Charlotte has been busy all day...a couple of personnel with minor injuries requiring treatment, final preparations on her dress, the meal, the cake, and so on. She's done a great job of preparing for the wedding. I am one very lucky man!
As they had many times before, each department head met Captain Rivers as he reached the primary entrance to his or her particular domain. The walk had gone amazing well, until Rivers reached the Security Offices on Deck 4. Commander Bradley was standing sternly at the hatch, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest.
"Why the sour face, Mac?" Rivers asked.
Bradley snapped upright but kept his arms crossed. A sure fire sign he's thoroughly pissed off, thought Rivers. "I just locked up two more of our new crewmembers for doing something incredibly stupid. Crewmen Holcroft and Shields showed up for duty drunk...then they decided to try to beat the crap out of another crewmember...Joe Jenkins"
Rivers winced. Cargo Specialist Joseph J. Jenkins was a member of the cargo crew and his duties were physically demanding. At 5 feet 8 inches tall, Jenkins was a very imposing figure but the man was in excellent physical condition. He also held black belts in karate, judo, and several more exotic martial arts. Jenkins was friendly, very spiritual, a teetotaler, and an easy target to those who felt his quiet manner was in some way an insult to them.
The captain looked at his security chief and asked, "What happened?"
Bradley replied, "Joe was walking over to a wall-mounted comm unit to call Mike Shelton and report them when they jumped him."
"Joe didn't hurt them too badly, did he?"
Bradley chuckled, "Naw, just gave them each a full set of lumps. They're in holding cells under guard while getting a once over from the medics. Then it's into the brig for them. Joe is in my office filling out a report." Rivers nodded his head in the direction of Bradley's office and the two officers headed in that direction.
"Hey Joe," said Rivers as he entered the room. "How ya doing?"
"Howdy, Captain!" replied the cargo worker rising from his chair. "I'm good, didn't even break a sweat. Hope I didn't hurt either one of those two fellows. I tried to warn them to let me be."
Rivers smiled and clapped Jenkins on the shoulder. "Mac seems to think they'll live. Maybe now they'll learn to behave themselves. Thanks for exercising your usual restraint. Now, I think I'll go talk to the two problem children. Take 'er easy, Joe!" Jenkins sat back down to finish his report.
Bradley led the captain down the hall to the holding cells. They arrived in time to see a security specialist escort two medics from the room. To answer the captain's questioning look, one medic said, "Some minor lacerations and contusions; nothing major, sir." Rivers nodded his thanks and followed Bradley into the room.
Holcroft and Shields sat on one of the benches mounted to a wall. Neither rose when the two officers entered the room. The one security specialist still in the room stepped over and barked, "Get to your feet when an officer enters the room! NOW!" Holcraft and Shields tried to get to their feet with limited success. The security specialist gripped each man's upper arm and pulled them upright.
Captain Rivers stepped in front of the two drunken attackers. He leaned towards them, his face dark and angry. "I don't care who you think you are or what you think you are entitled to. I don't care where you served before coming aboard the Conestoga. Listen to me very carefully now: I will NOT tolerate such behavior on my ship! Reporting for duty under the influence is bad enough, but attacking another crewmember is totally unacceptable."
Shields started to say something, but Rivers would have none of it. "Keep your drunken mouth shut! When I want to hear from you, I'll let you know. You will be taken to other cells as soon as I leave. Tomorrow morning, when I should be starting a short honeymoon, I will instead be meeting with the ship's Judge Advocate General, then I'll be holding a Captain's Mast to deal with you two. And I guaran-damn-tee that I will NOT be in a good mood! Commander Bradley, lock them up!"
Bradley waved the second security specialist back into the room then briefed both guards. "Put 'em in separate cells. Keep an eye on 'em." The guards nodded and, each taking a man by the arm, led them away.
"Sorry this had to happen today, Skipper," Bradley said.
Rivers responded, "Mac, I'm sorry this had to happen at all aboard the Connie! We have a damn good ship and we've been fortunate enough to have damn good crewmembers before. But this latest bunch...my God, what a mess!"
"We'll get them in line, James," Bradley replied. "Whether they want to or not!"
