Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bob standing up. Abandoning the literary nerds, she rushed to him.
“So, Bob…”
He was all smiles. “The Starskipper’s fueled up, Jez, see?” He pointed out the window to indicate the last truck disconnecting its hoses from the old gray freighter. “It’ll be a short voyage. But in another sense…this is gonna be the longest flight of my life.”
“You’ve traveled a rough road for a lot of years, Bob. Now, go to her. I’m sure nothing will stand in your way.”
Bob smiled, kissed her on the head, and left.
Jezebel watched him go and then looked around. She had a lot of work to do. Tables needed wiped, drinks needed served, and shelves needed to be stocked in the back room. However, none of that was going to get done just now. This was to be a special moment and she wanted to savor it to the full.
“Oh, miss?” One of the writers called, but she ignored him.
She stared out the big picture window and muttered, “Let the customers complain and let Carlos bitch. Everything can wait for just a little while.”
The scene on the landing field was placid. From her vantage point, she could clearly make out Sergeant Goon and LT walking past the old gray Starskipper and up to the squat green cruiser which parked beside it. Half a dozen armed guards stood at attention when Goon and LT approached, and LT returned their gesture with a salute. The cruiser’s gangway was lowered, and the two recruiters strolled aboard. Once the gangway closed behind the two, the guards relaxed. Slinging their rifles on their shoulders, they sat on old crates by the docking pad and resumed a card game.
Nothing exciting, just another day on the landing field.
And then that wonderful moment came.
Jezebel saw the repo crew strut onto the landing field. The little knot of blue-shirted punks stepped with purpose with Ralph and Quan leading the way and the other two jerks toting tool bags in their wake. They were barely noticed by the guards when they passed the squat, military cruiser for they showed no interest in the soldier’s ship. The bank minions strode up to Bob’s old gray freighter with menacing purpose. She could clearly see the shorter, rounder Ralph reach into his pocket and hold out the passkey. The four thugs stared at the Starskipper’s hatch expecting to see it open, but it didn’t.
In truth, something did open—but not where they were looking.
The repo crew jumped with a start when they heard the mercenary cruiser’s gangway drop open behind them—much to the surprise of the guards as well. Her data swap had worked and the passkey new code was programed for the wrong ship.
Cards were dropped, rifles were raised, and orders shouted. Jezebel smiled as she watched the chaos unfold. Ralph raised his hands in immediate surrender, but Quan stood his ground, waving his arms, and arguing with the soldiers. A rifle barked as a mercenary fired a warning shot that hit the ground before Quan’s feet. Quan jumped back with a start, then raised his hands in following of Ralph’s wise example.
The two repo men with the toolbags didn’t surrender. No, way. Instead, they took off at a run but didn’t make it far. The more physically fit troopers quickly overcame the civilians and tackled the bank’s minions to the ground. The guards then dragged all the repo boys together by the crates once used for their card game and forced their prisoners to kneel. They handcuffed the bank man while shouting questions. Perhaps Quan and the others would have answered such questions, except it was clear by their faces that none of them had a clue what was the hell was going on.
Jezebel smiled all the wider.
Then, from the other side of the docking field, she saw Bob strolling along the pavement. Bob noted the soldiers roughing up the four blue-shirted men, but he seemed to pay them little attention. Jezebel knew the old spacer had other priorities and wouldn’t be inclined to get involved in somebody else’s business at a time like this. Bob just walked up to his old gray star ship, reach in his pocket for the passkey, and opened Starskipper’s hatch. The battered freighter welcomed Bob aboard and the hatch sealed behind him.
Jezebel watched as Starskipper’s lights came on and the ship rotated on the docking pad for takeoff.
“Jez, we need napkins at table-eight,” Carlos said. “Jez, do you hear me?”
Jezebel ignored her boss and instead kept watch until the old Starskipper shook the bonds of Tortuga’s gravity to soar like an angel unto heaven. And even if nobody knew it—not now, not ever—Jezebel was finally part of an honest to Budda space adventure.
