Unwrapping Miss Milky Way

by Candace Sams

  Since these were the odd facts of the situation, she had to weigh her choice accordingly. She only had eighteen months of life and didn’t want to spend those days fighting criminal charges.

  Really, she couldn’t find one reason to consider such an insane scheme. What could be gained from stowing away on a test flight?

  Then again, the only reason she’d ever considered such a thing was the captain and his odd behavior.

  His story concerning Electra Galaxy’s presence might have fooled someone else, but not her. Any number of Oceanus dignitaries could have been asked to vet the accommodations. Electra was a male beauty pageant diva. What could the woman possibly bring to the table in the way of shuttle expertise?

  In fairness, Electra was probably an expert in etiquette, style, and class. She must have stayed in some of the finest accommodations in ten sectors of space. But Electra’s presence made less sense given the way the Valkyrian had lied, and badly to boot.

  In the short time she’d known Datron Mann he had the habit of glancing away when he spoke on some uncomfortable subject. At all other times, he always looked her squarely in the eyes. She had only one other example in life with which to compare his actions.

  When speaking to doctors or nurses about her health they’d done the very same thing when they didn’t want to tell her that her condition had worsened. She’d first seen that cagey, averted look at the age of twelve.

  Honest people―the good ones―never lied well. That took practice and Datron Mann just didn’t have it down. While this spoke well of his integrity and made her care for him even more than she should, the evidence for his fabrication was clearly present. Indeed, the whole crew spoke of nothing at all, which was more suspicious since they should have been benignly commenting on which living space each would secure, what the food packets would or wouldn’t consist of, and what the cleansing facilities looked like. These same kinds of innocuous conversations had been engaged on numerous occasions, when readying craft for other test crews. Clitus, Gilla, and Electra were oddly silent on these subjects. It was as though they had their minds on something else; something bigger.

  Charlie kept working all the same. As she found more to do, the hours flew by. Gradually, one system after another began to respond to her careful tending.

  An announcement delivered over the shuttle’s old-fashioned PA system came in a familiar, baritone Valkyrian voice. She couldn’t help smiling when she heard him.

  “All right everyone…take a break,” Datron ordered. “I’ll have hot food delivered to the airfield gate. While we eat, I’ll want a detailed report on all systems and where we stand. We have ten hours.”

  Charlie knew he meant for her to stop as well but kept working anyhow. By the time he got to the front gate and back, she’d finished testing the fuel ratio in the Hyperion’s engine mixer. It was one percent away from being perfect. Outside of life support, this was the most critical of all the systems. If trouble arose, they could issue a general call for help on an emergency broadcast frequency built into all ships’ bridge consoles. This could be done even if communications went down. But they couldn’t get home without a working engine. At least not without a tow, and that could be a long time coming—depending upon where the vessel was headed. In regards to this, two more things struck her as odd.

  First, why not have fresh food delivered to the hangar? Guards would surely bring it from the gate on a captain’s orders. That would save Datron a trip, and the Hyperion’s crew could keep working. Indeed, this luncheon ritual was routinely performed for supervisory staff on Earth airfields, especially when schedules were tight. She couldn’t imagine such details would differ that much from one planet to another.

  While it might be a minor point to some, it just didn’t seem right to her. It was magnanimous for Datron to offer but fetching food was generally a task considered beneath a supervisor of his rank. Wing man didn’t seem the least put out with the menial chore—to his credit. Or did he not want anyone else in the hangar. This assumption led to her second concern.

  Datron had closed the massive hangar doors before they started overhauling the vessel. No one flying, shuttling, or strolling by could see what Charlie and the crew were doing or if anyone was in the structure at all. This wasn’t normal as far as her experience went.

  Why all the secrecy concerning a simple shuttle repair job? She simultaneously dwelt on all the suspicious issues while making the final adjustments to the fuel mixer. The fuel check she ran was almost the same procedure Datron’s crew followed aboard the Valiant. She prided herself on being quicker and more efficient with her time than the mostly male crew of the much larger starfighter.

  Once the task was finished, she made her way from the interior of the ship to a hatch that opened to the outside. The service entrance, not meant as an ordinary passenger exit, contained a small opening. It was still big enough for her to use as a departure port.

  She gazed around and found herself looking at the hangar floor—twenty feet straight down to the hard surface below.

  Shrugging off concerns over the distance, she tucked her head and rolled through the three-foot opening, then grabbed the hatch edges with her gloved hands. The edges would keep her from falling.

  Charlie had pulled this acrobatic exodus before. It was an easy and quick way to get out of the ship without finding an outer gangway. Almost all engineers did it at one time or another, depending on the distance to the ground and the part of the ship they worked on.

  “Hey…engineer coming down!” she yelled as she gripped the edge of the hatch above and behind her head.

  Clitus loped toward her location. “Hang on, Charlotte. I’ll be right there.”

  She grinned down at him as he maneuvered his massive body beneath hers. “Just call me Charlie…and catch me on three.”

