By Darkness Forged (Seeker's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper Book 3)

by Nathan Lowell

  Ms. Fortuner slid into the wardroom and I took my seat. Everyone followed suit.

  “First order of business. You’ve all met in the passageways already but a formal welcome to our new people.” I raised my mug to Zoya and Natalya in turn.

  That got some smiles and murmurs of “welcome aboard.”

  “Second order, thanks to Ms. Ross and Chief Stevens. It’s been an honor and a pleasure.”

  That got more smiles and a few knowing grins around the table.

  “Are we all settled?” I asked, looking around the table.

  “We’re in the suite,” the chief said. “I’m moving down to campus housing after you’ve gone.”

  “I’ve got a ticket to Jett on a DST packet in a few days,” Al said.

  “Nice when the owner sends a yacht for ya, huh?” the chief asked, with an elbow nudge.

  Al chuckled. “It’s certainly not something I’m used to.”

  “I’ll forward the change of address to the captain’s board,” I said. “Maybe by the time your residence is up they’ll have moved on it.”

  She nodded. “Appreciated, Skipper.”

  I looked to Natalya. “How’s the engineering division looking, Chief?”

  She grinned. “I’m not quite used to that title yet. The division is ready for space. Tanks are topped. Spares inventory is up to spec.”

  “Any problems with the crew?” I asked.

  “No. They’re a good lot. They seem to be taking the change in stride. Nobody’s challenged me for the position.” She nodded toward the chief. “I would have been surprised if she left me anything but a well-managed division. I’ll try to keep it that way.”

  The chief grinned. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Ms. Usoko?” I asked.

  “I’ve met everybody in the division, I think. Al warned me about Bentley.”

  Everybody laughed.

  “He’s a good guy,” she said. “All of them are top notch and a lot of them are working on their next ratings.”

  “I found that in engineering, too,” Ms. Regyri said.

  “It’s a bit of a cause with me,” I said. “I can be a little pushy about people moving up. Company policy to give them the title and pay even if their job duties don’t change substantially. I’d be perfectly happy to have spec-one ship handlers on messenger watch.”

  Zoya frowned for a moment before she caught on. “Because everybody else is already spec-one something?”

  I nodded. “I wouldn’t expect to keep them once they get too far along, but I’d be happy for the Chernyakova to have the reputation that crew moves up and out.”

  Zoya nodded. “I haven’t checked with Ms. Sharps yet, but I’ll double-check on stores before we get underway. She doesn’t strike me as the kind to short us on food.”

  I grinned. “I think you’ll find your trust paying off. She and Pip have an arrangement going where the galley isn’t an expense for the ship. The last two quarters it actually generated profit for us.”

  She looked at Pip. “Really? How do you do that?”

  I thought he might revert to a stammering fan-boy but he took a deep breath and launched into his spiel about the amount of food we needed to satisfy CPJCT regs and how we never used it all so we traded in back-stock items, etc., etc.

  I couldn’t help notice that the more he talked, the more he loosened up. Or maybe it was that Ms. Usoko seemed to shed a bit of her reserve.

  I let it go on for a tick or so and held up my hand. “Off line?”

  They both nodded but Ms. Usoko leaned over to say, “Brilliant idea.”

  “Pip, I heard we have a can.”

  “We do, Skipper. Hydroponic supplies bound for The Ranch. Nothing exciting but we got a good rate.”

  “Anybody object if we pull out of here tomorrow? Any unfinished business before we go?”

  Nobody spoke up.

  “Good enough. Ms. Usoko, pass the word that liberty expires at 0600 tomorrow morning.”

  “Liberty expires at 0600 tomorrow, aye, Captain.”

  “Mr. Reed, do we have all the astrogation updates?”

  “Everything that’s come in so far. I’m expecting another batch tonight. I’ve got the mid so they’ll be in by morning.”

  “We’ll need to file for somewhere in order to get clearance for departure,” I said.

  “I know the drill, Skipper. What time?”

