Pledge Allegiance

by Rider England

  I walked back to the door and said to Vess, “The quarters are fine.”

  He smiled. “Excellent, Captain. Now if you’ll follow me, there are a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” He led us back to the transporter and we squeezed inside again. This thing was only meant to carry three people, max. With the four of us in there, the fit was tight.

  When the transporter opened to let us out, we were standing in a small, brightly-lit area before a large double door marked BRIDGE.

  “The ship’s computer will only open this door for personnel who are authorized to be on the bridge,” Vess said. “Go ahead and try it.”

  I stepped forward and the doors slid open.

  Vess grinned. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d clapped his hands together in glee. Now that I had seen the uniforms hanging in my closet and Vess’s enthusiasm regarding the ship, I was a little worried. Was Vess like a child playing with toy soldiers but because he was a billionaire, he could afford real soldiers and ships instead of models? I felt like I was one of the pieces in a WarZone game and Vess was the player, moving me around to suit his whim.

  I put the thought aside for now. Once we were underway, this mission would be under my command. Vess would be waiting in the October Girl until we returned.

  At least, that’s what I hoped was going to happen.

  I looked at the old man gesturing for me to enter the bridge. He wasn’t coming with us, was he?

  Unsure as to how I was going to broach the subject with him, I walked onto the bridge. The door opened onto a raised area behind the main room. A ramp each side of where we stood led down to the bank of screen that displayed star charts, diagnostic diagrams of the ship, and scrolling numbers that reported the status of life-support, weaponry, and a myriad other functions that were performed by the ship’s computer.

  I descended the right-hand ramp and found myself standing by the captain’s chair, which was situated on a raised platform. It was upholstered in black leather and looked comfortable. A control panel had been built into the wide right arm of the chair and a small screen stood nearby. The screen was switched off at the moment.

  Three large windows curved around the front of the bridge, showing the star field before us.

  There were two other chairs in the room, located at the control panels in front of the captain’s chair. I assumed one of them was for Morrow but had no idea who would be sitting in the other. If it was Baltimore, then the bridge was going to be a barrel of laughs with her and Morrow in here.

  “Well, try the chair,” Vess said. “I think you’ll like it.”

  I took a seat. The chair molded itself around my buttocks, thighs, and back. I felt like I was floating in zero-g but not in an uncontrolled way. I shifted my position. The chair adjusted itself to accommodate me, taking my weight so that I felt like I was floating again.

  Vess grinned. “You like that? It’s something my science team came up with. It’s based on the slumberfoam we have on all the beds in the ship. You could sit in that chair for hours and never get a backache.”

  “Great,” I said. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had no intention of sitting here for hours. I was in the habit of pacing around the bridge, stretching my legs, moving my body. At least, I had been in that habit when I’d captained the Oregon and I didn’t see any reason why that would have changed. I wasn’t going to spend this mission sitting on my ass.

  A low chirp sounded from the control panel by my right hand and a small amber light blinked at me. The control panel was similar to the ones I’d been used to, so I knew that the light meant someone was trying to contact me from another part of the ship. The amber color of the light probably told me which part but I wasn’t familiar with the color coding system yet. I pressed a button to answer the incoming communication.

  “Captain, this is Sergeant Hart. Tegan Prime and I are in Conference Room One whenever you’re ready, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant, I’ll be there shortly,” I replied and closed the channel.

  “I guess I’m ready to meet the rest of the crew,” I told Vess.

  He nodded. “Conference Room One is this way.” He ascended the ramp, and the door at the top opened for him.

  I looked at Baltimore and Morrow. “Is he always this enthusiastic?”

  “Only regarding this ship and this mission,” Baltimore said. “He wants his daughter back.”

  I couldn’t fault the guy for that but my own approach to missions was more reserved. I prepared myself for every outcome. Yes, I would try my best to succeed, but sometimes even the best laid plans fell to pieces when they were put into action. Vess didn’t seem to acknowledge that this mission could end in a number of ways, not all of them happy.

  Maybe I was being too pessimistic, or maybe Baltimore’s and Morrow’s personalities were affecting me. After all, this mission to save Vess’s daughter might be a breeze. We might fly to Savarea without meeting any hostile ships, land on the planet and find the survivors immediately, and then fly home without a scratch.

  But somehow I doubted that was going to happen. I’d spent enough hours in space to know that there were all kinds of dangers out here. And we were going to be flying into Horde space and landing on a Horde planet, which multiplied the dangers exponentially.

  I climbed out of the captain’s chair and ascended the ramp to the open door where Vess waited. We rode the transporter to a level where the conference rooms were situated. There were four rooms, two on each side of a short corridor.

  “After you, Captain,” Vess said when we reached the door marked CONFERENCE ROOM 1.

  The door slid open for me and I went through into the room beyond. A long table sat in the center of the room, with chairs lined up along its edges and at its head. There was nobody in the chairs. The two occupants of the room, a man and a woman, stood by the window.

  They turned when I entered.

  The man was tall and well-built with a strong angular face topped by a military buzz cut. He wore sergeant’s stripes on his arm. “Sergeant Hart, sir,” he said as I approached him. He stood stiffly at attention.

