by Tom Dublin
"Yan Mil!" he shouted. "Open the door, please!"
Behind him, the elevator doors opened with a ding.
"Any luck?" asked Jon Rey as he stepped out onto the small landing.
Zeb Lok shook his head. "Nothing. I've knocked, called and even sent messages from my computer. He simply won't talk."
"This is ridiculous," grumbled Jon Rey. "I understand he's heartbroken about losing his wife, but locking himself away doesn't achieve anything. We're all here for him."
"Not if we can't get in to see him," Zeb Lok pointed out.
"Are you sure he's OK?"
"Who knows?" said Zeb Lok with a shrug. "I've heard him moving around in there, but he’s not responding to anyone."
He turned and knocked on the door again. "Yan Mil. It's me, and Jon Rey."
"Let us in so we can talk with you," pleaded Jon Rey.
Once again, there was no reply.
"We may have to go in there without his permission," suggested Jon Rey. "I presume the building's maintenance team has a master key."
"They did," said Zeb Lok. "It went missing just before Yan Mil locked himself inside his apartment."
"You think he has the key with him?"
"It's a possibility."
Jon Rey sighed. "You should get back to work. I'll stay for a while and see if I can get him to open up."
Zeb Lok nodded, pressing the button to call the elevator. "Good luck," he said, "but I wouldn't hold my breath."
14
ICS Fortitude, Crew Quarters
Following the directions she'd been given, Adina found her way to a short corridor with two metallic doors on each side. She'd been told that the cabins on the left were occupied by Jack and Tc'aarlat, so she turned to choose one of the two remaining rooms.
The first door she opened revealed a cabin crammed with trays of canned food, bottles of water and more toilet paper than she'd ever seen in one place in her life.
"I guess I won't be sleeping in here," she said to herself as she closed the door again.
The only remaining room was more habitable, but only slightly.
The cabin featured a narrow cot which hinged down from the far wall, a small hand basin and what appeared to be a repurposed school locker for use as a closet.
Scattered around were objects she presumed had belonged to her predecessor, Dollen. Or, as Jack now called him, That Sphincter-faced Turd Gargler. This amounted to two trash bags filled with unwashed clothing, a handful of personal grooming items and what appeared to be a modified electric animal prod of some kind.
She made a mental note to keep that when it came time to ditch the stuff.
Dumping the smaller of her two cases onto the bed, she unzipped the lid and flipped it open. Sitting on top of her pile of hastily folded clothes was the bag of pills she had 'bought' in the alleyway.
Ecaterina had asked the pharmacy guys back on Base Station 11 to check them out and they'd discovered that, while much lower than the strength Adina had asked for, the DNA suppressants did not contain any additional or potentially harmful ingredients.
She had been allowed to keep the pills in addition to the newer prescription provided by Ecaterina, though she would have to take double the dosage for them to have the same effect.
Fishing two of the tiny tablets out of the bag, she tossed them into her mouth and swallowed them dry. While there was a glass sitting next to the faucet on the hand basin, she didn't know what Dollen had previously used it for and decided that a few seconds of disgusting taste was preferable to dealing with whatever germs she might pick up by using the traitor’s cast off.
"What are those for?"
Adina spun to find Tc'aarlat standing in the open doorway.
"Nothing!" replied Adina, silently admonishing herself for sounding a little too defensive. "They're just... pills."
"Ah..." said Tc'aarlat, nodding. "Just pills. Yeah, I take those from time to time. They're great, those just pills."
"What is your problem?"
Tc'aarlat tried his hand at perfecting his human-like shrug again. "Nothing," he answered. "I've just never seen pills like that before."
Adina scowled. "Yeah well, you didn't notice a suicide bomber right under your nose either, so I'm not going to lose any sleep over it."
"Hey!" Tc'aarlat retorted. "I was just trying to make conversation."
"If you must know, I get travel sick," said Adina, praying the Yollin would buy her lie. "Well, I did back home, so it could well happen out here in space, too."