  She waited until Clitus positioned himself, held his arms out, and smilingly nodded upward.

  “Okay. Here I come. One…two…three…”

  “You’re such a mighty-mite!” Clitus laughingly roared after easily catching her in his arms. He then spun her around and hugged her against his frame before putting her on the ground. “I’ve seen you get into spaces on this old ship that a Korellian sand flea couldn’t access.”

  “Indeed,” Gilla joyfully agreed, “it certainly helps move repairs along when one is petite and can easily fit between a false bulkhead and the outer skin of the ship.”

  Electra put her hands to her face and shook her head. “Charlie…don’t ever do anything like that again. I swear to God…you scared ten years off me!”

  “There’s always someone to catch me,” Charlie assured her. Then she put her hands on Clitus’ cheeks and gave him a sisterly kiss.

  He, in turn, took the opportunity to bawdily kiss her back. This act resulted in her merrily pushing against his chest and breaking the contact.

  Laughter ensued and rang through the entire hangar.

  But then her brawny, good-natured catcher suddenly went sober, moved away and straightened his uniform. Electra and Gilla ceased their jovial commentary and solemnly stared in the same direction as Clitus.

  She rolled her eyes heavenward, winced, and slowly turned around.

  The fun and camaraderie of the moment was thoroughly quashed by the utter fury in Datron’s face.

  He stood there with his mighty wings ruffled, his dark gaze so riveting she felt certain he’d melt a hole through the Hyperion’s hull.

  Big as the walls of a mythical castle and just as sturdy and unapproachable, he extended his wings fully. It was meant to be what it was, a charged exhibition of impatience and humorless sobriety. The man’s jaw was set, and his full lips turned downward in a way she’d never seen.

  He slowly lifted one hand and crooked his finger at her.

  “Come with me,” he softly but adamantly uttered, then turned and marched away.

  Clearly, he expected her to follow.

  ****

  When he was far enough to up
braid his little mischief-maker and not be heard, Datron turned around and faced her with anger born of pure fear and jealousy.

  It was actually less concerning that he’d seen her in another man’s arms, kissing him. The embrace wasn’t Clitus’ fault. She’d forced the situation by jumping from a distance that could have killed a much larger man, never mind a little ‘mighty-mite’, as Clitus called her.

  And that was what really had his pouch in a bunch.

  Even in his panic over the chance he’d seen her take, his body responded to her in ways it never should. Certainly not when he was on duty and a mission loomed.

  “What, by the bloody swords of Kobar, did you think you were doing?” he furiously asked. “I hired you as a professional and this is how you act?”

  Charlie lifted her chin and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare question my professionalism, wing man! Your damned ship is repaired ahead of schedule and using spare parts from the hangar bins. And I’ve done it in half the time my contract allowed, even adding on some extras. All that’s left is to run final checks on the electrical and life support systems and I can assure you…they’ll be in top order. That’s assuming you refueled the tanks the right way.”

  “Why you little…” He moved closer but locked his hands by his sides to keep from grabbing her. “If you want to break your neck that’s your business. But don’t do it here. Not in this hangar and not while engaging my crew in your unsafe nonsense.”

  “Nonsense?” She gasped and put her hands on her hips. “I was trying to lighten things up. Your crew is walking around as if this test flight is one last mission to hell. And while I’m bitching…since when does a captain refuel his own vessel? Where are the crews to load your personal gear and the supplies, and where are the personnel needed to sanitize the ship before you take off?” She gazed up at him in outrage, then lifted one finger and stuck it directly under his nose. “If Electra is vetting the vessel for dignitaries, I’d think you’d want every surface scrubbed and polished. And though I’d like to say a few more words a lady shouldn’t use, why are the hangar doors closed, and why is the simple test flight of an interstellar shuttle so damned important that all these normal procedures are overlooked? Finally, why am I not going with you?”

  Confronted by so many questions he couldn’t answer, questions this perceptive mastermind delivered with all the right due an engineer and mechanic, he either had to let the subject go or respond in some way she’d accept.

  He simply had no answer that would suffice. Where most in her position would take their exorbitant pay and leave without question, the delving curiosity in her lovely blue-green eyes displayed too much insight. He could now see the mistake in hiring Charlie, though the job she’d performed was exceptional by any standards.

  He took several deep breaths and turned his back on the woman rather than stand there, staring down at her. With the perception she’d displayed so far, she’d glean the truth if he couldn’t control himself better. Desire clouded his judgment and admiration fueled his frustration.

  Creator’s blood I want her!

  He took several breaths meant to control his voice if not his ardor.

  “We’ll run a last check on the systems using both the bridge computer and your gauges to compare readings. When we’ve assessed all the equipment is within operational range, you’re dismissed,” he adamantly told her. “You may present your identification to the airfield paymaster for remuneration.”

  With that said, he walked away. He heard her gasp and knew she’d probably just been terminated for the first time in her life. And none of her questions had been answered.

  There was nothing else he could do. He’d already stepped over professional lines where his feelings and obedience to uniform codes were concerned. Never in his life had he displayed such a loss of temper, and he’d done it while members of his crew and Electra Galaxy watched.

