Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer

by Joyz W. Riter

  She did not dare to correct him.

  When Dana made to rise, Patel struggled to keep her in bed. “Not so fast, Mister Cartwright. Bed rest! Doctor’s orders!”

  “Please, I need to contact the Galaxean Science Academy.”

  It was Patel’s turn to blink. “What in galaxy’s name for?”

  “For a hematologist…to help Novem,” Dana insisted, “Hematology is Doctor April Talon’s specialty.”

  Patel frowned.

  Dana reminded, “I’m January…she’s April…Novem is…”

  “Ah!” He nodded understandingly, and rolled a viewer closer.

  Talon’s image appeared on the screen. The Galaxean Doctor stared, left eyebrow rising at the sight of Dana J. Cartwright, mismatched eyes emotionless and direct.

  “Doctor Talon, I’m Dana January Cartwright, aboard the SS Lancer, en route to Station Four. We have a patient aboard in need of a hematologist; a patient you are uniquely skilled to treat.”

  Talon’s face showed no emotion as she responded, “Surely Four has some one…”

  Dana shook her head. “November needs you, April.”

  The Galaxean blinked, understanding immediately the nature of the request. “It will take days…”

  “Ambassador Solon may be of assistance. Tell him…Tell him Dana January made the request.”

  Talon’s eyes widened. “I will do that.”

  Dana stared at the woman who could be her twin — nearly identical twin — down to her luxuriously long, cinnamon colored hair.

  “It will be an honor to work beside you on this case. Cartwright out.”

  Commander McHale scheduled no duties for her, but Dana felt it imperative that she spend time in the infirmary, assisting Doctor Patel with the autopsies; and with a secondary duty of staying near to Novem, whose condition seemed to be deteriorating as the infection spread.

  With just hours until Lancer arrived at Station Four, Doctor Patel called her to help ready the patient for transport, transferring him to a C-FIIN.

  Dana was well acquainted with the flight immobilization nodules. “Hope you aren’t claustrophobic,” she whispered, as she tucked a sheet about Novem’s torso. With all the sedation, he couldn’t respond, of course.

  Doctor Patel supervised the transfer to the base medical infirmary, with Dana as escort.

  They met Doctor Talon upon arrival and stood by as the hematologist immediately took charge, ordering dozens of tests, puzzling over the readings.

  “His immune system isn’t strong enough to fight the infection,” Doctor Patel counseled. “That happens a lot in clones.”

  Dana nodded. “He’s eleven of twelve.”

  “I think we can save him,” Talon assured.

  Patel, touched Dana’s shoulder gently, realizing, “He may need a transfusion from a sibling though.”

  “He said my DNA is the most perfect,” Dana offered.

  Talon demanded Dana submit to testing, too.

  Hours later, they attempted a transfusion of a pint of Dana’s blood. In the end, April concluded, “The mutations are too pervasive. If we had done this years ago, perhaps…”

  Dana agreed, but wasn’t willing to give in. “Can we do a whole-body blood replacement?”

  “We risk rejection. Must have the patient’s permission to even attempt such a radical procedure; and we don’t have a donor. Can’t use pure Galaxean or pure Enturian blood. However, I have been working on a project at the Science Academy. If we could take him back to Galaxea, there may be a way to purify his own blood until he recovers.”

  Dana nodded. “If he agrees…”

  Novem stared up at the two of them so long, without responding, that Dana followed up, “Do you understand what April is proposing?”

  “You would do this for me?”

  “We would,” Dana assured.

  “I am a slave. I am not perfect,” he reminded.

  April Talon raised an eyebrow. “Such a belief is false. All life has value.”

  Novem scanned their faces.

  Dana urged him, “Say, yes.”

  “Will you be with me?”

  Talon nodded.

  Dana sighed. “I can’t…I have orders, but you’ll be in good hands.”

  His mismatched eyes looked downcast.

  She insisted, “You have few other options. You can’t go back. You’ll die. Your DNA has mutated beyond ours.”

  Novem understood, finally nodding approval.

  Doctor Patel offered, “Good choice.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Though she was already back in a Station Four drab gray uniform, Dana Cartwright proudly stood beside McHale at the preliminary hearing for the accused crewmen from Lancer.