"Any news on the Delacroixs or Finches?" asked Rivers, marginally changing the subject.
Bradley shrugged. "Jean-Pierre and Angelique continue to be on their best behavior. Carlotta Finch still hasn't filed a report against her husband and seems to be considering a reconciliation."
Rivers shook his head and let his shoulders drop in frustration. "Classic behavior in cases of spousal abuse...the victim returns to the abuser. If she doesn't press charges and we have no witnesses, there's not much we can do...other than to monitor the situation. Any other problems I need to be made aware of?"
Bradley nodded then replied, "Yes...two teenagers, a boy and a girl, tried to enter the primary reactor area. One of the little geniuses had a digital lock scanner and was caught trying to bypass the security codes. They're in the brig, I've talked to their parents, and they said to let them sit there awhile. They'd be down for them in the morning. Practicing 'tough love', I guess, and trying to put a scare into them."
"Where the hell did a kid get a DLS?" asked Rivers.
Bradley grimaced. "They're not telling us, Skipper."
"Lock it up! And do not give it back under any circumstances," said Rivers massaging the bridge of his nose with the fingers of one hand. "If the parents complain, lock them up, too!"
Bradley cast a concerned gaze in his friend's direction. "Come on, James, relax! Don't let it get to you. Especially today of all days! Think of what you have to look forward to this evening." Bradley wiggled his eyebrows up and down like a certain famous, old time comedian.
Rivers nodded and responded, "Yeah, yeah. I know. I'll be okay. Look, get with the JAG, set up a Captain's Mast for 11:00 hours tomorrow. Have the briefs on everyone currently in the brig to my private office by 10:00. I'm gonna lay down the law...HARD!" With that, Rivers straightened up, clapped Bradley on the shoulder, and strode from the room.
Not long after, Rivers stepped into Main Engineering looking for Commander Pat Deckard. The fact that Deckard was not waiting at the main hatch like usual caused Rivers some concern. One of Deckard's engineers saw the captain and stepped over to talk with the senior officer.
"Hi Steve," Rivers said to Lieutenant Commander Steve Ashley. "Where's your boss?"
"Howdy, Skipper!" Ashley said politely. He jerked a thumb over his right shoulder. "The Chief is back in Maintenance Corridor 17. We've discovered some damaged wiring and he and a team are investigating what happened."
Rivers stiffened at the announcement. "How bad?"
"Oh, not that bad, sir!" Ashley replied. "It knocked some lights out on Decks 19 and 20. We should have the damaged wiring replaced shortly."
Deckard chose that moment to step into Main Engineering from a maintenance hatch to one side of the vast room. Spying the captain, he walked over, wiping his hands on a towel. "Sorry, I wasn't here when you arrived, Captain; a little trouble down in one of the maintenance corridors."
Rivers said, "So Steve was telling me. Any idea of the cause of the damage?"
Deckard shook his head, "No, Captain, not yet. I'll let you know as soon as I do."
"Any other problems, Pat?" Rivers asked.
"Yessir!" said Deckard. "Those damn kids are getting into places they have no business being in. It's becoming rather bothersome!"
Rivers nodded his head. "I plan to make a very strong statement regarding that tomorrow at a special Captain's Mast."
"But Captain, tomorrow your honeymoon starts!" Deckard protested.
"Yes, it does! But there are some serious problems building aboard this vessel that need to be nipped in the bud before things get any worse." Rivers responded. "I may not win any friends tomorrow...but I'm captain of this vessel and I'm not here to be anyone's friend! I will have discipline on this ship."
After a quick walk through of Main Engineering, Rivers returned to the bridge. Back in his command chair, he completed an assessment of the ship's status before going to his ready room to work through some paperwork. The tension headache that had been building all morning had reached the point that it required some relief.
"Med Center, this is the Captain," he said into the intercom built into his desk.
"This is Med Center, Dr. Lewis. How may I help you, Captain?" Doctor Michelle Lewis responded over the intercom.
"Dr. Lewis, I have a tension headache that threatens to ruin my afternoon and thus...my evening. Could you prescribe something for me, please?" replied Rivers.
