fifth planet?”
“About one-half,” volunteered Pappy. “We found that the closer we got to the fifth orbit, the less-dense the field was. The pieces were bigger and easier to navigate. Also, less smoke and ash. The Zulu was able to get closer to take some scans. To me, it looked fairly hollow, sort of honeycombed.”
“Could it have been mined out?”
“It's possible,” offered the Westwind's Captain. “Once they're that fragile, an impact of some kind or instability in her tectonic plates or core and it tears itself apart. If they drilled too deep it may have released some volcanic event... we'll probably never know. Because if it was a mining company, they will never admit to this.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest. “If this was a mining project, this is huge... hundreds of thousands of people had to be involved. It must have taken decades...”
“Not necessarily, Admiral,” countered the Westwind's Captain. “Standard mining, yes. But strip mining can be done on a planetary scale in five or six years by laser dredge ships. As you can see, they don't leave much...”
“You've seen this before, Captain?”
The Captain nodded, “Yes, unfortunately. I was a cruiser commander at the time. We were tasked with clearing the mess out of the system because it threatened an inhabited planet. Our group was there nearly three months blasting what was left into dust. I don't think the inhabited planet was ever the same after that. I remember reading some time later that it had severely affected their seasonal climate because the cosmic dust floated between the planet and their sun.”
“Did you ever find out who the mining outfit was?”
“Not to my knowledge, Admiral. Although I remember VirTech Mining being a suspect.”
“There's that name again,” said Steele, stone faced. “Somebody who knows what goes on in operations like this has to have a conscience. We just need to find that somebody.”
“Needle in a haystack,” volunteered Brian from the Captain's office on the Revenge.
“A really big haystack,” offered Paul Smiley.
“Dissension in the ranks,” breathed Jack, staring blankly at the holo-chart. “And they won't be alone, there will be others. Scuttlebutt spreads like wildfire; we just need to get it to come to us...”
“I know that look,” said Brian. “Whatcha thinking, Ja, er, Admiral?” Brian caught himself, his mind stumbling across Jack, then Skipper, finally spitting out the right title.
“I have an idea...”
Paul looked at Steele across the chart table, only seeing half of him through the holo-chart floating between them. “Do I even dare ask...?”
■ ■ ■
“So let me get this straight,” said Lisa, as she and Jack walked down the corridor from the meeting. “The Revenge is now the Raven?”
“Right...”
“And you're not you. You're Jax Mercury?”
“You got it.”
“Who the hell am I, then?”
“You're you.” he replied.
“What if I don't want to be me?”
Jack stopped mid stride, pausing in the corridor. “Why would you want to be somebody else? I have to because they may know my name; it's connected with the Freedom...”
“And whose last name do I have?” she queried.
“Oh. Yeah.” Doh!
“Yeaaah...” she teased. “And you're the Admiral.”
Jack rested his hands on his hips. “Ok, so who do you want to be?”
“Princess Sunshine,” she joked.
He rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Over my dead body. It needs to be similar,” he explained, “something easy to remember.” He snapped his fingers, “How about Lisa Stone?”
“Ooh, like Sharon Stone... OK, I like that.”
■ ■ ■
Steele belted the holster around his waist, strapping it to his thigh, dropping in the .45 caliber, 1911 semi-auto, charged particle blaster. He tested the release and reholster to be sure it was smooth and secure. It felt good to be in civilian clothes again, something akin to what he used to wear on the Freedom. Dark gray form-fitted pants tucked into high boots, a dark blue, high collar shirt and a leather flight type jacket. All-in-all, comfortable and stylish. The ship's tailor had done an extremely nice job of making him look like an entrepreneurial ship's owner... with a slant towards bad boy.
He hefted the duffel off the floor and took one last look around his quarters, “C'mon, dog, time to go.” Fritz jumped up with a snort and a quick wag, beating him to the door.
■ ■ ■
Lisa was already at the shuttle, having an animated chat with Dar Sloane, her duffel stowed in the cargo compartment. She was dressed in tall flight boots and a leather and fabric body suit, a 1911 particle blaster like Jack's belted around her waist, strapped to her thigh, having traded her trusty Glock for something with a little more punch.
