Stryyk held up his hand and said, “Guilty as charged. Though, in my defense, I don’t remember it either… unfortunately. The aspect of you being an exhibitionist is really a turn-on!”
“Oh shut up!” she snapped playfully. “So how do we get out of here?”
“You have to post bail,” he said.
“Which is?” Stryyk asked.
“Two hundred,” the cop said, with a very serious look on his face.
Stryyk laughed, thinking the cop was feigning a serious look, “Hell, I’ve got that in my wallet right now. Come here, let’s settle up.”
“No, sir,” the cop said, not budging. “You misunderstand. It’s two hundred thousand credits.”
“What?” Char squeaked. “That’s absurd! It was public drunkenness at the very the most!”
“No, ma’am,” he said, pulling out a micro-comp. “One count of public intoxication, two counts public indecency, class two vandalism—”
“Class two?” Char interrupted.
“Well, yeah, the bar was a total loss.”
“We don’t have that!” Char exclaimed.
“Well, you should’ve thought about that before you started a fight that destroyed a business!” the cop countered.
“Do we at least get breakfast?” Stryyk asked.
That evening, after two filling meals, which was more food than they’d eaten in a week, the next duty officer, who was far less personable, approached their cell.
“Hey, you two,” he called out. “Get up.”
They exchanged tentative looks and rose from the bed. “Something wrong, officer?” Stryyk asked carefully.
“You’re free to go,” he said. “Someone paid you up in full.”
They exchanged bewildered glances and laughed so hard it hurt. “That was a good one!” Stryyk said.
The cop, as stone-faced as ever, unlocked the door to their cell and opened, stepping aside. “No joke,” he said.
“Well,” Char said, clearing her throat and gathering her things, “then we’re off. Come on, Stryyk let’s go thank our secret benefactor, shall we?”
“Uh… yeah,” Stryyk said. “I suppose so.”
Another officer led them out to the main lobby of the police station where they were greeted by a woman they had never seen before. She was tall, at just under six feet in height—Stryyk stared straight into her chin—and wore a knee-length, pressed and pleated, black skirt, and a purple blouse under a black business jacket. Her features were soft and subtle, with pale green eyes, a pert, slightly upturned nose, and flawless skin. Her black-brown hair was pulled back into a bun.
“Hello,” she said, extending her perfectly-manicured hand.
“Uh—hi,” Stryyk said, meeting her hand with a firm grip. “Thanks for the help back there, but—”
“Why did I do that?” she finished his question.
“Yeah,” Stryyk said.
“I represent someone who heard about your antics aboard the Under the Radar and thought that you were perfect for the job.”
“Uh,” Stryyk stammered, taken aback by both what she said, and by her beauty. “Thanks?”
“It’s okay,” she said, breaking a genuine smile.
“I know I look all business, but I assure you, I hate dressing like this. Let me buy you two dinner while I give you my spiel.”
“Sounds good to me,” Stryyk said. “Char?”
“I’m down for three free meals in a day, what the hell,” she said with a shrug.
“Excellent,” she said.
“My name is Lyyn’Dah Lyydraal.”
“Stryyk’Draal Stryyn,” he said, jabbing a thumb at himself. “This is my wife Char’Lyyn Stryyn.”
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you both,” Lyyn said as she led them to a stretched hover car waiting at street level.
They dabbled in some non-committal, small talk as they rode back to their apartment to freshen up, and then to a fancy restaurant that they, even on their previous budget, couldn’t afford go to more than once every couple of months. They were all seated, they all ordered their food, and it was all business from there.
“I represent someone who is looking for crack pilots with a high degree of skill,” she said.
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Stryyk said confidently, leaning back in chair and drooping his arm over the back of the chair.
“From what I’ve heard, I think you’re right,” Lyyn responded.
“So what exactly are we getting ourselves into if we agree to work for you?”
“Well, I’m not at liberty to give you specific details as of yet,” Lyyn said.
“Well that’s mighty suspicious,” Stryyk said, leaning forward in his seat and folding his hands on top of the table.
“Are you aware of the big event coming up in one year?”
“What, the Exodus?” Char asked.
“Yes,” Lyyn replied.
“Of course,” Stryyk said. “Every pilot in galaxy knows about it.”
The Exodus was a government-sponsored event involving thousands of ships in a big push for exploration. There was huge christening ceremony planned, with more pomp and circumstance than when they unveiled the Broadsword-Class dreadnaught prototype six months earlier.
“For all those involved,” Lyyn continued to sweeten the pot, “a paycheck—a steady, government paycheck, no less, signing bonuses from our captain and, for you two, a ship to sail.”
“So why all the dark-cornered meetings?” Stryyk asked.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, there are particular dangers pertaining to interstellar travel, and some of them rear the ugly heads before we even leave Seryys.”
When word would hit the streets of a government-funded ship about leave, it wasn’t uncommon for the gang bangers or other more organized crime members to kill the entire crew and loot the ship. The supplies and equipment those ships carried for long-term exploration would fetch a credit or two on the dark market.
“You’re talking about looters,” Char said.