"Perfect," commented Tc'aarlat with a twitch of his mandibles. "Not only do we have to put up with a new crew member, but now she's going to vomit everywhere."
"Not if I take my meds, I won't," snapped Adina, stuffing the bag of tablets onto the shelf of her locker and slamming the door shut. "What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you have some co-piloting to do?"
Tc'aarlat jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the door on the opposite side of the corridor. "I just came to get Mist a couple of treats from my cabin. Is that OK with you?"
Adina glanced at the Yollin's shoulder pad, noticing for the first time that the Raal hawk wasn't with him for a change.
"Mist's a beautiful bird," she said. "Where is she now?"
Tc'aarlat's expression softened slightly, a faint smile playing around his mouth. "I left her on the bridge with Jack, just to annoy him."
"Annoy him?"
This time, Tc'aarlat did smile. "Yeah, he hates her. Calls her a flying rat." He spotted Adina's concerned expression and added: "It's OK, though. The feeling is more than mutual. Mist thinks he's a piece of garbage, too. I like to leave them alone now and again in an effort to get them to bond."
Now Adina was smiling, too. "Think that'll work?"
"They'll either learn to get along or kill each other trying," grinned Tc'aarlat. He turned and reached for the handle of his cabin door. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Actually, there is one thing you could help me with," said Adina. "Where are the bathrooms on this thing?"
Tc'aarlat turned back again. "Bathroom," he said, "singular. Down the end of the corridor, turn right. One toilet and one shower stall, which I really hope Nathan included in the upgrade to the ship. Fucking water pressure's so weak you have to walk around in the thing to get wet."
"I'll bear that in mind," said Adina, turning back to her case. She pulled out a bra and held it up. "So, can I get a little privacy?
Tc'aarlat's eyes widened in horror at the sight of the underwear. His mandibles tapped together and he was suddenly very glad he hadn't chosen to learn the human function of blushing.
"Yes!" he said, turning to his right and deliberately averting his gaze. "I'd better get back to the bridge, anyway. Jack and Mist might well have killed each other by now."
Just then, Solo's voice echoed out around the ship. "Tc'aarlat and Miss Adina, Nathan Lowell has initiated a video call to the ship, and wishes to discuss the details of this mission with you."
"Coming!" called Adina, stepping out of her cramped quarters. She closed the door and began to follow Tc'aarlat back towards where Jack was waiting. They were almost there when she realized she was still carrying her bra.
She shrugged and hung it over the corner of a sign on the wall which read 'Authorized Personnel Only'. "Well, that is the rule where people accessing my underwear is concerned."
Then she hurried to join her new crew mates on the bridge.
Adina entered the bridge to find Jack leaning back in the captain's chair with his foot resting on Tc'aarlat's co-pilot seat. The Yollin was hunched over, changing a dressing on Jack's ankle.
"What?" Adina exclaimed. "I know Tc'aarlat said he was leaving you and Mist alone to either bond or kill each other, but I didn't believe she would attack you."
From her perch high on the corner of one of the bridge's security cameras, Mist let out an indignant caw.
"Mist didn't do this to me," said Jack, wincing as Tc'aarlat pulled the old bandage away from his skin
. "This was thanks to a fucking werewolf."
Adina caught her breath. "Really?"
Jack nodded. "The Second Ranger took it upon himself to toss me around like a pox-ridden rag doll."
"Why?" asked Adina, taking her own seat at the navigation desk.
"It was supposed to be combat training," explained Jack. "Although it turned out more like the big, bad vampire and over-sized mongrel have a bit of violent fun at the out-of-shape soldier's expense."
"Ignore him," Tc'aarlat chuckled as he wound a new dressing around Jack's leg. "He's just pissed because they beat him to a pulp."
"You would be, too," exclaimed Jack. “It fucking hurt!"
"You're an enhanced human who was given boosted recuperation abilities in some magic Kurtherian fish bowl," said Tc'aarlat. "Couple of days and you won't even remember this."
"Oh, I'll remember it alright," moaned Jack. "And if Ricky Smith thinks-"
His brow furrowed.
"Hang on..."
