by Joe Vasicek
One of those ships is going to be my home for the next few years, Mara thought to herself. With twenty-four other people on board, the frigate was bound to be a little world all to itself. She just hoped that her old friends from Fourth Platoon would be a part of it.
The ferry docked, and she disembarked with the rest of the passengers. The terminal was almost as crowded as the ferry, but she managed to elbow her way through.
Aaron was waiting near one of the large fishbowl windows that overlooked the fleet. As the view rotated due to the spinning of the station’s hab modules, the starlight glistened and twinkled off the surfaces of the new ships. He was so entranced by the sight that he didn’t notice her until she was standing right next to him.
“Oh! There you are, Mara. Good to see you!”
“You too, Aaron,” she said in their native Deltan. The place was so new and unfamiliar that it felt comforting to talk in the language she’d grown up speaking.
“Can you believe it? A whole fleet of brand new warships out there, and soon we’ll be commanding one of them!”
“You’re the one in command,” she said. “I’m just your executive officer.”
“Yeah, but still… Honestly, is this a dream? How did this happen? When Major Achilles called me in, I thought I was in trouble or something—I never thought it would be something like this.”
“Well, the Resistance is short on officers right now, and you really proved yourself in the last campaign.”
“I still can’t believe it,” he said, shaking his head. “They made me captain. Captain. Skipped right over the lower ranks. I wonder what Isaac would think if he could see me now.”
His excitement dimmed, and his expression became clouded, making Mara frown. For the last two months, the two of them had scoured every database and ship log for information that would help him locate his brother, or at least find out what had happened. From the records at Colkhia, they’d discovered that the Medea had arrived at the system under the alias Medusa and had jumped out shortly after the battle had begun. But they hadn’t found anything else for the last two months, and Aaron was starting to get desperate.
“Hey,” said Mara, putting a hand on his arm. “At least you were already an officer when they promoted you. How do you think it is for me, commissioned an officer and promoted to lieutenant commander all in one go?”
Aaron’s smile returned, though subdued. “Yes, well, when they asked who I wanted as my executive officer, there was never any question. Besides, it shouldn’t be too much different from what you’ve done taking over for Lieutenant Castor over in the platoon.”
Mara smiled. “Thank you, Aaron.” You have a lot more confidence in me than I have in myself.
“Don’t mention it. Here, let me show you our new ship.”
The Merope-7 was a short tram ride away. Designed by a Tajji shipwright and built in the shipyards of New Sirius three light-years from Tajjur itself, she measured two hundred meters from bow to stern—only a tenth of the length of the captured Imperial battleship GIS Starfire. Still, as they admired her through the windows of the docking node, Mara had to admit that she cut an impressive sight.
Her hull was long and smooth, widening near the middle and tapering toward the front where the guns were placed. The only breaks in the hull were the bridge, protruding from the topside just in front of the airlock, and a row of narrow portholes running lengthwise on either side. The wings were angled forward, ending in the massive engine nacelles. Put together, both nacelles were almost the size of the whole ship.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” said Aaron, a boyish grin plastered across his face. There wasn’t any gravity in the docking arm, so he gripped the railing with one foot hooked under a hand-hold.
“Let’s go,” said Mara.
She palmed open the airlock, then pulled herself through to the opposite door. When it opened to reveal the shipside airlock, she was surprised to see herself looking horizontally into the ship rather than down at the floor through the ceiling.
“That’s a design feature,” Aaron explained as he pulled up alongside her. “The decks are stacked vertically along the length of the ship, so that the engines face below us instead of behind us.”
“Interesting,” said Mara. She went through the doorway feet-first, and the artificial gravity field immediately set her down to the floor.
“It saves space, and makes things more efficient when we’re doing sublight maneuvers. Instead of having to compensate for horizontal acceleration, the gravitational field projectors can just let the engines do their work.”
“Efficient,” she agreed.
The airlock opened to a locker room for the EVA suits. Beyond that was a long row of chutes for the escape pods, and beyond that was a doorway that opened onto a small command center. There were only four seats, but each of them had half a dozen holoscreen monitors and just as many control panels. A young woman with short brown hair sat at one of the stations.
“Who do we have here?” Aaron asked, frowning. The young woman looked up immediately.
“Oh, you must be Captain Deltana,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’m Lieutenant Katya Nova, one of the intelligence officers assigned to this vessel.”
“What are you doing?” he asked, switching rather awkwardly to Gaian. “I was under the impression that the crew wasn’t supposed to board until I gave the order.”
“Well, sir, technically I’m not under the fleet command structure. As an intelligence officer, I report to my superiors in the intelligence community. Of course, I’ll do my best to co-ordinate my activities with your command.”
Mara regarded the lieutenant coolly. She was about the same age as her, with a round face and eyes that were slightly slanted. It was hard to place her system origin—she didn’t look like she was from the south second quadrant, or the north second quadrant either for that matter.
