Death Haunts the Stars

by Jeffrey M. Fortney

  For many years, Captain Emanuel Garcia-Lopez had been Rivers' commanding officer, mentor, and friend. Garcia-Lopez had a habit of walking the ship, touring each deck and major compartment, to get a feel for how the ship was running and to look for any problems with his ship or his crew. Rivers had picked up the habit from his mentor.

  With FTL insertion only 8 hours away, Rivers could not possibly tour the whole. But he could visit key locations such as Engineering, Hydroponics, Cargo, the Main Hangar Bay, and the Medical Center before having to return to the bridge.

  Rivers still wasn't quite sure about his new XO just yet. She had been highly recommended by her previous commanding officers and had thus far performed her job promptly and efficiently; but something wasn't quite right between her and her new captain. Rivers sincerely hoped they could resolve whatever issue existed between them before it could affect the safety and wellbeing of his ship and crew.

  Rivers left the elevator when its doors opened on the Engineering Deck and made his way to his chief engineer, Pat Deckard. The engineer was of average height and build, with dark skin and short gray hair that was rapidly receding from his forehead. Deckard didn't mind at all. While 23rd Century medicine had long ago cured male pattern baldness, Deckard was more dedicated to his ship and its many systems than he was his own vanity. Rivers could always rely on Deckard to give him the unvarnished truth.

  At the moment, Deckard and two of his team were running a diagnostic on the ship's sublight engines while they were under power. Rivers waited until they were done before he spoke with Deckard.

  "How's she doing, Pat?"

  "Captain, I'm sorry...I didn't hear you step up. The sublight engines are purring like a litter of happy kittens, sir. The FTL drive warm-up sequence is proceeding apace and she'll be ready when we reach the IP. All other systems are in the green, Captain!" There was obvious pride in the engineer's voice. He and his engineering crew knew the Conestoga as well as, if not better, than those who had designed and built her years before. They had assisted the Fleet Dock crews with the ship's recent overhaul and refit in an effort to become familiar with any changes or upgrades first hand.

  Rivers smiled at his old friend, "Pat, I try not to joggle your elbow while you and your team take care of our ship. And I don't need your personnel snapping to every time I poke my head through the hatch. I know I've got your respect; you and your folks certainly have mine. Now, since Engineering is functioning so well, I will go bother someone else!" Rivers looked around the room, smiling and waving at the engineers there. "Well done on the launch, folks! You've got us off to a great start on this voyage!" And with that, he strode from Engineering and made his way toward his next destination.

  Next, he wandered down to the Hydroponics section where large masses of plants and vegetables grew in special nutrient baths. The flora occupying this massive compartment and others compartments aboard the Conestoga helped maintain the atmosphere within the giant vessel and provided fresh vegetables and fruits for the crew and active passengers during the long voyage to Camadin and back to Earth. Rivers enjoyed his visits to the 'Farm', as everyone on the ship referred to Hydroponics. As a junior officer years before, he had been in charge of a 'Farm' on another vessel. Maybe, he thought, Lieutenant Barkley will let me slice off a piece of a potato? Haven't eaten a raw tater in a while, he thought.

  Lieutenant Junior Grade Gene Barkley was waiting for his captain at the hatch and handed him a fresh potato slice. Rivers grinned at the young officer and asked, "Did Deckard or someone else call you?"

  Barkley replied, "No, sir! This being my second cruise with you, I know your habit of 'walking the ship', I believe you call it, sir?"

  "I do indeed, Mr. Barkley. An excellent habit I picked up from a good friend and mentor. Hopefully, you'll pick up a number of such habits to help you when you are a ship's captain," said Rivers.

  "That's a long way off, sir," Barkley said. From the look in Barkley's eyes, River could tell the thought of being a ship's captain one day had indeed crossed the younger man's mind more than once!

  "Maybe not as far off as you might think, Gene. Why don't you join me at the Captain's Table for dinner tomorrow night, okay?" Rivers finished his potato slice and checked his watch. "Got to keep moving along. Thanks for the tater, Gene. See you at dinner."