Tc'aarlat worked to tie off the bandage. "What?"
"You deliberately leave me alone with your blasted bird to try and force me to get along with it?"
Tc'aarlat threw an accusing glance in Adina's direction, but she wasn't paying attention. He turned back to Jack. "First of all, Mist is a she, not an it," he pointed out. "And, yes I do. It's about time you two got to know each other better. Who knows, you might even grow to like her."
Jack lifted his eyes to meet Mist's for a moment. It was clear that the Raal hawk was just as unhappy with Tc'aarlat's impromptu match-making sessions as he was.
"The day I decide to like your bird, is the day you serve her up to me, roasted, with mash potatoes, carrots and all the trimmings. Come on, it's got to be Thanksgiving somewhere in the galaxy, right?"
Mist began to make a growling noise at the back of her throat.
The Yollin slapped Jack's ankle, pushing his leg off the seat and causing his foot to slam down onto the metal floor.
"OW! What did you do that for?"
Tc'aarlat shrugged, this time getting the move exactly right. "Your foot was on my seat." He sat down, busying himself with checking the positions of the buttons on his console.
"Oh, don't start sulking just because I joked about eating your stupid sidekick!"
Tc'aarlat didn't reply.
Jack spun in his chair - taking a second to fully appreciate the lack of squeak - and looked at Adina.
"Adina, you know I was just joking, don't you?"
Adina didn't reply either.
Slowly, Jack turned back to face the front screens. "Well, this is going to be a pleasant trip, isn't it," he said to himself. "It had better not take too long to get to... actually, does anyone happen to know where it is we're going?"
Solo's face appeared to fill the screens once more. "I have been given co-ordinates within the Ordon Nebula, Jack. However, the journey shouldn't take too long. We have a lot of distance to cover, but I'll be utilizing two Federation Gates to get us there. Barring unseen delays, our estimated time of arrival is in just over an hour."
"Great," said Jack, reaching over to grab his tablet. "Thanks, Mum."
The bridge fell silent while everyone allowed the faux pas to sink in.
Jack closed his eyes, dropped his head down to his chest, and sighed. "Oh, baby Jesus and all the baby saints. Tell me I didn't just say that."
Adina began to giggle.
"I told you earlier: Solo looks like my mother."
Tc'aarlat tried to remain serious, but his shoulders were soon shaking with barely suppressed chuckling.
"It was an easy mistake to make, Okay?!"
Adina tossed her head back and began to laugh loud and hard. Tc'aarlat gave up any pretense not to be enjoying the situation and laughed along.
From her perch, Mist cried chee chee repeatedly in what sounded very much like a human expression of amusement.
Even Solo appeared to be tittering.
Jack felt his cheeks burn. "Look, I didn't mean..."
But, it was no good. He had to admit to appreciating the comical turn of events and, before long, he was joining in with the laughter.
"I haven't done anything like that since the ninth grade, when I accidentally called the school principal 'Granddad'!" Jack sniggered. "He was only in his 40s, and wasn't impressed."
"You think that's bad," said Adina, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "I once sent a naughty text to an ex-boyfriend after a night out, telling him that I was, er... let's say thinking about him and included a snapshot of the action. The only problem was, I was so drunk I accidentally sent it to someone in my contact list with the same name. His dad!"
Tc'aarlat's mandibles shot wide open in surprise. "No!"
Adina nodded, covering her face with her hands as she recalled the embarrassing memory. "Yep. And he replied to me, too!"
This time, it was Jack's turn to look shocked. "How the hell did you get out of that?"
"I didn't," replied Adina with a smirk. “He was cool about it, although I did delete both of them from my contact list after that.”
Once again, the ship's bridge echoed with the sound of laughter - just as the image on the screens changed, and Nathan appeared from his office.
"Sounds like you guys are getting along," he commented with a smile.
"You could say that," said Jack. "Although, that could be because Tc'aarlat and I have been around a lot longer than our new navigator here. Apparently, she has a thing for older men."
A pen bounced off the side of Jack's head.
"Hey! You're making me sound like some sort of grave robber!"