The End
A Bar Is Born
It seems strange to me that decades after I left Tarkan, people are still haranguing me for tales of the Screaming Eagle. After all, there are a whole slew of veteran’s bars across this galaxy, and the Screaming Eagle is certainly not unique in that way. Also, the planet Tarkan upon which it rests is the most backwater Confederation planet imaginable and hardly of interest to most people. However, ever since I made it the subject of my doctoral thesis, folks have been pressing me for anecdotes. Perhaps they ask simply because the stories are amusing, but I suspect another reason is that academics just don’t spend much time in bars.
Now, in the past, I have recounted the exploits of my friend, Kilroy Matterson who held court at his table by the broken holo-machine until the end of his days. But today, I wish to relate another one’s story. That of Ms. Coleen O’Hara, the mistress of the bar by who’s stubborn, never say die nature the bar was brought into being on that lonely world. She’s an amazing woman, and I think it’s high time her story was told.
Dr. Jan Paulaski PhD
***
Ms. Coleen found the abandoned building by the Tarkan starport at the same time she found herself abandoned. She had no home, no money, and no prospects. She also had an eight-year-old girl to look out for. To be sure, Coleen O’Hara never expected to be a single mother on a backwater colony world.
She expected to be traveling the stars.
Coleen dreamt of space for as long as she could remember. As a little girl, she’d gaze at the stars through her daddy’s old telescope on warm summer nights. John O’Hara served in the Aerospace National Guard back then and spent most of his weekend service on an orbital defense platform high above the Earth. During the rest of his time, he worked as a grav mechanic in a garage in Minneapolis. He often regaled his daughter with tales of life in orbit and the feeling that you yourself are a heavenly body when you’re up there. Coleen was enchanted. As soon as she finished senior school, she joined the Confederation Station Services, determined to be closer to those stars and to know what her old man had tried to explain.
The Station Service built and maintained the huge orbital fortresses that served as waypoints for Confederation Navy and Marine units in need of quick resupply or repair. It’s always been known as the least military of the military services, with crewmen calling their officers by first names and wearing uniforms that are more comfortable than crisp in appearance. All the same, navy captains and marine force commanders rely on those stations to keep their units in the fight, whether they admit it or not.
Basic training challenged her as it does every new recruit. Sleeping in a crowded compartment with eighty other scared young recruits and getting yelled at by drill technicians was not her idea of fun. Still, she did well and graduated top of her class. Then she spent a month learning to be a supply specialist; a clerk who kept a station stocked with every necessity.
Finally, wearing specialist third-tier stripes, she marched past the reviewing stand in her dress gray jacket and black slacks at recruit graduation. And her dad had traveled all the way to the Stationer Training Center at Los Alamos to watch her from the bleachers. His eyes gleamed with pride at his little girl, and she was thrilled—her next destination: space!
Coleen was sent to Station Eagle in the distant Altir system. Upon final approach, her face pressed against the shuttle’s window to glimpse the shining stars that framed her new post. The Eagle’s walls and fixtures gleamed like new
. In fact, many of them were new, having been replaced after all of the war damage.
Coleen had the good luck to serve in a time of relative peace—ten years after the Azanti War had ground to a halt. Most of her senior leaders were combat veterans, but her co-workers were not. As is typical in peacetime militaries, the mood was one of relaxed weariness. Relaxed because there was no threat around, and weary because that annoying old guy in the corner kept reminding everyone what a war was like.
She shared a comfortable stateroom with another young stationer but didn’t spend much time there—to the point where she occasionally needed to be reminded of her roommate’s name. The Eagle’s observation dome was where she spent most of her off-duty hours, mesmerized by those heavenly bodies. She also enjoyed meeting the spacers from the merchant ships who’d visited the station to deliver supplies or transfer cargoes. These people had seen the more distant stars up close, and her eyes would go wide as they told her stories of far, far away.