  Rivers was met at the entrance to Cargo Bay One by Lieutenant Mike Shelton, who was waiting with a six-wheeled cargo hauler loaded with several small crates. "Howdy, Mike!" Rivers called out to the younger officer. "Everything going smoothly?" It was a purely rhetorical question. Shelton and his personnel had been loading cargo for this run for months, carefully positioning and then anchoring each container.

  "Oh yes, sir," Shelton responded, dismounting from the cargo hauler. "We've just finished a quick check. We did have a couple of shipping containers pop open. Seems their hatches weren't secured...dumped a number of bags of grain on the deck. Otherwise nothing else seems to be out of place. It must have been a smooth departure. Would you like a lift over to Hangar Bay One, Captain? I'm running a load that way right now."

  "Excellent timing, Mike," Rivers answered, climbing into the passenger seat. Shelton got behind the hauler's controls and soon they were driving quickly through an aisle that ran the length of the massive cargo area. In some parts of the bay, cargo containers were stacked floor to ceiling and packed close together between large vertical braces. In other locations, narrow spaces existed between stacks to allow crew access to critical systems access hatches in the walls behind the stacks.

  The Colonial Fleet tried to pack every possible square foot of each ship's cargo space with supplies and equipment that a colony might need. On each return trip, the same spaces were used for whatever materials a colony could export. Sometimes it was ore, other times it was petroleum, and others it was exotic foodstuffs. On one trip, the Connie had transported several dozen species of animals from the colony world of Doria for researchers on Earth. Captain Garcia-Lopez and Executive Officer Rivers thought that the crew would never get the stench of those creatures out of the ship!

  Minutes later, the cargo hauler rolled up to the giant doorway separating the primary cargo and hangar spaces. The massive doors were opened wide enough to allow cargo haulers and personnel to move between the two areas. Shelton stopped his hauler just inside the hangar, where Lieutenant Commander Pete Slade, Flight Deck Officer, and Commander McLelland Edison Bradley, Ship's Security Officer, were talking.

  "Thanks for the ride, Mike," Rivers said brightly as he stepped from the cargo hauler. Shelton waved his acknowledgment and drove off, leaving Rivers with the other two officers. Slade and Bradley snapped to and saluted the captain as he approached them. Rivers returned the salutes and said jovially, "Okay, what are you two rascals up to that I get a salute?"

  Bradley smiled his infamous 'aw shucks' grin and asked, "Who us, Skipper? We're as pure as the driven snow!"

  Rivers looked back and forth across the bare steel of the hangar deck. "That's funny, I don't see any snow here. And don't you two try to create some for bobsledding, either."

  "We'll behave, Captain," said Slade. "Honest, we'll be on our best behavior."

  Captain Rivers tilted his head slightly and looked upon two of his favorite crewmembers. Bradley was responsible for security inside and outside the giant vessel. He commanded the ship's defensive squadron of 25 space fighter pilots and the 30 member internal security team. The last attack upon a Terran colony ship had occurred just over two years before when a Daizini swarm tried to jump the Conestoga on her way home to Earth. Bradley and his fighter crews certainly earned their pay that day, saving the ship and the lives of all of the personnel aboard her.

  Slade was tall and slender, with dark eyes and skin, yet retained a boyish look for all of his 32 years of life. His serious demeanor seemed totally out of character for his youthful appearance, causing many people to underestimate the man. Slade was responsible for the maintenance, armament, and other personnel who
took care of the Conestoga's 20 Stinger space fighters. He and his division had rated 'outstanding' during the past five evaluation periods and Slade intended to maintain his crew's high level of performance.

  Bradley shifted quickly from playful to serious. "Out 'walking the ship', Skipper? Well sir, our Stingers and pilots are locked, cocked, and ready to rock, if you need us. Internal security sweep shows everything's quiet right now. Of course, it's still quite early in the voyage."

  Rivers nodded. His crew did indeed know him too well. "Yep! The XO and the bridge crew have everything under control, so I figured I'd take a walk before we reach the IP. The first of many such walks on this voyage...besides the exercise is good for me!" He paused to check the time again. He had just enough time to swing by the Medical Center and check in there, then hop up to his quarters to freshen up before returning to the bridge. He spoke with Bradley and Slade for a couple of more minutes before taking his leave and moving to a nearby slideway, which would move him horizontally to the elevator bank nearest the Med Center.