"Maybe that could be our team name," Tc'aarlat suggested. "Adina and the Coffin Dodgers."
This kicked off another round of helpless laughter among the trio.
Nathan waited patiently for the merriment to die down. "My apologies for having to change the subject to the task at hand, but our scanners show you are approaching the first of your two Gates, and it will be much easier to discuss your mission while we are all in the same sector of space."
Adina clicked a link on her tablet that brought up a star chart. "Where we're going is that far away?"
"You'll be heading through the Ord Gate, and into the Ordon Nebula," Nathan explained. "A vast cloud of gas and dust from which stars and planets are still in the process of forming."
"Doesn't exactly sound hospitable," said Jake.
"Parts of it aren't too bad," said Nathan. "But there are areas of the Ordon Nebula I wouldn't wish my worst enemies to visit."
"Like the Ordanian Hub," Tc'aarlat put in.
Jack turned to him. "You've heard of this place?"
Tc'aarlat nodded. "Everyone who's ever been involved in the less than legal aspects of life has. Like Nathan says, it's not exactly a vacation spot."
Nathan uploaded a graphic to the ship's view screens, depicting a small solar system. "There are five planets in the Ordanian Hub, all orbiting a dark energy star," he said, zooming in to the center of the image. "Each one is home to some breed of criminal. Thieves, murderers, people traffickers - you'll find them all here, and much more besides."
Tc'aarlat's mandibles tapped together. "The people who hang out there make the Skaine look like schoolgirls."
"And that's where you're sending us on our first mission?" demanded Adina.
"Thankfully, no," Nathan replied, sliding a handful of papers out from a manila folder on his desk. "You're headed to Alma Nine, a small planet on the outskirts of the nebula and home to an alien species from a world called Malatia."
The on-screen map moved to focus on a small, blue dot on the far right hand side of the display.
"The Malatians arrived just over ten years ago, terraformed the planet and made it their home."
"Why the move?" asked Jack. "Are the Malatians colonists?"
"Before long, they'll be refugees," answered Nathan. "Their home world is living on borrowed time, destined to be destroyed when the star it orbits goes superno
va at some point in the next thousand years. The group living on Alma Nine has established just one of dozens of other world colonies, and they are by far the most successful."
"So, what's the emergency?" queried Tc'aarlat. "Why are you sending us there now. And what, exactly, are we supposed to be delivering?"
Nathan laid out the current political status on Alma Nine, explaining about Tor Val's successful leadership, and how she had reached out to the Etheric Empire shortly before her death in a traffic accident.
"So, she dies right after announcing that she wants to join the Federation?" said Adina. "Sounds like quite a coincidence."
"Exactly our thinking," said Nathan. "That's why you guys are headed there. You're carrying several miles worth of crowd control barriers; railings to line the route of Tor Val's funeral procession through the streets of Taron City, the colony's capital."
"All well and good," commented Jack, "but that doesn't explain how we can get close enough to the big players to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. Not everyone treats their delivery crews the way you do."
"We've already thought of that," said Nathan as a printer embedded in the bridge's control desk began to produce the first of three postcard sized pieces of paper. "You are also the official delegation from the Etheric Empire, there to pay your respects to Tor Val and her grieving subjects. Solo should be printing out your invitations now."
Jack took the invitations and passed one each to Tc'aarlat and Adina.
"Hang on," said Adina, scanning the ornate script providing details of the time and location for the service, "we're going to a funeral? I wish you'd told me that before I started packing. The only black dress I have with me is more suited to a night out than a somber memorial."
"That's just as well," smiled Nathan. "The Malatian color for mourning is actually purple."
Adina threw her hands up. "Well, that's me out, then. I don't own anything purple - aside from an old pair of sweat pants I wore when I painted my apartment."
"She's got a point, Nathan," Jack said. "I can't say my wardrobe boasts any purple clothing, either. We're not exactly going to look respectful."
"Relax," insisted Nathan. "We've got you covered. You'll find suitable outfits in your size waiting in the storage compartment of The Pegasus."