"I'll be right there, sir! If I may suggest, dim the lights in your ready room and lay down. See you soon!"
Rivers contacted the bridge's duty officer to alert him of Dr. Lewis' impending arrival. Then he ordered the computer to dim the lights in the ready room and proceeded to stretch out on his couch. A few minutes later, the door chime sounded announcing the doctor's arrival.
Using his command implant, Rivers told the ship's computer to open the door to the room. Dr. Michelle Lewis entered the room. "Hello, Captain. I have an injection that should ease that headache for you." She walked almost silently across the room to the couch and knelt down next to the captain. She placed the injector port against his neck just above his uniform collar and pressed the injection button. The device forced the medication painlessly through the captain's skin and into his bloodstream.
"Just lie still for about half an hour, keep your eyes closed, and you should be fine, Captain," Dr. Lewis said softly. "The medicine should relieve the headache without making you drowsy. We wouldn't want you to fall asleep and miss your own wedding ceremony!" She patted his shoulder, rose, and left the room.
Twenty five minutes later, Captain Rivers felt like a new man. He brought the lights up slowly and felt no reaction to the increasing brightness. He went over to the refreshment center along one wall and poured a tall class of cold water before returning to his desk. After another half hour, he finished his reports and was ready to return to the bridge.
Rivers stepped out onto the bridge and then over to the command console without assuming command. The duty officer, Lieutenant Command Raphael Ramos, remained seated. He knew Rivers would announce his assumption of command, if he wanted to. After scanning the bridge consoles, Rivers turned to Ramos. "Rafe, it seems I have a wedding to prepare for. The bridge is yours!" Rivers left the bridge to a chorus of "Good Luck" and other well wishes.
Several minutes later, Rivers entered the quarters of Commander McLelland E. Bradley, security chief and best man. Knowing that Charlotte Hanson would need her quarters to prepare for the wedding and that the groom shouldn't see the wedding dress before the ceremony, Bradley had offered his quarters to the captain as a dressing room.
Earlier in that shift, Rivers had left his dress uniform, boots, ceremonial sword, and other accoutrements in Bradley's living room. Grabbing his shaving kit, fresh under clothing, and a towel, Rivers stepped into the bathroom. He drew his razer slowly and carefully across his face and neck to avoid any nicks or cuts. Wouldn't want any blood dripping onto my ceremonial white tunic! he thought. Freshly shaved, he showered; the hot water working wonders on his tense muscles.
He was struggling with tying his bowtie for the third time when Bradley entered the quarters. The security chief stepped over to help the captain with his predicament. "I can't believe you graduated at the top of your class with honors in astrometrics, navigation, and command and still can't tie a bowtie worth a damn!" Bradley said with just the right amount of humor in his voice.
"Well you were there to help me with that at the academy! And Charlotte has double checked it in recent years. But she's a just a bit busy now," Rivers countered.
Bradley smiled then took a step back to examine the bowtie he'd just adjusted. "Yes! And there, it's perfect. Now don't fiddle with it!" With that, Bradley ducked into the bathroom to prepare himself. He re-entered the room twenty minutes later decked out in his dress uniform. "Are you sure you want the ceremonial swords?" he asked his captain, concern now evident in his voice.
"It is traditional," said Rivers. "Just be careful drawing it so you don't cut anyone!" The two old friends chuckled at the memory of a day many years in the past. During a mutual friend's wedding ceremony, Bradley had drawn his sword and accidently sliced the uniform sleeve of the officer to his left. No blood had been spilled that day, but Bradley was more than mildly embarrassed by the incident.
Rivers and Bradley checked their uniforms and sword belts once more before leaving Bradley's quarters. Rivers reached up to fiddle with his tie but stopped when Bradley gave him a sharp glance. As they walked toward the massive dining hall, Rivers looked at his friend and asked, "Still got the ring, right?"
Bradley reached his right hand into the lower right pocket of his tunic to touch the ring. "Yep, still there!" With a chuckle, the friends continued on to a side entrance that led into the dining hall. This entrance had been reserved for members of the wedding party. Two of Bradley's security specialists were standing guard outside the door. One of them touched her communicator ear bud and whispered softly into the microphone disguised as a Fleet insignia on her collar.
