“When do we get to meet the rest of the crew, sir?” she asked.
“There will be a briefing at 1700, but you’re to remain here in your quarters until I come and get you.”
“Yes, sir,” Colt said entering the room, as Doc turned and walked away.
The door closed behind them, and the three women scanned their quarters. It was a little snug. There was a bunk bed against one wall and a single bed against the other. Off to the side, there was a door leading to an en suite, again a little on the small side but not bad considering some of the bathrooms Carrie had seen over the years. Colt walked over to the single bed and saw her name, threw her kitbag on it and sat down. Carrie saw she had the bottom bunk-bed, so she dumped her bag, and they each sat on their beds for a moment taking in the room.
“Well, this is it ladies,” Colt said, nodding to herself as she looked around the room. “Looks like we’ll be getting to know each other real well.”
4
The Crew
Harris was just getting his things together when Doc knocked on his door.
“The men have arrived and all pre-flight physicals have been completed,” Doc told him. “They’re waiting in the mess hall.”
“And the new recruits?”
“Confined to quarters until further orders.”
Harris nodded, “Good job, Doc.”
“Do you want me to go get them?” he asked.
“No,” Harris said firmly, “I want to have a quick word to the men first.”
“Yes, sir,” Doc nodded.
Harris headed for the door. His lieutenant stood aside as he passed, then the two of them walked down the corridor side by side.
“So, what’s your take on the new recruits?” Harris broke the silence.
Doc glanced at him. “They seem pretty good on file and they passed their physicals.”
Harris looked straight ahead. “So what’s your take on the new recruits?” he asked again.
Doc shot him another glance and shrugged. “They’re alright.”
Harris looked over at Doc, arching his eyebrow.
Doc elaborated. “There may be some teething issues,” he shrugged. “Some of the guys might get a little territorial and based on the new recruits’ personnel files, I’m sure they’ll stand their ground.”
“Mm-hmm,” Harris said unenthusiastically in agreement, as they arrived at the mess hall. “Ever wanted to be a fireman?” he asked Doc.
As he entered, the seven men gathered in the room stood and saluted. Harris walked over to the mess hall counter in front of them, while Doc stopped by the door.
“At ease, gentlemen,” he said firmly.
The men took their seats across the two rectangular tables and waited to be addressed. As Harris stood before them, he looked at each one, studying them as he always did, wondering what sort of leave they’d had, and whether they were ready for duty. He eyed Pete Smith, the young British guy, who was the comms tech and p-star of the ship. Jacob Hunter, the ship’s New Zealander pilot. Farris Carter, the South African smart-ass, but a good solid soldier nonetheless. James McKinley, a fellow American who was a good, hard soldier and one the others tended to follow, albeit probably out of fear. Marcus Louis, the strong, black Frenchman, who also happened to be an amazing cook. Alexander Bolkov, the Russian co-pilot, a man of few words, but whose huge size spoke volumes. And lastly, James-Jay Brown, a big, tough, African American tank, who not only knew his way around the Aurora’s engine, but also knew his way out of a fight.
For whatever reason, this team worked. Although Doc, Carter and McKinley had been on the Aurora the longest, Smith, the newest recruit, had still been here for a period of nine months. For nine whole months, he’d been building this team up to what it was, and there had been no change in this lineup. That was, until now.
“I take it you all enjoyed your leave?” Harris asked, making small talk.
“It was a little on the short side, captain,” McKinley answered. Being third in rank behind Doc, he often spoke on behalf of the men.
“Don’t I know it,” Harris said flatly.
“So why the rush to get us back then, captain?” Carter piped up in that strong South African accent of his. “Couldn’t the UNF survive without us?”
“Apparently not,” Harris answered. “I’ll brief you on our mission in just a moment. Firstly, I’ve got some news for you all.”
The men quickly glanced at each other, before Carter quipped, “You getting married, captain?!”
Some of the men sniggered.