  He knew walking away from her was in the best interests of the mission. He needed to get Charlie clear of the hangar as soon as possible. Even if that meant she must go before takeoff.

  But a spot in his heart―a soft place growing exponentially where she was concerned―made him falter and stop.

  After only striding a dozen yards, he slowly turned back and gazed at her for a long moment. The look of utter shock in her gaze undid him. If it came down to her or his job—his future or a uniform—Charlie would always come first. She owned him and had from almost the first time he’d seen her.

  “Charlie…forgive me. I overreacted and it’s not like me. But I have orders. Don’t ask me anything else…please. I-I’ll make this up to you when I return. I promise!”

  She slowly walked up to him and did the one thing he never expected.

  “Too late wing man. The order was given. I’ll finish up and you can test-fire the engines without me.”

  “Don’t do this,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean…you don’t understand, and I can’t explain right now.” He held out his hands, palms up. When she took several steps backward a virtual knife sliced through his gut.

  Her eyes went cold.

  His mouth suddenly went dry, and his hands shook.

  “I won’t forget you,” she softly uttered. “The next man will thank you for breaking me in.”

  She turned and walked into the Hyperion.

  His heart shattered.

  Chapter Twelve

  From that point on, Charlie embodied professionalism. She tested and re-checked systems until they were perfect and finally inspected the hull for any signs of stress. She accomplished this by mounting a small anti-gravity platform that allowed her to hover around the craft vertically and horizontally while safety rails and a harness held her securely. Datron would have no excuse to reprimand her a second time. Perfectionism aided the plan she’d devised. Being so thorough gave her an excuse to hang around until the crew was distracted.

  “Hey…mighty-mite! What’re you doing up there?” Clitus yelled. “I checked the hull before we began repairs. We’ll re-enter our atmosphere safe enough.”

  “Yeah, but I’m the one who signs off on everything. No offense, Clitus, but I have to say I did it,” she amiably answered. “I’ve got a rep to protect.”

  Clitus simply grinned and walked away.

  Electra and Gilla waved up at her, and Charlie happily returned the gesture before going back to her charade. There was nothing wrong with the damn hull as they were all aware. The rest of the crew couldn’t have missed the exchange in the hangar when Datron upbraided her. Let them think she was delaying her departure for any reason, even for the sake of making up with the man.

  Besides, looking over the entire hull allowed her time to refine her plot without anyone suspecting.

  The key to her success counted on the four crew members being too busy to scan what was being done outside the ship. What she planned could land her in serious legal circumstances, but now Charlie had a reason to consider incarceration.

  She feared Datron and her newfound friends were about to embark on something that would put them in jeopardy. Datron’s over-the-top anger one moment, then his sincere apologies the next, had given them all away. Aside from that, she’d also been witness to too many flight variants that didn’t add up.

  Something told her what she was doing was right. She’d never been betrayed by these instincts. Following intuition now, when someone she cared for was involved, seemed imperative. And she did still care for Datron. He just had to think otherwise.

  While still hovering high and away from prying eyes, she used her holographic pad to bring up the ship’s interior design. There’d been no reason to actually crawl around certain spaces since they weren’t damaged. But to use them as she must, she needed to memorize information. This was the time when someone could catch her. The schematic holo-search was visible to anyone who cared to look up at her.

  She scanned the information quickly, committed it to memory and uttered a soft prayer she wouldn’t forget a single fac
t.

  All ships had air ducts that connected throughout the entire vessel. Now, she needed to ascertain their size in comparison to hers, and decide which would be the best for her entrance.

  Without any more excuses as to why she kept examining things that had already been checked, she landed the platform.

  She looked to her right and saw Electra, Gilla, and Clitus loading the last of the supplies in the cargo hold. Then Datron approached and she shot him a professional nod, as she would any total stranger.

  “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked.

  He mustn’t suspect anything. Datron had to think she was still furious with him and intended to walk out of this hangar as soon as she finished—just as ordered. In truth, she was pissed but not so much for the way he acted as for the lies he kept feeding her. She believed she’d earned more trust than that.

  “You haven’t spoken to me since we ate lunch,” he murmured. He moved closer and held out his arms. “Please, Charlie. I said I was sorry and I meant it. Damn the uniform codes about displays of affection! Let me hug you. I just want to hold you again. I want to see you when I get back.”

  “May I ask one question?”

  “Anything,” he obliged while still holding his arms out as an invitation to embrace.

  “Why am I not going with you?”

  “Can’t do it, baby. And I can’t talk about it right now. Please understand.”

  That was the most honest thing she’d heard so far. The expression on his face was one of deep regret. Something was bothering him terribly. His behavior all morning was at odds with his candid words of the moment.

  She did the only thing she could to appease him. She walked into his embrace and held on tight.

  “I’ll be here when you get back. In fact, I’ll be closer than you think. I won’t stop thinking about you, Datron,” she softly offered.