  “At ease, Sergeant,” I told him. He relaxed.

  The woman’s appearance took me by surprise. She was short and looked lithe beneath her clothing, which consisted of loose cargo pants and a white top. At least, the top was supposed to be white but it was covered in oil stains like the rest of her clothing.

  But it wasn’t the grease that surprised me; it was the fact that the woman was half machine.

  She had long red hair and a pretty face with green eyes and full lips. From the neck up, she was unblemished but her body was a combination of machinery and flesh. Her left arm and what I could see of the left half of her torso beneath the clothing were formed of dark gray steel with tiny steel cables running like tendons and veins over the surface. Her movements, though, were not mechanical or stiff in any way. Someone had done an amazing job of fusing the machinery to her body.

  “Tegan Prime, Captain” she said, offering her right hand.

  I shook it, looking into those deep green eyes. “You’re the head engineer on this ship?”

  She nodded. “I am. My team will keep her flying no matter what.”

  I liked her enthusiasm. Unlike Vess’s, it seemed borne of confidence rather than childish delight.

  “Excellent,” I said. “It’s good to be working with both of you. If you have any reason to see me, please don’t hesitate, no matter the hour.”

  Prime nodded at me and smiled. Hart looked straight ahead and barked, “Yes, sir.”

  “Are we ready to fly?” Vess asked Tegan Prime.

  “We are,” she said, nodding.

  “Then we should get underway,” he said. “Unless you have any objections, Captain?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “We really shouldn’t waste any time.” Then he frowned and said, “Where is Sumiko?”

  “Meditating,” Prime said.

  “Ah, ye
s,” he said. “Did I mention, Captain, that Sumiko Shibari is an onna-bugeisha from the planet Kamakura?”

  “No,” I said. “You didn’t.” I’d heard of the onna-bugeisha but never met any members of the Japanese female warrior clan in person. They were fine warriors, apparently, trained in many martial arts and also practitioners of a Zen-like philosophy that gave rise to their practice of meditation and other mind control techniques.

  I knew this mission was serious but Vess seemed to have assembled the most stoic crew members in the galaxy. Morrow and Baltimore seemed to dislike me, Hart was obviously stifled by his military zeal, and if there was an onna-bugeisha on board, she was sure to be the most solemn of them all. Only Tegan Prime seemed to have a normal demeanor.

  “I guess I should meet Shibari,” I told Vess, trying to hide my reluctance. I turned to Prime and Hart. “You two should head back to your stations and make ready for take-off.”

  They left the room, Hart with a hearty “Yes, sir!” and Tegan Prime with a smile and a nod. She may have been half machine but she was damned attractive.

  I assumed the Finch had the standard computer that was found in most ships, so I lifted my head slightly and said, “Computer, what is the current location of crew member Sumiko Shibari?”

  A female voice, that of the computer but sounding totally natural with no artificiality at all, responded. “Crew member Sumiko Shibari is currently in the gymnasium, Captain.”

  I looked at Vess. “Should we disturb her if she’s meditating?”

  “Of course,” he said. “Sumiko can hardly wait to see you. She’s probably just lost track of the time. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  Baltimore said, “Morrow and I should prepare for take-off.” She didn’t seem to be directing her comment at anyone in particular. Protocol said she should have asked me, but I didn’t think she could quite bring herself to do that, so she left the words hanging in the air between all of us.

  “Yes, you should,” I said. “Dismissed.”

  They left the conference room and made for the transporter.

  “Well?” Vess asked me expectantly. “What do you think?”

  “Of what?”

  “The ship. The crew. Everything.”

  I didn’t know why he seemed so concerned about my opinion. “It’s fine,” I said.

  “Will it do?”

  “Do?” I wasn’t following him. The ship seemed perfectly adequate for the mission ahead. I didn’t know how she would behave in flight yet but I had no reason to believe there would be any problems. The crew was obviously competent.

  His expression changed from one of boyish enthusiasm to a visage of pain and emotion, as if he had taken off a mask. “Will it be enough to get my daughter back safely?” He leaned against the conference table as if all the strength had drained from his old body.

  “Yes,” I said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I believe it will.” Solomon Vess’s glee regarding the ship, the uniforms, the crew, was obviously an attempt to hide his real emotions. These things were necessary to rescue his daughter but he had no real love for them.

  He knew more about trading figures and stocks than he knew about an Avis class fighter ship and a crew of warriors. This was new territory for him and he probably felt like a fish out of water, something he wasn’t used to. He obviously hid his concerns beneath a veneer of excitement.

  He wasn’t blindly optimistic after all. He was worried.

  “We’re going to do our best to get Georgia back safe and well,” I told him. “You’ve assembled a good crew here and the ship will do her job without any fuss as far as I can see.”

  “All right,” he said, nodding. “I just want everything to be perfect. There mustn’t be any mistakes made. I thought I’d lost Georgia once. Now that I have a chance to rescue her, I can’t lose her again.”