  “Let’s see if we can get at tug for 1330.”

  “1330, aye, Captain.”

  “Ms. Fortuner, can you get a full system backup off-site by then?”

  “Of course, Skipper. Do we have a place to store it?”

  “Get with Pip and rent a storage cube.” I looked at Pip who nodded back. “We should have done it before.”

  “Captain?” Zoya asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Madoka kept backups at all the major stations in the Toe-Holds. Zvezda Moya was our home port, but we found it useful to be able to take an off-site more often than when we made it back home. We never needed them but it was cheap insurance.”

  “I like that. Pip?”

  He pulled out his tablet and started tapping. “On it.”

  “Ms. Fortuner?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Anybody else? Anything I’m missing?”

  Nobody raised a hand so I stood. “All right. Meeting adjourned. Thank you, everybody. I’ll be in the cabin if there’s anything you want to talk to me about.” I filled my mug from one of the carafes and exited the wardroom.

  It only took a moment for me to climb the ladder but I had barely settled behind my console when Al showed up at the door.

  I waved her in. “Close the door if you want.”

  She shook her head. “Usoko is ferocious. She doesn’t need me dogging her anymore, so I’m off. I only wanted a minute to thank you, Skipper. Having you put me in for the captains’ board ...” She shook her head. “I may or may not make it but just being put in? Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Don’t start getting sappy on me,” I said.

  She snorted. “As if, but I wanted you to have this. The cabin could use a little decoration.” She reached back into the passage and brought in a framed picture. It showed the Chernyakova coming out of the Unwin yards at Dree. I stood and walked around the console, drawn to the near photographic rendering and entranced by the play of light across the hull with the darkened yard gantries lurking in the background. She pressed it into my hands. “It’s got magnets in the frame,” she said. “They’ll be strong enough to support it.”

  “It’s amazing, Al.” I could barely drag myself away from staring at it to look at her. “I’m—well, I’m speechless, I guess.” I held it up to the bulkhead beside the door and moved it about a little until I felt the magnets pull against the steel supports behind the bulkhead panels. When I released it, it snapped to the wall and looked like it had always been there. I had a hard time swallowing for a moment when I saw her grinning at me. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Her grin softened. “What we always say, Skipper. Safe voyage.”

  I opened my arms and she gave me a hug with back-slap flourishes. “Safe voyage, Al.”

  She stepped back, her eyes as damp as I suspected mine must have been. She came to attention and saluted.

  I returned the salute.

  With a final grin and a nod, she left the cabin and disappeared down the ladder.

  I went back to my chair and admired the painting from afar. The pale gray ship slashed across the darkness of the yard and the stars beyond. It was never a view anybody had seen in person, but she’d captured the vision in a way that pulled to me.

  The chief stepped into the open door frame like she’d been waiting outside for Al to leave. “Gotta tick?”

  “Of course.”

  She entered and swung the door closed behind her. She stared at the painting for a moment before taking her customary seat. “It’s something, isn’t it?”

  “I’m dumbfounded,” I said
.

  “She’s been working on that for weeks.”

  “You’ve seen it in process?” I asked.

  The chief shook her head. “Nobody sees her work in process. I saw it the other day while we were packing up to move out. Zoya hid it in her stateroom until Al could present it to you.”

  “I know you picked them. Can I ask why them?”

  “Gut feeling. They’re both top notch,” she said. “Natalya has mechanical skills that exceed my own. I’m a theorist at heart. She’s a nuts-and-bolts, get-her-hands-dirty engineering officer. She’s got the heart to help without helping too much. She’s happy to see people try and fail, but has no patience for those who won’t even try.

  “Zoya has been on the bridge since she was a teen. Her grandfather groomed her to run a ship while her grandmother pulled her to the family business. She’s a legend among the Usoko people in Margary—and probably in the Toe-Holds as well.”

  “That explains her command presence,” I said. “What’s the story with her and Pip?”