Harris gave Carter a deadpan look. “We have three new recruits joining us for this mission, gentlemen.”
His soldiers looked at each other again, this time in surprise.
“New recruits, captain?” Hunter’s Kiwi accent piped up this time, as he crossed his arms defensively.
“We don’t need more men, captain,” McKinley said with a sly smile. “We’re already the best unit out there.” Carter laughed and held out his hand, and McKinley slapped it.
Harris waited a second. The men settled down and looked at him.
“There are no men joining us on this mission, gentlemen, but there will be three female soldiers added to our crew.”
“What?” Carter blurted out.
“Are you serious?” Louis’s French accent piped up.
Brown’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Instead he glanced over at Doc then back at Harris.
“You’re pulling our leg, captain!” Carter continued.
Pete Smith laughed. “I guess I’m not the p-star anymore!”
Bolkov said nothing, but the look on his face was not impressed. McKinley just kept staring back at Harris, mirroring his captain’s deadpan face, although his eyes shone with curiosity.
Harris gave them a moment, but that was all they were getting. “You done?” he asked firmly. They quietened down.
“We have three new female recruits,” he spelled it out. “We are taking part in a test-case for the UNF. They are experienced soldiers. They will be joining us in just a moment and you will accept them into the team for this mission.”
The men sat in near silence for a moment, soaking it in, before Louis decided to speak up again. “So, captain … three women. This must mean Smith and I are no longer on kitchen duty, no?”
Smith chuckled.
Carter looked around. “Command must have decided to give us a little mobile R & R, gents, to make up for our leave being cut short, eh. They going to pour us drinks, captain? Do they offer a topless service?” he laughed, some of the others joining in.
Harris kept his face deadpan. “Gentlemen, I do not need to remind you how the UNF feels about discrimination or harassment of any kind, do I?”
“C’mon, captain,” McKinley began, “what the hell are three women going to do around here?”
“I suggest you have a conversation with them and find that out,” Harris retorted.
“So where are they sleeping?” Hunter piped up again.
“They can sleep in my room!” Carter answered. Laughter erupted.
“Yeah, right Carter, ’cause you the man!” Brown said sarcastically, cocking his head to the side, eyeing him.
“Hey, I do alright, Brownie!” Carter hissed back.
“This is a joke, captain, no?” Louis seemed to be trying to find a reason for the shock announcement.
Doc finally decided to speak up. “Guys, just give them a chance. You might be surprised.”
“You’ve met ’em?” McKinley’s fiery blue eyes shot accusingly across the room.
“Yes, I have,” Doc answered firmly.
“Well, Doc’s the one to ask, then!” Carter smiled. “How were their physicals, man?”
“Ooh, yes!” Louis smiled. “’Ow about their lung tests, Doc? Hmmm?” He held his hands out in front of his chest as though he were holding a large pair of breasts. The men started laughing, and Doc shook his head at them.
“No, they’re probably big beefy dykes!” Smith called out.
“Just ’ow you like them, Bulk, no?” Louis said, slapping the Russian on the back.
Bolkov snarled back at Louis.
Harris had had enough. He decided to end it.
“ENOUGH!” he bellowed. The men fell silent and paid him due attention. “These three soldiers will work alongside you, they will train with you, they will eat here in the mess with you, work out in the gym with you, stay down in the soldiers’ quarters with you. This is real. This is happening, and you will accept this. This is my order to you. Do you understand?”
There was a slight hesitation but Brown, Hunter, Smith and Bolkov answered, “Yes, sir.”
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Harris shouted, looking directly at McKinley, Carter and Louis.
“Yes, sir,” they finally answered.
Harris stared them all down for a moment, then he turned to Doc. “Bring them in.”
*
Carrie, Packham and Colt had settled into their quarters, their gear unpacked into the small lockers standing against the wall outside their en suite. They each sat on their beds, while Packham began throwing a rubber ball into the air and catching it and Colt began sticking a few photos of her family up on the wall beside her bed. There was a photo of her parents, younger brother and sister, and a photo of her twin sister with her husband and their two little kids.