  “Everything is as perfect as it can be,” I assured him. “And I want to thank you for giving me this chance. After what happened on the Oregon, I exiled myself to Iton-3 and my life became a mess. That was probably by my own design, whether consciously or subconsciously. After all, if I had caused the deaths of all those people, then my own life deserved to be a pile of crap, right? I’m not so sure I would have gotten out of that hole if you hadn’t come along with this mission. So, thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. “I told you, Georgia spoke highly of you. I knew what became of you after the Oregon went down. I think there’s a kind of poetic justice in the fact that you will lead the mission to save my daughter. What other captain would be as motivated to save the survivors of the Oregon as the man who feels responsible for them being stranded in the first place?”

  “True,” I said. “I do feel a great responsibility toward them.”

  “I know you do.” He straightened himself and seemed to brighten. “Now, let’s go and meet Sumiko Shibari. Have you ever met an onna-bugeisha before?”

  I shook my head.

  He grinned, his eyes twinkling again. “Well, you may be in for a surprise.”

  CHAPTER 5

  THE SHIP’S gymnasium was located near the crew quarters, Vess explained to me as we rode the transporter. As well as weights and workout machines, it was equipped with a pool, sauna, and open area where the crew could practice their hand-to-hand fighting techniques using protective suits. This open area was where we’d find Shibari, apparently.

  We entered the gym to the sound of metal clanging on metal and men shouting at each other. A group of soldiers was gathered around a bench where one of their number was lying on his back and pressing a loaded barbell. The bystanders were either shouting encouragement or insults, it was difficult to determine which from the noise they were making.

  A couple of other soldiers were running on treadmills in their fatigues. The air had a slightly stale, sweaty smell.

  Past the machines and weights, an open square area was marked by light blue padded flooring. Racks of practice weapons stood along one wall. There were fencing swords, energy lances, fighting sticks, and plain old boxing gloves.

  Sitting at the far corner of the fighting area, her back to us, was a woman in a blue and white kimono. Her head was bowed, her long black hair reaching down between her shoulders and waist.

  I gathered my resolve to meet the person who would probably be the dourest crew member yet and walked across the padded floor toward the woman. Vess hung back, watching with interest.

  When I was about six feet behind Shibari, I halted and waited, thinking perhaps she would sense my presence and end her meditation.

  She stirred slightly and then her head lifted. She looked over her shoulder at me with two deep brown eyes. When she saw me, her face lit up. “Captain!” Scrambling to her feet, she threw herself at me and drew me into a tight hug.

  Surprised, I hugged her back. Her long hair smelled of apple and cinnamon.

  She pulled her head back to look at me, an expression of genuine joy on her face. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “You too,” I said. And I meant it. Although she and I had never met, I was pleased to see her. Nobody could be more different personality-wise from Morrow and Baltimore than this young woman. She was like a breath of fresh air.

  She broke the hug and stepped back. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds. It’s just that I’m so pleased you’re here. Now we can begin our mission under your leadership. Welcome, Captain. I am Sumiko Shibari of the onna-bugeisha and I am at your service.” She bowed slightly. Despite the formality of the words, her face still radiated happiness.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I look forward to working with you.”

  Vess stepped closer. “Sumiko is an expert in hand-to-hand combat, Captain, as well as a crack shot with the bow. She’ll be a great asset on Savarea.”

  “I’m sure she will,” I said. “We’re getting ready for take-off,” I told her. “Do you have a station while the ship is flying?’

  She shook her head. “I have no duties to perfo
rm while we are traveling. I will meditate and practice my weapon skills.”

  “Very well,” I said. “Maybe we can practice together some time. I’m sure I’m a little rusty when it comes to close-quarters combat.”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “We can fight whenever you wish. It would be an honor.”

  “Excellent. I should be getting to the bridge now. It was nice to meet you.”

  “And you also.”

  Vess was grinning.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  “I told you you’d be surprised.”

  Shibari looked slightly alarmed. “You are surprised, Captain?”

  “Well,” I said, searching my mind for the right words, “I have to admit that I am. When I found out that you were an onna-bugeisha, I expected someone entirely different.”

  “Oh?” It was her turn to look surprised. “What did you expect?”

  “Someone more…serious. I know part of your philosophy is that life is all an illusion. I expected you to be more solemn.”

  She smiled. Unlike Baltimore’s cold smile, Shibari’s was warm and genuine. “Captain, if all life is an illusion, then what is the point of being solemn?”

  I nodded. She had a point. “I’ll see you later,” I said. Vess and I left the gym. I looked back at Sumiko Shibari before the door closed behind us. She was moving across the fighting area, jabbing at the air in front of her with a sword, her movement fluid and graceful.

  We took the transporter to the bridge where Morrow was seated at the control console. Baltimore stood near the windows, the stars behind her, outlining the curves of her figure.

  I took my seat. The chair supported me like a feather on the breeze. Vess took the second seat at the command console.

  “We’re going to be taking off soon,” I told him. Didn’t he have a shuttle to catch?

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I held back the sigh of resignation I felt build up inside me. “Are you…are you coming with us on the mission?”