“Well look at you, Ms. Stone,” commented Jack, strolling up. “Slick outfit.”
“Looking good, Mr. Mercury,” she retorted. “Nice touch,” she indicated his unshaven stubble. “My friend, Mr. Sloane here,” she patted Dar Sloan's shoulder, “has promised to look after Gus for me while we're gone.”
“Good deal.” replied Jack, somewhat distracted. He pointed at the open gull-wing doors on the four-person shuttle from the Revenge, Ensign Tusker seated at the controls in the pilot's seat. “Go ahead Fritz.” The German Shepherd jumped up over the door threshold into the seat next to Tusker. When Jack turned back, Lisa and Dar were lip-locked like two horny teenagers tongue-wrestling under the high school bleachers. “Aww, crap, I didn't want to see that,” groaned Steele. “Eww...” He grabbed his sister by the collar and pulled her away, dragging them apart. “Time to go, Barbie,” he said sarcastically. “Tell Ken you'll see him again at the sock-hop.”
Buckled in, gull wing doors closed and secure, Lisa waved and Dar looked on sheepishly, smiling back. Jack glared at him through the canopy perspex. He didn't dislike or even hold it against the pilot, he knew the two had been spending a lot of time together... it was just seeing it. It was, well, ugh. He shuddered. OK, shake it off.
The shuttle lifted off the deck, rotating smoothly, heading out through the blue stasis field, passing over the Conquest's fantail. Lisa was still looking over her shoulder back at the flight deck.
“Stop it,” hissed Jack. “Stop acting like a lovesick puppy...”
“But I really like him...”
“I think I got that,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I think everyone on the flight deck got that...”
She shrugged innocently, “Don't care.” She turned to him suddenly, “Ooh, I almost forgot! Did I tell you...?”
“What?”
“I don't care,” she repeated smugly.
■ ■ ■
The landing bay of the Revenge was almost claustrophobic compared to the Conquest's, a mere closet, tightly packed, everything in its place. Tusker was busy securing the shuttle to the deck. Three shuttles shared space with cargo, parts and repair stalls.
Marine Sergeant Draza Mac dragged the duffel bags out of the shuttle's small cargo compartment. “Welcome aboard the Raven, Mr. Mercury, Ms. Stone...”
“Thank you, Mr. Mac. Are all of our temporary transfers aboard?”
“Aye, sir. All mission pertinent equipment and personnel aboard. The Skipper asked that we direct you straight to the bridge. I assume you remember the way?”
“Of course.”
Draza Mac hefted the bags. “Good. I'll make sure your things get to your quarters.” He paused, cocking his head, hearing the change in the tone of the ship's engines. “Sounds like the Skipper's got us under way. Once we clear this crap, it's less than an hour to the gate.”
■ ■ ■
The bridge crew of the Conquest was watching the Revenge, now the Raven, pull out of formation, heading toward the gate to Rikovik's Reef. She was moving cautiously, out of the planetary debris, leaving the Conquest and Westwind behind, hidden in the clutter and metallic dust. Even in the zero gravity, it clung to her hull, her movement leaving a trail of dust and ash like a wake behind her.
Captain Ryan stood up at his station and stretched, massaging his back with his hands as he watched the big screen. “Communications, I want double coverage on your station. I want full time monitoring on the Raven's emergency channel.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I want everybody fresh. Four hour shifts, no more. We're staying on yellow alert...” He looked over at his first officer. “You have the bridge, mister. I'll see you in four hours.”
“Aye sir.”
“I'll order up some food and drinks,” said Ryan turning towards his ready room. “Good luck Mr. Mercury,” he breathed without looking back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RIKOVIK'S REEF: DEN OF THEIVES
“Rikovik's Reef in thirty minutes, Skipper.”
“Understood.” Commander Brian Carter reclined in his chair, feet on his desk in the Captain's ready room, “Your quarters OK, Jack?”
Jack extended his legs on the couch, leaning against the armrest, Fritz already sound asleep on the floor next to him. “Sure, they're fine.”
“You didn't expect me to give up mine, did you?” Brian smirked crookedly.