  “Pip met them both stanyers ago. They were trying to recover from the UMS17 disaster and had a mutiny. The two of them managed to round up the mutineers and sent word to us to get them picked up. Rachel took Pip’s ship—and Pip—over to do the transfer. Rachel said Pip had been reduced to stammering and staring at his shoes the second Zoya walked into the room.”

  “That must have been a great first impression.”

  “Yeah. The effect doesn’t seem to have lessened much. I thought he was going to puke on his shoes when she walked in,” the chief said.

  “I have never seen him act this way around anybody. In all the stanyers I’ve known him, he’s always at least attempted to be a player. He didn’t always succeed, but he always wore that ladies’-man shell,” I said. “Thank the heavens he seems to be coming around.”

  The chief grinned. “Zee is a force of nature. She might be just what Pip needs.”

  “You think she’s going to rein him in?” I felt my eyebrows rise at the idea.

  She shook her head. “No, I think she’s going to make him look real hard at himself in ways neither of us have been able to.”

  I stared at her for a couple of heartbeats too long, apparently.

  “Natalya isn’t Greta,” she said.

  “But she might be just what I need?” I asked, a sour taste growing in my mouth.

  “Don’t put words in my mouth.” The chief frowned at me. “She’s the best engineering chief in the Western Annex. I wouldn’t leave you with somebody who couldn’t do the job on a daily basis and still rise to the challenges of Toe-Hold and High Line. She is just what you need because she’s just what the ship needs.”

  I felt the anger beginning to recede a little. “Sorry,” I said. “Just. Made my hackles rise a little.”

  She grinned. “Understandable.” She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a silver flask. “I need to get going myself. Natalya’s got the job under control and I want to get down to campus and get settled. Here.” She clicked the flask onto my desk. “I wanted to leave you something to remember me by.”

  I picked up the flask, smiling at the memories of having her spike my coffee. “I can’t take your flask,” I said.

  “That’s not mine,” she said.

  I flipped it over and found the inscription. “Presented to Capt. Ishmael H. Wang for meritorious service above and beyond the call of duty under hazardous and life threatening conditions. Core Worlds Navy Admiral Margaret Stevens.” I had to read it twice. I looked up at her.

  “It’s empty. You’ll need to fill it yourself.” She stood. “Thank you, dear boy. Safe voyage.”

  She started for the door before I could move.

  “Wait, is this a joke?” I asked.

  She grinned. “No, that’s a flask.”

  “But—” I pointed to the inscription.

  “Oh, yes, well. Of course, it’s a joke. A gift from an old chief who used to sail with you. Strangest sense of humor, but a good judge of fine rum. Right?”

  I tried to think of something to say but couldn’t get my mind around anything coherent beyond “Safe voyage.”

  She grinned at me again. “Never know. I might be back,” she said, before ducking through the door, latching it behind her with a click.

  I stared at the flask, pulled between the urge to lock it in the ship’s safe and the desire to find a bottle of rum to fill it from. I settled for slipping it into a storage drawer in my console.

  Chapter 47

  Newmar System: 2376, June 3

  Ms. Usoko looked up from the watchstander’s console. “We’ve reached the Burleson limit, Captain.”

  “I’ve the urge to go somewhere else, Ms. Usoko.”

  She grinned at me, her teeth white against her skin in the dimness of the bridge. “I believe Mr. Reed has a destination in mind, Cap.”

  “Is that true, Mr. Reed?” I asked.

  “Well, Skipper, it’s either jump or try to turn this boat around. I’d recommend the jump.”

  “Where are we going, Mr. Reed?”

  “The Ranch, eventually, Captain, but for now?” He waved a hand toward the bow. “Somewhere out there. I hope.”

  “Close enough, Mr. Reed. Ms. Regyri, are the boys in the back ready?”

  “Yes, Captain. Burlesons charged and ready. Capacitors at full. We can do two full jumps.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Regyri. Secure sails and sail generators for the jump.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain. Securing sails and sail generators.” After a moment she said. “Sails and sail generators are secured, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Regyri. Mr. Reed? Ready about. Hard a-lee.”