“I see,” said Aaron. “Welcome to the Merope-7, Lieutenant Nova. This is my first officer, Lieutenant Commander Soladze.”
“Sir,” said Katya, saluting sharply. Mara returned the salute.
“I’m sure we will be working together closely in the future.”
“I look forward to it, Commander.”
Mara nodded and followed Aaron through the command center to the elevator. There was only one for the whole ship, with a hatch beside it that opened to a steep, narrow stairwell. Because they were only going up one floor, Aaron opted to take the stairs.
“I don’t like how the fleet let her board my ship without telling me first,” Aaron grumbled in Deltan.
“The fleet is extremely disorganized right now. She probably saw an opportunity to get a head start on her work and decided to take advantage of it.”
“Maybe so, but how am I supposed to command this ship if there are things going on that I don’t know about?”
“That won’t be the case in the future,” Mara promised. “I’ll see to that.”
They stepped through the hatchway into a short and rather odd-looking chamber. The wall in front of them was angled at nearly forty-five degrees, with a narrow hatchway and a ladder running below it on the floor. Railings ran along either side of the ladder, as if to help people climb up or down.
“This part is tricky,” Aaron explained. “From what they told me you have to get down on your hands and knees, then turn around…”
Mara watched as he crawled backwards along the ladder, then gasped in surprise as he stepped through the hatch as easily as if he were walking up the wall. She bent over and peered through it, and felt a weird dizzying sensation that made her pull back almost at once. It was almost as if the floor itself had turned, and her body had been pulled against the wall instead of down.
“Come on,” Aaron said. “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. You’ll get used to it before you know it.”
Mara took a deep breath and did as he had done, crawling backwards along the floor on her hands and knees. As she did so, the floor itself seemed to turn, so
that she was no longer crawling but climbing down a ladder. She turned around and saw to her astonishment that the hatch opened up to a new deck, one that ran perpendicular to the others.
“Wow,” she said, stopping for a moment to still her beating heart. “I’ve never seen a design like that.”
“Isn’t it awesome?” Aaron said, grinning from ear to ear like a little boy. “Come on, let’s check out the bridge.”
The bridge was surprisingly wide and spacious. The forward window stretched almost 180 degrees around the whole room and rose at a shallow gradient all the way to the ceiling, giving them an unparalleled view. The captain’s chair was in the center, with three chairs in front and two behind. Mara recognized the controls for helm and astrogation immediately in front of the captain, and guessed that weapons and science were on either side. That meant that she was in the back, probably next to the chief engineer.
“This is your seat,” Aaron said, confirming her suspicion by pointing to the chair in the back right corner. “You’ll be on my right, and have access to the same controls and displays I do. I’ll rely on you to check my decisions and let me know if I’m missing anything.”
“Right.” I’m probably the only one you’ll take criticism from anyway.
“Let’s take some time to run over the crew roster,” he said, bringing it up on her display. “Did you get a chance to look over it before coming here?”
“Yes,” she answered. “And I have a few suggestions.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. First, I think it’s a mistake to assign Pallas to weapons and tactical. He’s a sharpshooter, not a tactician. If you put him in a position where he can’t use his gun, he’s going to go crazy. Better to make Jason your tactical officer—he’s better at that than piloting anyway.”
Aaron frowned. “Then who do we put on the helm?”
“Can you think of anyone else from Paladin wing you can request? Someone who you think you’ll work well with?”
He screwed his eyes up in thought for a moment, then nodded. “Apollo could work. He piloted Paladin-3. We were never really all that close, but we got along well enough.”
“That’s all that matters. Apollo hasn’t received a starship commission, so I think we can get him without too much difficulty.”
“All right. What about the other assignments?”
She looked over the list. “You’ve got Phoebe on comms and medical, which is good; I think she’ll do well there. The chief engineer slot is open, but I can’t think of anyone to fill it so let’s just see who they give us. As for our commando team, I think Pallas would make an excellent team leader.”
“That’s great. The more people from Fourth Platoon we can get on this ship, the better.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Right,” said Aaron. “So we’ve got six officers and nineteen crew. Of those six, we’ve got me as captain, you as executive officer, Apollo on helm and astrogation, Jason on weapons and tactical, Phoebe on comms and medical, and an open post for chief engineer. Am I missing anything?”
“Nope. Sounds good to me.”
“As for the rest of the crew, we’ve got an intelligence officer and five commandos, leaving four on engineering, six on weapons and countermeasures, and two on medical.”
“Don’t forget the quartermaster and morale officer,” said Mara. “It’s not a command position, but it’s still very important.”
“Right. Who do you think we should request for quartermaster?”
She took a moment to think. “How about Lieutenant Castor? He always was good at rallying morale. Had a good eye for detail, too.”