Carrie was staring at them. “I don’t see any eligible young bachelors there, Colt.”
“No,” Colt replied with a tinge of sadness to her voice, “he didn’t get into Space Duty, so he ended it.”
“He ended it?” Carrie asked, curious.
“I don’t know,” Colt shrugged. “Guess he couldn’t handle the fact that I was better than he was!” She flashed a grin at them.
Carrie and Packham laughed.
“Hey, I tell you what, that Doc is pretty fine for a white boy!” Colt said as she turned back around to them.
Packham gave a musical little laugh.
“You don’t think he’s cute?” Colt inquired, looking between the two of them.
Packham chuckled. “Yeah, he’s cute. He’s not my type though.”
“Oh, yeah. And what’s your type?” Colt asked her.
The sergeant shrugged. “I don’t know. Older, I guess.”
“Well, he’s older than you,” Colt replied.
“Ah, but not old enough.” Packham winked at her.
“You like them gray, huh?” Colt eyed her strangely, then looked down at Carrie. “What about you? Doc’s cute, right?”
“Me?” Carrie said, taken aback.
“Ooh, she’s not saying anything! Silence speaks louder than words, girlfriend.”
Carrie shrugged. “He’s alright,” she said nonchalantly.
“Alright? No, he’s pretty fine for a white boy,” she repeated, then looked at Packham. “Although he’s a little too white for me.”
They cracked up laughing.
“So you got a man?” Colt asked Carrie.
“No.” She shook her head.
“You?” she asked Packham.
Packham shook her head.
“Yeah, well, it’s pretty damn hard trying to keep one when you’re out in space, that’s for sure,” Colt continued as she put the last of her photos up. It was one of another young male, maybe early 20s.
“Who’s that?” Carrie asked
“That’s my brother, Malik.”
“The same one that’s in the other photo you just put up?”
“No, I have two brothers. Malik’s gone now, though. Stepped on a land mine in Africa on Earth Duty.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carrie said softly. “You’d think they would’ve found them all by now.”
“Yeah. I nearly quit when he died, but for some reason I hung in there. I guess it comes with the territory,” she said softly, smoothing down the sides of the photo.
“How long ago?” Carrie asked curiously.
“Two years. February 14th, 2073. Can you believe it? Valentine’s Day. My mama sure got her heart broken that day, let me tell you.” Colt turned around and sat on the bed with her back against the wall. “Are you two putting up any pictures of your families?”
Carrie shook her head, “No. There’s only me and my dad left, anyway. My mum died when I was 14. I don’t have any siblings.”
“Oh,” Colt said sympathetically. It was probably hard for her to imagine life without a large bustling family around her. “What about you, Packham?”
The sergeant put the ball down and moved to the edge of the bunk. “I have an older sister and a younger brother. I speak to them occasionally. That’s about it. We’re not really that close.”
Colt nodded, mind ticking over, before she decided to change the subject. “So I wonder why they’re keeping us in here?”
Carrie nodded. “Strange, isn’t it?”
Packham seemed to think about this for a second and then burst out laughing. “We’ve probably been thrown onto a whaling ship!”
Carrie and Colt both looked at her puzzled.
“You know? A whaling ship. Full of sperm whales. Full of seamen? That’s what they call an all-male crew. There’s only about 40 percent of ships in Space Duty with female soldiers on them, and even then, they tend to place them on the cargo ships or docking stations, or they’re pilots like me that don’t really mix with the other crew. Hardcore mission work is still generally only handled by the guys on these whaling ships. Very few females get to do the really cool stuff. And this is a test case, right? So my guess is that they’ve put us on a whaling ship and they’re probably breaking it to the men as we speak.” She laughed again.
Colt stared at Packham oddly.
“Can you imagine their faces?” Packham said. “They’ll be so disappointed.”