In short, she was still very much a newb. For three years, however, she was a highly competent newb. Her natural knack for organization enabled her to streamline the entire supply process. She found and corrected the mistakes when faulty paperwork was submitted, allowing her to fill orders in half the time of her predecessors, and she got noticed for it.
Technician First Rate Bob Miller appreciated her work so much he put her in for a promotion, but she was too young for the next rank. So instead, she received a Stationer Achievement Medal, a gray and blue ribbon with a silver medallion featuring the seal of the Great Confederation with the words “For The Achiever” inscribed below. She rushed to the com-sat terminal and spent her remaining credits for that pay period to call her father.
“Hi, Dad. I just wanted to tell you I got a medal. It seems I improved shop efficiency by twenty percent and the commander came down to our office and presented me this,” she held it up for the video capture, “in front of everybody. Things are great here, but it’s a little boring sometimes. Maybe I should have joined the Navy or something? I’d like to travel some and see a bit more of the galaxy. As it is, the observation dome is starting to lose its charm. But like I said, I’m okay. I miss you, but I’m fine, and I love you. Take care.”
The message took over a month to get to Earth and back, traveling in the mail files of jump ships voyaging to and from the homeworld. When the reply finally came, her dad’s pride shot out of the screen like a beam of sunshine. “Hey, Kiddo, that’s great news! I almost jumped out of my socks when you said you got a medal. My first notion was that you’d been in combat, and that’s not the kind of news I’d consider good. But, hey, it’s about time the Station Service figured out who their best trooper is. Pete, the barman at the UVA post, gave me a free a drink when I told him the news. Now, I get how you're growing restless on Station Eagle, but you’re still young. You got a whole lifetime ahead of you to travel and whatnot. In the meantime, just make the most of it, and you’ll be all right. Too bad I can’t afford to fly out there and give you a big hug. I love you too and miss the hell out of you. Stay safe girl. Remember, the universe has only one Coleen O’Hara, and she’s needed.”
She watched the video over and over until her roommate nagged, “O’Hara, it’s 23:00 hours. Turn that damn thing off and go to bed.”
“But, it’s my dad.”
Rolling over and putting a pillow over her head, her roommate said, “Everybody had a dad. Now, shut it off and go to sleep. We’ve got inspection at 06:30, remember?”
Reluctantly, she cut the connection and went to her bunk. Putting head to pillow, she wished for the first time that her father was a rich man. Then he could take a ship out to Station Eagle and she could show him around. She’d love to take him to the observation dome and show him all the stars that could be seen.
* * *
Captain Buckman, however, could easily afford to travel. After all, he owned his own jump ship, the MJS Starstrider. With a strong jawline and a big manly frame, he was devastatingly charming and smiled often. His grin would grow especially wide every time he noticed a pretty girl—and Coleen was quite pretty. Her ample chest and fit figure cut a nice silhouette overall, but Buckman probably noticed her chest first; the rest of her body later, and her mind last of all.
“You know, gray isn’t really your color. A woman like you should wear red. I’ll put in a word with the Commandant to see if he’ll make a uniform exception for you.” Coleen, in her gray coveralls, blushed as she transferred Buckman’s receipt to his hand-comp.
“Captain, I don’t think you have that kind of pull.” Coleen had heard lots of pickup lines before but had to admit his were better than most. The Starstrider made frequent visits to Station Eagle, and he usually dropped at least one not-so-subtle line whenever he came by the station office for transfers, manifests, and such.
“You’d be surprised what kind of pull I’ve got, girl. Tell you what, why don’t you meet me for dinner? I can tell you all about myself. I’ve lived a fascinating life. We could picnic in the observation dome at say 18:00 hours?”
“Okay, Captain, but whatever you bring in that picnic basket better not be from the station’s chow hall. Three years of that crap and I’m about to give up food altogether.”
“I’m sure I can scare something up from Starstrider’s galley. After all, I wouldn’t want you going all skin and bones now, would I?” He flashed her one more charming smile and left the office with a wink.