  Several minutes later, Rivers stepped into the ship's large Medical Center and his Chief Medical Officer's domain. "How's it going, Charlotte?"

  CMO Charlotte Hanson looked up from the computer tablet on which she was writing a report. "Hello, James, I've been expecting you. The readouts on our colonists in stasis show they are doing just fine. We've had two crew members with minor injuries, strains and sprains, this morning. Oh...and three colonists have already come in claiming to be space sick."

  Rivers nodded. "So, it's been routine, in other words. How are your new personnel settling in?"

  Hanson nodded in return. "Routine. And my new people are doing just fine. Spending an extra couple of weeks aboard ship before departure was a very good idea. It really helped them acclimate to life aboard the Connie."

  Rivers leaned towards the doctor and asked softly, "Join me for dinner tomorrow night, Doctor?"

  "Why, I thought you'd never ask, Captain!" Charlotte answered favoring the captain with a smile. Her right hand reached out and her fingers brushed gently against the back of his hand. Rivers reached over, patted her hand, and winked at her.

  After the captain left, Lieutenant Allison "Allie" Schmidt stepped over to speak to Dr. Hanson. "Isn't it unusual for a captain to be off the bridge so soon after launch? What if something happened?" Schmidt was new aboard the Conestoga. She was tall and slender with fair skin and dark eyes and hair. Her primary training was in psychology but she supplemented these with advanced training in space medicine.

  Charlotte Hanson looked at her department's new psychologist. "Allie, have you forgotten the command implant that each senior officer, commanders and above, is required to have? A neuroelectronic linkage device is surgically embedded in their craniums...here." Charlotte tapped a point just behind and slightly above her right ear. "Captain Rivers may not be on the bridge, but I can assure you that he is in constant contact with the ship's computers and his bridge crew through that linkage. 'Walking the ship' is merely his way of getting a feel for how the Conestoga and her crew are doing at this critical first part of our journey. You'll see him do it again, quite often, in the weeks and months ahead. More times than not, he'll discover and head off a potential problem before it becomes a reality because of his little walkabouts."

  Two decks up and several bulkhead sections forward, Captain James Rivers was heading towards his quarters. At times, he'd nod or wave at a passing crewmember but mostly he was lost to his own thoughts. More accurately, he was mentally reviewing the ongoing stream of data from the Connie's main computer system. Thus far, all of the Conestoga's systems were in the green and the ship was on course.

  Reaching the door to his quarters, Rivers placed the palm of his right hand against a glasslike pad to the right of the door and said softly, "Open!" Recognizing his palm and finger prints as well as his voice, the door slid silently to one side allowing him to enter what he affectionately called his 'sittin' room'. This room served as a living room, an informal meeting area, and an office allowing the rest of his quarters to remain a private sanctuary. The room's lights came on as he entered.

  Rivers stepped over to the doorway that led into his bedroom and bathroom facilities. The lights in the bedroom came on as he entered. He placed his communicator and other personal items on his dresser then stripped off his boots and uniform. To his sensitive nose, the uniform smelled slightly of sweat and other odors associated with the various places he'd visited during his stroll. He had to chuckle when he remembered Captain Garcia-Lopez telling him that part of a captain's job is to inspire the crew by appearing unfazed by the routine and the dangerous. Part and parcel to that was always looking, acting, and even smelling cool, calm, and collected. After each tour of the ship, Garcia-Lopez had stopped at his quarters, showered, shaved, and changed into a fresh uniform.

  As a young captain, Rivers had tried it and found that it helped. He still had a long day ahead and it felt good to face it refreshed and clean shaven. After placing his dirty clothes in a hamper, he stepped into his private bathroom. His electric razor made short work of his 5 o'clock shadow. Then it was into the shower. Needles of hot water bounced from his tanned skin as he lounged under its warmth before scrubbing away the morning's 'grit and grime' as his mother used to call it. All too soon the water temperature dropped to a bracing and downright chilly level.