“Or excited?” Colt added.
“So we can probably expect some grief then,” Carrie said.
Just then they heard a knock at the door. It was 1655.
“Briefing time, soldiers,” Doc called through door.
Colt opened the door and gave a nod to Doc, then turned and flashed the other two women a subtle, cheeky smile.
“Follow me, please,” Doc said, taking off down the corridor.
As they made their way down the corridor, Carrie wondered what Captain Harris must’ve told the men, preparing them for these three women who were about to walk in and break up their little group.
Arriving at the mess hall, Doc entered the room, followed by Packham, then Colt, and then Carrie who felt her heart racing a little. As she walked through the door, she heard Doc announce, “The new recruits, captain!”
As Packham and Colt moved in and to the left, they cleared a view for Carrie. She saw a group of soldiers sitting across two tables, sizing up each one of them as they walked in. Some were staring, some were glaring, and one or two cast a sleazy eye over them. Most did so with their arms folded across their chests.
Captain Harris also watched from over by the mess counter, but his face was hard to read. Doc moved to stand a few feet away from him, and the women lined up alongside. Carrie heard one of the men start laughing and mutter something, and she looked over to see a man with a strawberry blond crew cut cover his mouth, trying to stifle his amusement. This made a few of the other men smirk in response. Harris glared at the man and he jammed his lips together trying to stop. Carrie felt like the new student in school, forced to stand at the front of the class to be introduced as she had done many times as a child, as she and her mother moved about with her father’s Earth Duty career.
Harris walked over to the women, then looked back to the men. “Gentlemen, meet our new recruits!” he said firmly. “We have Corporal Carrie Welles, Corporal Sabrina Colt and Sergeant Sarah Packham.” He pointed to each of them in turn with his right hand. Then he raised his left arm and pointed toward the men. “New recruits,” he conti
nued, “meet the rest of the team! In order of seniority, you’ve already met Doc, aka, First Lieutenant Daniel Walker.”
Doc gave them a nod.
“Then we have Second Lieutenant James McKinley …” Carrie noted he was a big guy with square shoulders and blond hair, who stared back at them with cold, blue, intimidating eyes.
“… and First Sergeant Farris Carter.” He was the strawberry blond who’d been laughing at them.
Harris continued. “First Sergeant Jacob Hunter …” He was a good-looking guy, with light brown hair and chiseled cheekbones. He looked a little arrogant, though, eyeing them as though they’d just told a bad joke.
“… Staff Sergeant Alexander Bolkov …” He looked a lot older than the others, and big and bulky. He didn’t bother looking at the women at all.
“… and Staff Sergeant James-Jay Brown.” He was, she assumed, an African American, large in size, who simply gave them a blank stare.
“Sergeant Marcus Louis …” He had dark skin, almost black, and was built like a weight lifter. He sat there smirking at them.
“… and Private First Class Pete Smith.” He was the youngest of the group, with blond hair, dark blue eyes and a youthful grin upon his face.
Harris dropped his arm and looked back at the women. “Take a seat, soldiers.”
The women fell out of line and took up seats at the tables, while Harris moved over to a keypad on the wall beside the mess counter and appeared to be logging into the ship’s systems. Carrie used the opportunity to study him more closely. She’d noted how tall he was at their first meeting, but she hadn’t quite realized how big his physique was until now. Judging by his arms alone, in the gray UNF T-shirt he wore, he looked strong, fit. He had the right physical attributes for a soldier, now she was curious to see what his leadership was like.
A screen suddenly descended from the ceiling over the mess counter. Displayed upon it was a satellite picture of the Earth’s solar system.
“Our mission, gentlemen … and ladies,” the captain caught himself, “is to head out to space station Z076, aka Station Darwin. It’s the most isolated space station we have, located off Mars and not far from The Belt.” He hit a button on the keypad, and the satellite zoomed in, giving a closer picture of the station’s location.
Darwin Page 6