“Exactly,” Lyyn said. “So for everyone’s protection, only a handful of people will know the name and location of the ship until the day before launch.”
“That doesn’t give us a lot of time to prepare,” Stryyk said.
“Quite the contrary,” Lyyn countered. “You will begin training next week.”
“Training for what?” Char asked. “We’re already skilled pilots.”
“Well, let me look,” Lyyn said, consulting her micro-comp. “Next week is… ah, yes! Combat training.”
“Combat training?” Char asked. “What’ll we need that for?”
“We’ll be traveling deep into the Unknown Regions,” Lyyn said. “There could be enemies out there that aren’t interested in friendly meet-and-greets. They may want to play rough, and every member of the crew will need to know—at the very least—how to defend themselves, both with fire arms and hand-to-hand combat.
“That will go on for several weeks—but will be a continuous thing once we leave—and after that it’s propulsion systems.”
“When do we start?”
“You can start tomorrow,” Lyyn said. “I can meet you at your apartment tomorrow at oh nine hundred hours to take you to the ship—under blindfold, of course—to get aquatinted with her since you’ll be piloting her for the next six years.”
“Six years?”
“Yes,” Lyyn said. “There will be occasional trips back home for shore leave, but you will be spending a majority of your lives for the next six years out exploring the stars. So we would hope that you will consider the ship as home.”
“We need some time to think about this,” Char said.
“Well before you make a decision, the captain wanted me to give these to you.” She handed them each cards. “On these cards is your signing bonus of ten thousand credits each. You are free to spend them however you like. The only stipulation is that you come work for us.”
“Give us a moment,” Char said
as she stood and dragged Stryyk to the lobby outside the restaurant.
“Take your time,” Lyyn said with a genuine smile.
Once out of ear shot, Char said. “Turn her down.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“This is too good to be true!” Char pressed. “No one—and I mean no one—would just give us twenty thousand credits simply for signing up.”
“How do you know that?” Stryyk countered, angrily. “What other motive would they have to dropping these kinds of funds just to play us?”
“How do we know they’re even real?”
“I know a guy who can tell us,” Stryyk said. “He’s a bigwig in one of them fancy, exclusive banks.”
“Can you call him right now?” Char asked.
“Probably. He practically lives at the bank.”
In short order, Stryyk called his old high school buddy, and he was able to confirm that they were indeed legitimate fund cards with the amount that Lyyn stated.
“Well that pokes a big hole your conspiracy theory,” Stryyk said with a cocky, all-knowing look.
“You’re willing to bet your life on it?” Char asked defensively.
“What is your problem?” Stryyk asked.
“This whole thing just gives me a bad feeling,” Char said.
“Look,” Stryys said, putting both hands on her shoulders and looking straight into her beautiful, green eyes. “We’re on the verge of starving, being evicted and losing everything. Maybe, just maybe, this is the universe saying, ‘Okay, you two. You’ve suffered long enough. Time for the Good Fortune Wagon to come full circle.’ Stick it out for two weeks. If you still have a bad vibe after that, I will strongly consider leaving. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said.
They returned to the restaurant and sat down, just as their dinners were being served. They ate in relative silence, mostly just small talk. They did glean that Lyyn was born in Jewel of Oasis, to rich parents who had a taste for adventure and would go out on hunting parties. Jewel of Oasis was a landlocked city in the middle of a desert where two major rivers on Seryys converged. A giant wall was erected about the oasis, and a thriving city for the rich had grown to epic proportions. The harsh conditions outside the city walls provided the best hunting around for rare and dangerous breeds of animals that had adapted to desert life, and were efficient in every sense of the word.
She had no stomach for needlessly killing beautiful, deadly—not to mention endangered—animals, so she went to Seryys City University to study business administration. Though her parents were very disappointed with her chosen profession, they still loved her unconditionally. A year ago, this mysterious captain had recruited her as a recruiter for this mission. She was also in charge of ship administration. She explained that, like the ship and location, the captain’s name was being kept secret until the day before launch, as the ship was named after her captain.
At the end of dinner, Lyyn paid and brought them back to their humble apartment.
“Pay will be automatically deposited into your account weekly at this rate,” she said, handing them individual papers.
Their eyes bulged when they saw their weekly pay, four thousand credits a week, which was four times what either them made a week at their previous jobs.
“Is this for real?” Char asked.
“The government pays very well,” Lyyn replied. “Have a good evening and I will see you tomorrow at oh nine hundred.”
“Sounds good,” Stryyk said.
They exited the car and it pulled away. Once the car was out of sight, the two embraced, jumping for joy and laughing. Their time had come!
“We need to go spend our money!” Stryyk said.
“We need a bigger place!” Char said. “One with a walk-in closet!”
“Though we should probably use this bonus money to pay back The Dive for the damages.” Stryyk said, finally being the voice of reason.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Char agreed, grudgingly.
They took the lift down to the bar and knocked on the door. The owner, a short, greasy—yet uncharacteristically jovial—man answered the door. He eyed them for a minute and took their hands with violently enthusiastic shakes.
“You guys are the best!” he said.
