“I.P.F 1119036 Call name: Black Viper at your service, Sir.” the sharp salutation began as the connection was made with the requested ship.
The General’s old heart swelled, the sharp, smart, respectful addresses, the unfaltering loyalty, the strict adherence to I.P.A rules of do what you are told, ask no questions; you had to love it.
“I have special orders for you and your ship, Captain.” the calculating man began in his deep booming voice. “A ship launched from here just three days ago, that ship is on route to the Corseccan Galaxy. I wish for you to intercept.”
“Yes, Sir.” the strict young Captain replied as he checked his screens. “I have a ship located answering to that description. The vessel is the I.P.A Vortex, launched three days ago from Saturna 3. Awaiting your orders, General, Sir.”
The weathered face smiled calmly. “I wish for a viper intercept of the Vortex.” he said simply.
“Yes, Sir.” came the obedient reply. “We have a viper strike order for the target. How many pod retrievals?”
“None. This is a full strike order.” his superior said unemotionally.
“Yes, Sir. But…” the young man hesitated, “isn't Captain Fairbanks in command of that vessel, Sir? Are you sure you wish a full destroy?”
“The loss will be regrettable.” the hardened man replied.
“There is to be no record of this order. Black Viper 1110936 will be put under cover on all Military charts until returning to its assigned sector after the mission. All records will show the ship was attacked by an enemy Virrilian vessel outside the war zone.”
“Yes, Sir. Is the General sure Black Viper can handle the kill alone? We heard that ship has a superior weapons system and impenetrable shields.” the I.P.F Officer questioned respectfully.
“One ship will be sufficient. Do not expect the ship to either hail or respond. It will not attempt to return fire.” the General assured him. “These orders are top priority, to be carried out immediately. Report to me on the secure wave when the strike has been completed. That is all.” he finished coldly.
“Yes, General, Sir. We will move to strike right away.” the Captain replied in sharp military fashion.
“End secured wave, delete all trace logs.” the General commanded the screen before him as the video feed from the Viper flashed off.
The man now turned back towards the other screens that still hovered in the air around him.
One last thing to be done.
He called up the screen showing personnel files.
A picture of Captain Fairbanks along with her military record was still displayed on the screen.
“A regrettable, but necessary loss.” he repeated as he added one last detail to her file before flipping unemotionally to the next record.
“Timothy Baine…..the time I spent on that boy. Wasted effort, good riddance.” he muttered as he added one last line to the Pilot’s record.
He moved quickly through the rest of the files, useless space trash most of them.
Worthless fodder, best cleaned out of the gene pool.
He paused again when he got to the last record. Seeing the smiling face of the Virrilian Engineer made his crinkled old face smirk.
Valesque Rhaugh, no longer would she be a threat to him or a hindrance to his plans.
But it was thanks to her that he could get rid of the whole bad lot in one clean sweep; her, that ship and all the failures that had been dragging him down.
Just one last bad mark to add to her record, he thought amusingly to himself as he scrolled down to the bottom of her file to add in the last line, the same as everyone else’s.
‘Killed in action 05 15 2538 in the Corseccan war against the Virrilians. Died with honor.’
Chapter Six: Deadline
Valesque sat in her room attaching a tiny wire onto a gadget she was holding under a magnification glass.
On the table around her were strewn pieces of wiring in various lengths and gauges, miscellaneous screws, clamps and bottles containing various chemicals and lubricants.
She was carefully wrapping the end of a thin gauge wire and tightening down the tiny screw that would hold it in place as her mind wandered over her growing list of concerns.
She was going to need a way of grounding her body to the ship, so she could work with the Space Tripper without any risk of shock to the system or it could trigger the device. But more importantly, she needed a way to tap onto the Space Trippers feeders and leach the power away from the circuits she wanted to disconnect, without the Space Tripper noticing any power fluctuations.
She didn’t have time to draw up plans or test prototypes. She just had to make it up in her head as she went, trusting her intuition and experience to get her by.
The Engineer’s room was actually one of the larger scientific labs on Science Deck 3, two floors below the Med-room. She had set it up as a makeshift apartment and workroom. One small corner of the large open space taken up with a washroom, food duplicator, a tall upright locker to hold the few clothes she had brought with her, a small low-to-the-floor sofa and the brushed silver table and chair she was currently seated at.
Along with these few comforts, she had also brought over from her apartment her entire collection of vintage posters and books, which she always kept near her.