  Rear Admiral McCall presided. She didn’t know the man, but the Commander obviously did because McHale nodded respectfully to the admiral before the chime sounded.

  Charges were read; ‘not guilty’ pleas entered, all very formal, all according to regulations. The Admiral broke from tradition and announced, on the record, “SS Lancer shall immediately be decommissioned. All current officers and crew are ordered to report for new duty assignments to the Station Four personnel center.”

  McHale’s shoulders sagged perceptibly.

  Admiral McCall continued, “The accused are remanded to the brig. This court is in recess pending counselor conferences.”

  A lieutenant jumped up and commanded, “All rise.”

  Most of Big L’s crew already were standing at attention.

  Mansfield shot her an evil stare, but Dana gave no response.

  “Dismissed,” the Admiral ordered and the chime sounded again, concluding the session.

  As the room emptied, McHale held position. Dana did the same.

  “It’s not over yet,” he sighed, when they were alone, “not over by any means.”

  Dana nodded. “Sir, about the life-star?”

  McHale gave her shoulder a pat, assuring, “Already handled.”

  She felt the need to thank him, but he merely shrugged.

  “Least I could do. Janz Macao and I go way back. Someday, I’ll buy you a drink and tell you some tales.”

  “I’d like that, sir.”

  McHale forced a smile. “I hope your brother recovers. If there’s anything more I can do…”

  She nodded appreciatively before he limped away.

  Dana reported to the Shuttle Control station, where Commander Dutch greeted her warmly, offering a hearty, “Welcome back.”

  She bobbed her head. “Good to be back. Where do you need me?”

  “Well, for starters, the Galaxean ambassador needs some help. Bay 22.”

  Dana looked out the viewport, down into the foam green and battleship gray shuttle bay, seeing a C-FIIN coffin being pushed towards the shuttle by two android nurses, with Doctor April Talon and Ambassador Solon standing by. She rushed down there.

  “How can I help?” Dana offered, watching and assisting as the ANs engaged the magnetic locks on the legs of the infirmary nodule.

  “You already have,” Solon offered, raising his right hand, giving the Galaxean salute. “Peace be with you, Doctor Cartwright.”

  She felt a wave of relief and raised her hand, covering her heart in response. “And peace be with you, Mister Ambassador and Doctor Talon.”

  She glanced down into the C-FIIN and gave Novem a smile. “He looks so peaceful.”

  “Already responding to treatment,” Talon offered, standing respectfully at her side.

  “He has much to un-learn,” Dana commented, “and suffered so much, as a slave.”

  “In time, he will forget. Solon will assist him.”

  “Thank you for coming, April.”

  Talon merely nodded. “As you indicated, I was the logical choice and uniquely qualified to tend this patient.” She offered the Galaxean salute. “Peace, my sister…”

  Dana responded, speaking in Enturian, “Patempore, salakarik.”

  Talon’s eyebrows rose, but she a
nswered, “Bedmaspore...be it soon.”

  The siren sounded as a signal to clear the flight deck.

  Dana left the shuttle, sealed the hatch, and went to watch from an observation viewport, as the Galaxean ambassadorial shuttle lifted off.

  “Be it soon, my sister...and my brother.”

  When the all clear sounded, Dana turned to find Mackenna hovering behind her, sporting a new uniform with lieutenant’s stripes on the sleeves.

  “Daniel!”

  He grinned and showed what he held, a cigar box and two padlets. “You need to sign off on your final Lancer logs.” He quickly offered the first padlet to her.

  With a stylus, she affixed her full name as signature without reading through the text. “I trust this is all accurate.”

  He grinned, trading the box and second padlet for the first.

  “Where are you off to?” Dana asked.

  He proudly beamed, “Navitor.”

  She chuckled. “Give my regards to Captain Ensoto.”

  Mackenna winked, “Gladly, ma’am.”

  As Dana looked down at the cigar box, he whispered, “Not as clever as Shakespeare’s Macbeth, but it was the best I could do.”

  She peeked inside to find the Sterillian blade, in its sheath, wedged securely inside.

  “I’ve kept it safe since Patel found it in your boot when we brought you into the infirmary.”

  Dana gave him a hug. “Thanks…”

  “Thank you…I got my lieutenant’s stripes back.” He mumbled a goodbye, gave a thumbs up, and left her alone.