“Uh… yeah?” Stryyk asked. “How so?”
“I’ve already received your repayments in the amount that was twice what I was quoted for the repairs! Now I can do some of the upgrades I’ve been saving up for! I rarely get those who damage my property to pay me back. You are welcome here anytime!”
“We… um… we didn’t—”
“You’re welcome!” Char interrupted, then leaned into kiss Stryyk on the cheek and whispered into her his “Lyyn paid it.”
Realization struck Stryyk’s face like a like boxer and he said, “Oh yeah! Anytime! We were just… coming down to make sure you got it!”
“Well, I did, and I can’t thank you enough! When you come in, your drinks are on the house!”
“Wow, that’s very generous of you!” Char said. “But unfortunately, we’ll be leaving soon for a long trip into the Unknown Regions.”
“Well, if you ever come back this way, stop by for a free drink or two!”
“Will do,” Stryyk said with a hearty handshake. “Take care.”
They rode the lift up to their apartment, folded down their bed and snuggled in. For the first time in a long time, they made love. All the stress, the weight of life, fell off of them with the perspiration from their brows. What little sleep they got that night was the most peaceful, deep sleep they’d had in months. They awoke the next morning feeling rested and refreshed, ready to face a day of acquainting themselves to the cockpit of a new ship.
At precisely 0900, Lyyn rolled up in the stretched hover car. They got in and got underway. At the halfway point, Lyyn produced to blindfolds and with a sympathetic look, she said, “I’m sorry for this, but it really is for you protection and the protection for the whole crew.”
“We understand,” Char said.
The trip was long, with lots of winding and turning to disorient the occupants. Lyyn even took control of the car and drove it herself, so the driver could deny ever knowing the ship’s location and not be lying. The car bucked once and came to a stop. Seconds later it was moving again. Only this time, they realized, it was moving down. A few moments later, the car bucked again and moved forward for a hundred feet, where it came to a final stop. The blindfolds were removed, and they were helped out of the car. The area in which they stood was pitch black. The two looked around wide-eyed, trying to grab a glimpse of anything they could find. Eventually, Lyyn called out, “Lights please.” Slowly, the room brightened and they found themselves standing in a hangar of some kind. There were three smaller ships in the hanger sitting side-by-side on landing skids. They were no bigger than hover busses and could hold just about as many people.
“We’re piloting one of those?” Stryyk asked incredulously, pointing to the brand new vessels.
“Yes and no,” Lyyn offered. “You will be piloting these craft, in addition to others. I thought we’d start small and work our way up from there. So by all means, enter the vessels and check them out.”
Stryyk rubbed his hands together with anticipation as they both walked up the ramp on the port side of the ship. These vessels were unlike anything Stryyk had seen before! Top of the line everything, from accommodations to functions.
“These are our scout vessels,” Lyyn said.
“I don’t recognize the design,” Stryyk said.
“Me neither,” Char agreed.
“And you shouldn’t,” Lyyn added. “These three vessels are the only of their kind, designed and manufactured by our captain specifically for this adventure into the unknown. The only thing they don’t have are Eve’Zon Drives.”
“They’re impressive ships,” Stryyk agreed.
“Designed to be self-sufficient for up to three weeks away from the main ship,” Lyyn added.
&n
bsp; “Main ship?” Stryyk asked.
“Yes,” Lyyn said. “This is the main hangar of the ship.”
“This is the hangar?”
“The main hangar, yes,” Lyyn replied.
“So we’re in the ship right now?” Stryyk asked, looking around at the hangar which was several thousand square feet.
“You are,” Lyyn said.
“Our next stop is the bridge.”
“Then let’s go!” Stryyk said with excitement.
“Right this way.” Lyyn led them to a lift. They entered the lift and Lyyn said, “Bridge.”
The lift started moving. Within a few seconds, the door slid open into a large ovular room with a giant transparent aluminum canopy, which gave a clear view of the bulbous nose of the ship and a panoramic view of the facility in which the ship was being stored. The bridge was set up with one large helm console forward with two seats side-by-side for the pilot and copilot.
On the port side, facing inward, was the engineering console. On the opposite side, also facing inward was the large tactical console that would be worked by two people. Along the back wall, were the communications, sensors and auxiliary controls. At the center of the bridge was a large, cushy chair with hand consoles attached at the ends of each arm, and a small console on either side of the chair. That was clearly where the captain sat.
“Please, have a look around,” Lyyn said. “Most of the systems are up and running, but any information on the names and locations of the ship and captain are blocked by security features, so don’t even bother looking.”
Stryyk plopped down in the pilot’s chair and starting pressing buttons and flipping switches. The console came to life.
“Hello”, a feminine voice rang in the empty bridge, “I am Bav’Haar, the ship’s onboard AI system. Welcome aboard Pilots, Stryyk’Draal Stryyn and Char’Lyyn Stryyn. I have scanned you and added your biometric readings to my database so that I may track you while aboard.”
“Bav’Haar, please identify your designation,” Lyyn ordered.
Maiden Voyage (The Seryys Chronicles) Page 2