It was modest and a bit sterile looking, but it was only supposed to be temporary as she worked on her projects for the Magellan’s construction.
Not that she planned to move up to a regular room, but she had intended to eventually make half of this extra large lab into comfortable living quarters.
It suited her needs far better than the house plans that made up the regular living quarters on the decks above.
Valesque laid down the object she had been working on so tediously and sat up to stretch her tense, aching shoulders and neck.
She then leaned back in her seat to rest for a moment as she dug out a small square of metal from her hip pouch and placed it on the end of a finger.
The device was something she had designed to help with her constantly growing Virrilian nails. Keeping the talons on the ends of her fingers neatly squared off was a constant job.
The small metal device used a kind of laser to trim and shape her tough nails into a smooth short manicure. It was a little hot to the touch but it got the job done and was easy to use. Now she had gotten into the habit of pulling it out and placing it on her fingers whenever she was deep in thought over something.
As she moved the small square of silver from one finger to the next she contemplated what else her latest device would need in order to work on the Space Tripper.
As she was thus absorbed, the chime to her door sounded and she came back to her senses just as two guests entered the room.
The first through the automatic door was Sanic, who seemed to smile in relief upon seeing her, followed closely by the ever-calm jockey Pilot, who just gave her his usual smooth smile as he entered the room.
“Sorry about just walking in on you.” Sanic immediately apologized. “But I can’t tell you how many rooms we have tried already. We thought we would never find you.” he said, excusing their bad manners.
“The ship crew list had you down for Beta Deck 2. But we didn’t get any answer there and it looked pretty empty. Then I remembered you had mentioned going down to your lab earlier, so we started checking the Science levels.
I guess you had turned off your communicator during your dinner break, so the computer couldn’t locate you by that.” he finished, a little embarrassed as he realized the last part almost sounded like a reprimand.
“Ah, yeah.” the Engineer acknowledged unfazed as she absently put her nail trimmer back in her pouch and produced her disengaged communication device. “I'm not used to wearing them, so I find it a bit uncomfortable to have it in my ear all the time.” she commented as she held the device briefly, with no sign of intent on wearing it again, before dropping it back into her hip pouch.
Her visitor then tu
rned his attention to her worktable, noticing the components and the half-finished device that was lying discarded under the adjustable magnifier.
“Working on a way to get the engine output back up for the Captain?” he stated more than asked as he surveyed the scene. Calculating in his engineering oriented brain the possible uses for the device he was seeing.
Valesque affirmed his assumption, but Sanic somehow doubted that device was going to be used for that particular problem, but did not say anything further.
Instead, he turned his attention to something else on the table.
“I see we caught you in the middle of dinner.” he said apologetically as he caught sight of the half-finished meal that sat on the table before her.
Tim too had just noticed this object and as Sanic apologized for the interruption, Tim could not help but make his own observations.
“That, is the sort of thing you eat?” he asked, a bit put off by the large piece of thick, rare meat that sat abandoned on the table.
It seemed to be just a slab of fresh meat that had been burnt crisp and black on just the very surface, leaving the thick inner meat raw, pulpy and red with liquid juices puddling on the plate around it.
It looked like someone had attempted to cook it by throwing it into a raging fire for a few seconds before taking it out and calling it done.
“It looks like it hasn’t stopped moving yet.” he remarked, eyeing the supposed meal warily.
Valesque cast a quick glance at the half finished dinner she had push to the side as she began working on her projects.
She had forgotten to finish that, now either she would have to have it reheated, which wasn’t as good, or just have it sterilized and reprocessed back into the ship’s liquid food storage containers.
“It's the traditional way to fix a cut of meat on my planet.” she told him simply. “It's quick seared on just the very exterior so it is hot and crisp, but the inside stays raw.” she showed her top fangs as she continued. “We like our meat quite rare.” she smiled. “And we have very high protein metabolisms.” she said with an almost evil grin.
“Ah, but you didn’t finish your dinner, Beautiful.” he scolded, determined not to be intimidated by her penchant for raw meat or her deliberate show of fangs. “We will have to do the space ship entering the hanger.” he said, referring to the way you feed a stubborn child.
“NO.” the alarmed Engineer exclaimed, not trusting him just to be joking. She could see him trying something like that, with how flirtatious he was.
“It isn’t good once it has gotten cold. I will reheat it and finish it later.” she promised, pushing the plate of food in question further out of the teasing Pilot’s reach.
Both men simply chuckled at her amusing reaction and switched their focus onto the room they were occupying, and for the first time noticed the impressive sights it offered.