  I heard his keyboard click and the stars moved to new locations in the sky around us.

  “Jump complete,” Ms. Usoko said. “Verifying location.”

  “Burlesons are recharging, Captain,” Ms. Regyri said.

  “Location set, Skipper,” Mr. Reed said. “We’re just a bit long and we’ll need a short burn to get back on the path.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. Tell me when you’ve defined short, if you would.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

  “Ms. Usoko, log the jump, if you would?”

  “Jump logged, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Usoko. Where are we on the Burlesons, Ms. Regyri?”

  “Sixty percent and charging, Captain.”

  “Short is defined at ten ticks and a few seconds, Captain. Programmed and ready.”

  “Execute, Mr. Reed.”

  “Execute burn, aye, aye, Captain.”

  The familiar rumble under my feet felt like coming home as the ship spun around its axis, twisting to point the bow to our next destination.

  I had to give Chief Stevens credit. Natalya and Zoya had slipped into their positions like two hands into a pair of gloves. The crew meshed with them—perhaps even better than they had with Al and the chief. Sitting there looking around the bridge, I would have been hard-pressed to point to the new kids if I hadn’t known who they were.

  “What’s the calendar look like, Mr. Reed?” I asked.

  “Best course shows one more long, a short, then another long and another short one into the system, Skipper.”

  “That’s an odd short,” I said.

  “It lines us up for the last long one to drop us for the approach, Captain. Alternate takes longer and we have to do a lot of short jumps with course corrections between.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. I trust your judgment on these things.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I try to exceed expectations.”

  I chuckled a little and watched the countdown timer click over to zero. The rumbling under my feet stopped.

  “Burn complete, Captain. We are on the beam.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. Ms. Regyri?”

  “Plenty of juice, Captain.”

  “Mr. Reed? Ready about. Hard a-lee.”

  The stars shifted again.

  “Verifying positi
on, Captain,” Ms. Usoko said. “Logging the jump.”

  “Burlesons are charging. Capacitors at twenty-percent, Captain.”

  “We’re where we need to be, Skipper, but we need a corrective burn here.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Regyri. Mr. Reed? How much burn? Hours? Days?”

  “Still calculating, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. Ms. Regyri, how soon before the capacitor reaches full charge?”

  “Eight stans, Captain.”

  “Burn for seven stans, forty-five ticks and change,” Mr. Reed said.

  “Close enough. Mr. Reed, execute burn. Transfer updated course plot to helm.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain. Execute burn. Course plot to helm.”

  I felt the rumble and watched Usoko lean over to Torkelson on the helm.

  “Helm reports course update, locked and on the beam, Cap.” Ms. Usoko said.

  “Thank you, Ms. Usoko. Secure from navigation stations. Set normal watch throughout the ship.”

  “Secure from navigation stations and set normal watch throughout the ship, aye, aye, Cap.” Ms. Usoko made the announcement. “Logged, Captain.”

  I stood up and stretched. “Thank you, everyone. Well done.” I turned to the ladder and slid down on the railings, ducking into the cabin. I left the door open in case anybody needed a word. I stood there for a moment, staring at that damned blank bulkhead.

  I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Ms. Regyri peeking in.

  “Something wrong, Skipper?”

  I shook my head but then shrugged. “Come in, Chief.” I waved her into a chair.

  She perched on the seat and I faced the bulkhead again. “When I made captain, my first ship was a tractor. The cabin ran across the bow and had a port.” I spread my arms. “Almost all the way around. It looked straight out over the docking ring.”

  “That must have been quite a view,” she said.

  “It was. As long as we’ve been flying the Chernyakova, I’ve missed that view. It’s silly, I know. That bulkhead is actually along the starboard side of the hull. Even if we could cut a port, the bow is that way.” I put my left arm out. I looked at Ms. Regyri. “So, yeah. I was standing there cursing this bulkhead because it’s not a window.” I shrugged.