  Rivers turned off the shower and stepped under the heat lamp. There he began to dry himself with a large towel. Once dried, combed, and sprayed with deodorant and aftershave, he stepped over to his closet. He drew out a fresh ship's jumpsuit and slid it on then recovered his personal items from the top of the dresser. First, he affixed a patch to left side of his suit just above his heart. The patch displayed his rank and name. Next, he fastened the wide band of his chronometer around his left wrist. Finally, he slid his communicator into the waist pouch designed for the device.

  Rivers lifted one other item from the top of the dresser and held them in his hands before lowering the thin titanium chain over his head and down around his neck. This chain carried his Terran Colonial Fleet dog tags which also doubled as a computer system verification device. One non-standard item hung from the chain...a thin ring of white gold, a family heirloom. Very soon, he planned to remove that ring from the chain and slide it onto a certain someone's ring finger.

  Refreshed and redressed, Captain James B. Rivers left his quarters and made his way back to the bridge. When the elevator doors opened, Lieutenant Commander Bynes called out, "Captain's on the bridge!" Rivers nodded to his communications officer to thank him for the courtesy and made his way toward the command seat and its console.

  The XO was slow to rise from the seat, as if reluctant to surrender the power of command, but rise she did. "XO still has the conn," Rivers said, projecting his voice carefully. Calmness and confidence, not arrogance, he heard the voice of Manny Garcia-Lopez whisper in his mind. A captain assumes command; you don't just take it!

  "Status, XO?" Rivers asked O'Reilly as he waved for her to sit back down in the seat.

  O'Reilly sat back down, hesitating for a split second before speaking as if to say, Captain, you can get that info through your command implant! Again, Rivers wondered if he was misreading his XO, not giving her the benefit of the doubt and time to grow into the role. The promotion of Commander Geoff Reynolds, Rivers' previous executive officer and friend, to captain and his reassignment to a star vessel of his own had left a rather large pair of shoes for O'Reilly to fill aboard the Conestoga.

  Commander Meaghan O'Reilly had been highly recommended by her previous commanders and by the Personnel Department at Fleet HQ. But still, Rivers felt something just wasn't right with his new executive officer. Maybe we just need to sit down together, talk things out, and clear the air once and for all? thought Rivers. After we're in FTL. Don't rock the boat now, Rivers!

  O'Reilly began to call out their course, speed, and the status of the ship's systems. While she spoke, R
ivers scanned the various displays around the bridge. Still green! We are GO for FTL insertion in just over three hours. Rivers responded, "Thank you, XO! I think I'll go to my ready room and work on some reports for now. Carry on!" He strode over to the starboard side of the bridge and stepped through the doorway into the office he used when he needed to remain near the bridge.

  The ready room measured roughly 30 feet by 20 feet. It held a desk and chair, a couch, coffee table, and a side bar. Three other chairs were available along one wall and three more were hidden behind a panel at the aft end of the room. A small restroom was located next to the storage closet.

  Rivers drew a cup of coffee from the sideboard dispenser before sitting down at his desk. He activated the holographic display built into the desk and checked his e-mail first. His electronic mailbox was filled with the usual well wishes from family and friends. He quickly wrote a short response to each and moved onto the next item of business. He called down to Ship's Stores to order a set of lieutenant bars to be sent to his office first thing in the morning. Must be ready to give them to Gene Barkley at dinner tomorrow night!

  He scanned the usual post-launch reports from his department heads. Need to send a report to Fleet Cargo before we're out of comm range and tell them to double check the hatch locks on their cargo containers prior to...and after...loading them aboard a ship. Mike Shelton would contact them as well but Rivers message might rattle enough cages to get Fleet Cargo to be more cautious.

  Rivers refilled his coffee cup then sat quietly for a few minutes, lost in thought. Finally, he pulled up Commander Meaghan O'Reilly's personnel file on his computer. He read through it carefully. She had firewall 'Outstanding' ratings from all of her prior supervising officers as well as numerous awards and decorations. Rivers noted that she had been promoted in advance of all of her classmates from the Fleet Academy.