“Wow!” Sanic exclaimed as he took in not only the size of the room but also the immense projects it housed in the background. “You have been holding out on us! This place is amazing.” he gaped as he gazed intently at the different objects in the distance, guessing at what they could be.
“I’ll say!” Tim agreed wholeheartedly. “Do you have a wallet size of that picture?” he begged as he stared in a totally different direction from Sanic.
What Tim had just noticed was a large poster that hung on the wall behind Valesque, above her small couch.
Tim let out a long impressed whistle. “Now that is one sexy picture. You look good with your hair longer.” he noted as he continued to take in every nuance of the image.
Valesque made a partially puzzled, partially disgusted face as she turned around in her seat to see what exactly the brazen Flyboy was looking at.
On the wall behind her, hanging in an antique gilded frame was a picture of a pale woman with blood-red lips, sitting in a seductive pose on the edge of a Victorian settee.
She was dressed in a dark red, low cut gown with a slit high up one shapely leg. Her wavy black hair was piled on top of her head with long loose tendrils falling down her shoulders and around her face.
Her expression was a mixture of amusement and invitation, the tips of her four fangs showing as she enticed you to come near.
“Mmmmm, yes,” Tim continued appreciatively, “I could do with some duplicates of that.”
The young Virrilian woman turned back and looked at him incredulously.
“You don’t honestly think that's me?” she said finally. “Did you somehow miss the title on the picture?” she asked as if he were stupid, pointing over her shoulder at the framed image behind her.
Tim glanced over the image again, and then leaned slightly to the right to get a clear view of the bottom of the poster that was behind Valesque’s head. Down at the bottom in half worn lettering were the words:
'Vamp-Iress, Queen of the night'
“It is an antique Earthian movie poster.” she informed him as his expression changed, indicating he had finally read the title on the picture.
“Vamp-Iress, eh?” the jockey Pilot mused. “I hope you never try to bite me.” he chuckled, remembering the similar old movies he had seen once in a run down Old New York Theater.
Tim’s expression changed upon this remembrance as he gradually realized why Valesque’s appearance had seemed so exceptional to him.
He had finally placed it, that strange allure she exuded; she resembled the unearthly beauty of the creatures in the Vampire films!
Valesque groaned, “You can rest assured, Yorkie, that I would never bite you.” she proclaimed in such a way as to make Tim think perhaps he wanted to be bitten after all.
“My great-grandmother was the model for a lot of the old Earthian pictures like that.” she went on. “I have a whole collection of ‘Vamp-Iress’ stuff, posters and books and things like that. Whatever had her image on it.” she explained tersely, still astounded that he had assumed it was a picture of her.
“Nope.” the flirtatious Pilot disagreed, shaking his head and leaning back on his right leg with one hand on his chin as he studied the picture, looking something like an art critic as he continued his appraisal. “It still looks like you, Beautiful.”
“He’s right.” Sanic agreed, sorry to contradict her. “It may be that your grandmother posed for it, but she looks exactly like you….well, except for the hairstyle….and…pose.” he added with an embarrassed blush as he imagined the real Valesque in such a way.
“Whatever.” Valesque conceded, slightly irritated. “But it still isn’t me. And can you quit looking at it like that?” she angrily requested as Tim continued his appreciative stare.
“Of course,” he smiled easily, “after all why do I need the copy when I have the original right here?” he said, starting in again as he placed one hand on the back of Valesque’s chair and leaned over her.
“I told you, I am not the original.” she reminded him as she backed away.
Tim smiled satisfactorily down at her, as she tried to look unaffected while cringing away from him and avoiding eye contact.
“Anyway.” he began suddenly, changing the subject and giving her relief.
“The Captain sent us down here to ask you what you needed us to do in order to get the shield and weapons systems online.” he said in a completely changed tone as he straightened back up and looked seriously about the room.
“W…Well,” Valesque faltered, still dizzy from the sudden change in conversation, “if you want to work on getting the remaining shields up, be my guest.” she offered. “You see those two huge drums over there?” she asked, gesturing across the room. “Those are the two main emitters, they need to be completed. The plans are tacked up on the wall.”
The drums she pointed out were on the opposite side of the room from where they stood, and even at that distance they were quite imposing. The huge barrel shaped objects were at least 5 feet in height and 7 feet in diameter, composed on the outside of smooth polished metal they looked almost like the ca
sings for a jet engine.
Space Trippers Book 1: Trippin' Page 12