Aaron frowned “But wouldn’t that be a demotion?”
“Not at all. Quartermaster is on an entirely different career track. Besides, the Battle of Colkhia shook him up pretty bad, and he doesn’t think he can go back to leading troops in close combat. This post might be just what he needs to bounce back.”
“Excellent!” said Aaron. “Then we’re just about ready to embark.”
He stood up and walked over to the command chair, running his fingers lightly over the top. For several moments, he hesitated, as if sitting down would change the course of his life forever. Perhaps it would.
Mara waited patiently, recognizing the personal significance of this moment. After taking a deep breath, he sat down, the boyish grin still beaming from his face.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for something like this,” he said softly. “The chance to lead my own life, to make a name for myself and not be under anyone else’s shadow. Now that it’s here…” His voice drifted off.
“Yes, Captain?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Now that it’s here, frankly, I’m terrified.”
“May I speak freely, Captain?”
“Of course, Mara. You can always speak freely with me.”
Not in front of the others, she thought to herself. But since Aaron would soon figure that out, she ignored the point and went on.
“I’m glad that you’re terrified. It shows that you care about the people who will serve under you and that you take responsibility for leading them. There’s nothing more terrifying than knowing that people you care about may die because of your decisions.”
“That’s right,” he agreed.
“But Aaron, your duty as captain is to make sure that no one sees that. The captain is the one who holds us together. If anyone thinks—for a second—that you’re losing your nerve, they’re liable to lose theirs as well. No matter how much you feel like you’re going to break under the pressure, you have to hold it together so that we will, too. Understand?”
His cheeks blanched, but he nodded. “I think so.”
She rose to her feet and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it too much. You’re not the only one carrying the weight around here. My job is to help you do your job and to be the best captain that you possibly can. I’ve never been one to shirk my duty, and I don’t plan to start now.”
“Of course,” he said, grinning once again. “I knew I could count on you, Mara. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she muttered. Thank me when the war is over and we’re both still alive.
* * * * *
Aaron wasn’t sure which was worse: not knowing how long he had to wait for something, or knowing exactly how much time he still had. He’d received his commission as captain of the Merope-7, but a lot still had to be done before they could depart. If it weren’t for how much he looked forward to commanding his own ship, Aaron would have thrown up his hands at all the tedious paperwork that stood in the way.
He clenched a fist and strode onward toward the commissary. It was his fifth time visiting the place in the last two days, when all he really wanted was to get on his damn ship and—
Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a man not in uniform—a recent volunteer, by the looks of it—carrying a large duffel bag hooked casually under one arm. He was a big, broad-shouldered man, with a thick black beard that stretched almost halfway down his chest. A name was on the tip of Aaron’s tongue, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Matt?” he said aloud, testing his memory. “Matthias? Mattheiu? Ma-Mathusael!”
The man stopped midstride as if shot. He turned slowly in Aaron’s direction, searching for the one who had called out his name. As their eyes met, a wide grin spread across his face.
“Well, if it isn’t my old friend Aaron!” he said—in Deltan, much to Aaron’s delight. He dropped his heavy duffel bag on the floor, and the two of them clasped arms and gave each other a warm shoulder hug.
“What are you doing here? I thought you said you didn’t want anything to do with this war?”
“Yeah, well, seeing the stars sure beats working a deadbeat job at Alahambara Station,” Mathusael replied. “If I have to be away from my wife and kids for nine months, I figure why not have a little excitement in the process?”
Aaron could tell there was more to it than that, but he figured they’d have time enough to discuss it later. Mathusael was an old friend from home, back before they set out for the stars. He’d settled in the Esperanzia system near the Coreward front, on the near side of the New Pleiades. He had a wife and child, but he was still the same old rogue that the Aaron and Isaac had always known.
“Looking mighty fine in that officer’s uniform,” said Mathusael, stepping back to admire him. “It suits you well.”
Aaron beamed. “Oh, yeah! Didn’t you hear? I just made captain.”
“Captain!”
“That’s right! They gave me my own ship, too: the Merope-7, out in the dockyards right now. She’s one of the new ships that just came in from Tajjur.”
Mathusael whistled in admiration. “Hot damn, son. That’s impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“When did you join the Resistance? Last I heard, you boys were trying to save some girl in a cryotank.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Aaron, remembering the girl they’d picked up from the derelict space station on the edge of the Far Outworlds. For a long time, he’d been obsessed with rescuing her, trying to find some way to wake her from the ice. He still thought of her from time to time, but ever since his brother had gone missing, finding him had dominated all of his thoughts.
“Yeah? What about her?”
“Well,” said Aaron, “It’s kind of a long story, but… we lost her.”
Mathusael frowned. “Lost her? How?”
“The Imperials confiscated her. That’s how we got caught up in this war. It was the only way to rescue her.” And now my brother is gone because of it.