  She fingered the dagger, especially the place on the pommel where the ruby had been — the ruby she had added to Janz Macao’s life-star, to fill the last empty space.

  She thought of Kieran and how he’d used the blade and wounded Novem. The dagger might still have her brother’s DNA upon it. It might…

  Dana fought back tears. “I’ve found one brother and one sister…so, nine more to go, but it’s a start.” She clipped the sheath with the dagger inside her boot, thought about tossing the cigar box, then thought better of it. It did make a rather nice memento box.

  The second padlet held a repair order for the autopilot system on the shuttle in Bay 76. “What?” she scoffed, “They want it ready when?”

  Dana returned to flight deck, where Trader One awaited. Her tool lockbox was still there, untouched. She opened it and extracted her slightly musty smelling overalls and set them aside. Digging deeper, she found a stray wrench.

  Touching it triggered a strong reaction. Lifting it, she realized, “This is Denton’s. She must have abandoned it on the deck.”

  Dana’s eyes widened. She moved to stand beneath the fuselage of the Blade Class.

  “Wait just a minute…” The wrench was the proper size to access the compartment where the ship’s autopilot controls were located.

  Dana opened that compartment and took a look, realizing it was the perfect niche for smuggling contraband. The wrench triggered more memories. It was used to sabotage the autopilot. Denton was involved. But why? Her empathetic senses could not resolve the reasoning.

  She turned, sensing someone was watching.

  A Felidae paced on all fours near her lockbox, sniffing about the Blade Class shuttle. “Xalier?”

  The Security Chief turned when she called, standing erect, tugging at the shirt of his ill-fitting uniform with both paws. “Ah, Doctor Cartwright…”

  “Sir?”

  “Shuttle Control said I could find you here. Security recovered this when they detained the two men that set upon Commander Brandt. The two were attempting to sell this up on the civvy level to one of the Mech-Techs we’ve suspected was involved in a smuggling operation, a bit like what Lancer’s officers were up to, though on a much smaller scale. Brandt wanted me to make sure to get it to you.”

  The Felidae dropped a necklace into her palm and purred, “Welcome back to Four, by the way,” before turning away.

  Dana looked down at the silver chain and the dangling platinum pendant, in the shape of a dodecagon with twelve triangles. She instantly saw an image flash before her eyes, of her father, Franklin Shepherd, standing before a misty green window with the same pattern etched there. It was some kind of corporate logo.

  She blinked several times, memorizing every detail, wondering what it meant.

  Her voice-badge sounded, interrupting the vision. The voice was that of Commander Dutch.

  “Commander Cartwright? Can you really get that Blade Class fixed by tomorrow? There’s a VIP doctor from MED-SCI that needs it ASAP…for a trip to Scanlos. I told him if anyone could get it ready, you can.”

  She chuckled. “I can, indeed, sir.”

  “Good…You’ll be the pilot, as well. I have received an amendment to your reassignment orders. You’ll be stationed there, for the duration of the year you would have spent aboard Lancer.”

  “I’m going to Scanlos?” Dana mouthed.

  “And upped to full Commander… Unless you want to file a protest?”

  “Oh, no, sir…I’ll gladly get right on it.”

  Dana secreted the necklace in the cigar box for safe keeping as she started up the ramp to Trader One.

  She touched the name plate affectionately, before going inside.

  “Scanlos…here I come!” She grinned, looking down at the work order on the padlet.

  “Wait a minute…this says I’m to be a private pilot for…DOCTOR FRANCIS CALAGURA!”

  Coming Soon:

  KAL-KING, The Dana Cartwright Series: Mission Three

  JOYZ W. RITER

  Joyz has been writing Science Fiction and Fantasy since the early 1960s but spent a good deal of time after film school crewing, writing and directing educational television. Other Science Fiction books by Joyz W. Riter are:

  STILETTO: The Dana Cartwright Series Mission One

  LANCER: The Dana Cartwright Series Mission Two

  KAL-KING: The Dana Cartwright Series Mission Three

  DYING FOR A DREAM

  Visit Joyz W. Riter [Joyz Writer] in many online virtual worlds such as Second Life, Virtual Highway, and 3rdRockGrid.