"Just a moment, sirs," she said to the captain and her section chief. "The bridal party just arrived and is being moved into one of the side rooms." Rivers and Bradley nodded and stepped back. The two made a big show of acting nonchalant, looking everywhere except at the door, and whistling softly off key. The guards played their parts well, acting totally indifferent to the behavior of their senior officers. Soon, the female guard whispered something into her microphone then turned to Rivers and Bradley. "Sirs, you are cleared to the Captain's Mess. Please avoid attempting access to any other room at this time. We can't have a security breach at such a critical moment, now can we?" she said with a sly smile. The two senior officers looked at each other, faced the two guards and braced, then saluted the guards! The guards returned the salutes and wished the captain luck!
Once they were safely ensconced in the Captain's Mess, Bradley made his way over to the side bar and pulled a bottle of water from the small refrigerator located there. He held it aloft to Rivers, who shook his head no. Rivers began to pace the room, much to Bradley's surprise. He'd seen his friend in many tight squeezes and dangerous situations before...but had never seen him nervous enough to pace the floor.
Then he remembered something his father had done at a family wedding many years before. Bradley looked in the side bar cabinets until he found a roll of paper towels. He tore one sheet off the roll and handed it to Rivers. The captain took it automatically, without thinking, and began to twist it back and forth in his hands, his pacing slowing down as he did so. Soon, Rivers discovered he had shredded the paper towel...only to have Bradley hand him another one. This continued for almost a quarter of an hour, stopping only when the chaplain entered the room.
Father Philip Wilkes was dressed in his Terran Fleet ceremonial uniform and ornate denominational shawl. Father Wilkes was the quintessential image of what a ship's chaplain should look and act like. Cool, calm, and collected at all times; friendly; and caring; Father Phil handled services for a wide variety of denominations. Rivers had never heard anyone say anything negative about the chaplain.
Wilkes stepped over and shook the captain's hand, then the security chief's. "What a blessed day, gentlemen! Congratulations, Captain! And thank you for allowing me to conduct the ceremony for you and Charlotte."
"It's our honor, Father," Rivers said sincerely. The sound of the chaplain's voice had a soothing effect upon the nervous groom.
Bradley watched this with an uncommon solemnity. When Wilkes finished, Bradley asked, "What about me, Padre? No prayer to keep me out of trouble?"
Father Wilkes' left eyebrow shot up. "Mr. Bradley," he replied, "I pray for you constantly! But I fear the Good Lord would need to devote an inordinately large amount of His time to such an enormous endeavor!" He finished with a wink and a smile then blessed the commander as well.
A soft rap on the door to the Captain's Mess got their attention. Lieutenant Commander Ainsley Truscott stepped into the room and said, "We're just about ready, gentlemen. You may take your positions whenever you are ready!" Bradley moved over to the door and waved Rivers, Wilkes, and Truscott through. "After you," he said cheerily.
Chaplain Wilkes stepped up to the dais and took his place, looking out at the large congregation of crew and passengers in the hall. Commander Meaghan O'Reilly and Doctor Celeste Cahill, the Assistant Chief Medical Officer, were already in position to service as maid of honor and bridesmaid respectively. Captain James Rivers and his best man took their places, as well. Rivers reached up and fidgeted with his collar, which caused his bowtie to tilt slightly. Bradley feigned total exasperation with his friend then promptly straightened the tie once more.
Rivers looked around the dining hall. It had been draped in festive displays accented with beautiful flowers, both real and artificial. The hall was full of people, off-duty personnel and passengers eager to witness the captain and doctor's nuptials. Soft music filled the room and muted the sound of conversations among the attendees.
Father Wilkes looked over at the captain, silently asking if he was ready. At the captain's nod, the chaplain nodded to Truscott who was standing to one side of the room. Truscott whispered into the microphone hidden in her Fleet collar insignia and the music faded to silence. The guests quieted and turned toward the dais at front of the room. The Bridal March began to play softly throughout the hall. Everyone rose and all eyes turned to an open doorway opposite the dais.
Death Haunts the Stars Page 5