***
The food tasted delicious, gargantua beast meat with a marinara sauce and fresh vegetables. He also provided some wine and carrot cake for dessert. Coleen hadn’t eaten so well in months and savored every bite.
The conversation enthralled her too. “I’ve seen the Blue Nebula from Epsilon, girl,” he told her. “And believe me it takes your breath away. The colors swirl around these beautiful bright flares that blossom and die in slow motion as the hue changes from turquoise to royal blue. There is so much out there. You just haven’t lived until you’ve seen it all for yourself.”
“Well, I have eight more months before I can; the needs of the service and all that.” She’d signed a five-year contract and accepted a fifteen thousand-credit bonus contingent on her serving the full term. The money was supposed to be going to pay for college when she got out.
“You’re joking? This old bucket in the middle of nowhere can hold someone as beautiful and smart as you? Girl, there is so much out there, and life is short. Who knows how much time we have? For me, I can’t hold back a single moment. My life is mine and nobody else’s!”
Buckman was passionate, and his voice rang a deep baritone that resonated off the dome. She went to his stateroom on the Starstrider that night. He was her first.
The next day, Coleen put in the paperwork. Technician First Rate Bob tried to talk her out of it. “Coleen, listen, you only have eight months left to serve. You’re pissing away your bonus and for what? This freighter captain with the chin? Come on, just give it some thought.”
Coleen wouldn’t hear any of it. To her, it seemed there wasn’t a moment to waste. Her life was hers, and she wanted it now. She filed the SS-138a form to arrange repayment on the fifteen thousand credits, and in one week she was honorably discharged.
Next, she moved onto the Starstrider with her handsome captain, bunking in his stateroom. Coleen thought she was in heaven. The ship’s crew greeted her with ambiguity, but she figured that would pass.
Buckman asked her to look at his ship’s books, and right away she found herself a full-time job. His records were in complete disarray. She found maintenance logs out of date, and the ship’s business had been running at a loss for the last four years. At that rate, the Starstrider would soon be seized by the Confed Shipping Authority to pay its numerous creditors. Yet despite his lack of organizational, and business, skill, Captain Buckman was a talented pilot and navigator. He could maneuver the freighter like a fighter ship, and the Starstrider seemed to hum when he sat at the controls. In bed
, he proved to be a little insensitive but had a great deal of stamina and was always very eager.
She thought she loved him.
As the months went by, Coleen did, in fact, see some amazing heavenly bodies—besides his, of course. She saw the Blue Nebula for herself, and it looked better than Buckman had once described it. Also, she saw Saturn’s rings up close and the glowing asteroids of the Sirius star system. And just as wonderful, she also got to see her father.
* * *
When Starstrider made a delivery to Luna, John O’Hara met her in the domed colony of Moon City One. He was obviously thrilled to see his daughter for the first time in years. And as she ran off the gangway, he met her with a big bear hug that felt warm and wonderful. She next introduced him to Buckman. Dad got along with her sweetheart...at first. However, over dinner at a restaurant, the strain between her man and her father began to show.
“…So, you don’t care if he pays his bills, does his job, or raises his children. To you, a non-drinker can’t be respected as a man?”
Coleen tensed as her father repeated the point of contention.
“I haven’t got time for a guy who can’t hold his liquor. You can’t trust ‘em, and that’s it.” Buckman didn’t even seem to notice how Mr. O’Hara flushed.
“Young man, my pop quit drinking when I was five. He had a problem, and he had the guts to stand up to it so he could raise his family. I think you need to broaden your views.” Turning to his daughter, he said, “Coleen, let’s check out the gift shop. I’d like to get your grandmother something. Can you help me pick it out for her?”
Coleen looked nervously to Buckman who seemed oblivious to the tension he’d caused. “Sure, Daddy, I think she’d like that.”
Once in the gift shop, her father softened his voice. “Kiddo, are you sure that guy is right for you?”
She thought about it for a minute. She had a few doubts but was too proud to admit them to anyone just yet, even her father. “Yeah Dad, he’s fine.”
Star Runners Page 11
