"No, four freighters that I was attempting to get through Raider space. We'll be able to get more crewmen there to help with the prisoners and the ships."
"Aye, Captain."
"Carry on, Captain Yates. Prometheus, out."
"Aye, Captain. Chiron out."
"We've moved alongside the Chiron and come to a full stop, Captain," Lt. Commander Michaels said. "Uh, you did say that you were a GSC officer, didn't you, ma'am?"
"Yes, I am. NHSA, class of ‘56."
Lt. Commander Michaels looked at her intently. "‘56? You don't look old enough."
"It's a long story, Commander. I'll tell you sometime, and show you my GSC ring, but right now, I have to make a call. Mr. Kellogg, would you try to reach the freighter Vordoth on commercial frequency 25932.8?"
"Aye, Captain." After eight minutes, Mr. Kellogg said, "I have the Vordoth, Captain."
"Thank you, put it on the front viewscreen."
The familiar image of the Vordoth's bridge appeared, with Gloria sitting in the command chair. Even at the speed of IDS communications, there was a four minute lag between send and receive.
"This is the freighter Vordoth responding to the GSC Battleship Prometheus. Over."
"Vordoth, this is Carver. I'm on my way back. Over."
Eight minutes later, Jenetta saw and heard, "Captain? Is it really you?" Gloria couldn't contain herself and let her emotion show as she said effusively, "I'm so happy to hear from you. I thought that we'd never see you again." Realizing that people on both bridges were watching, she managed to get herself under control before adding, "Uh, we were just preparing to get underway, ma'am. The Nordakians have completed their repairs. Over."
"Lieutenant, did you carry out that last instruction I gave you? Over."
"Aye, Captain, I sent the detonate code within the past hour, as you ordered. Um— was that alright?" she asked haltingly. "Over."
"Yes, just fine. Good work. We expect to be joining you in about seven hours. Ask the Nordakians to stand down until we arrive and we'll give them an escort to Obotymot. Over."
"Aye, Captain. I'm glad to see that GSC showed up. Over."
"Uh— they haven't arrived yet. We sort of repossessed a couple of battleships from the Raiders. They owed me a ship anyway, after destroying our tug. We just— traded up a bit. Over."
"What were the Raiders doing with GSC battleships, ma'am? Over."
"The Raiders stole them from a shipyard where they were under construction. Anyway, we have them now and I'll return them to GSC after we get the Nordakians safely to their destination. I'll tell you more when I see you in seven hours. Prometheus out."
"See you soon, Captain. Vordoth out."
The brief communication had taken forty minutes to complete.
"Mr. Kellogg, can you get Gunny Rondell on the com."
"Aye, Captain. I'll find him."
The crewman that had once been a Space Marine corpsman arrived on the bridge and walked directly to Jenetta. "Gunny says that your arm is broken, Captain."
"Yes, can you put a splint on it?"
"Can do, Captain. I found a med kit."
After examining the arm gently with a small sonar sensor, he wrapped an air splint around it. As he rigged an arm sling for her he said, "It's just a simple break, Captain. You're going to have to cut down on the hand to hand combat for a while, but you should be completely healed in a few months."
"Thank you."
"No, it's me that needs to thank you. Thanks for saving my life. The guards told me that I was to be sent to the mining colony on Poqdrawk, so I never expected to see my family again. Thank you, Captain. If there's anything that I can ever do for you, you have only to let me know."
"Just give my regards to your family."
"Will do, Captain Carver."
"I have Gunny Rondell on the com, Captain," Mr. Kellogg said.
"Put him on my chair's left viewscreen."
The image of Gunny Rondell filled the small viewscreen as Jenetta swung it to face her.
"You need me, Captain?" Gunny asked.
"Gunny, I'd like to consolidate all the prisoners onto this ship. Can you shuttle your team and Mr. Browne's team over to the Chiron and start transporting them back? We have about four hours before they start waking up so we need to be done by then. Lock them up in a couple of empty cargo bays. Put the officers and biggest bruisers in the brig, and put restraints on as many of the other large prisoners as you can. We should have at least forty-seven sets left after the six sets that we've already used. All of the restrained prisoners can be put into one bay, with the others in a second. That way we can concentrate most of the guards on the second group. The restraints will keep the first group in line."
"Aye, Captain. We'll get started on it right way."
"When you're done, leave eight more men on the Chiron to help out. They're a little short-handed over there. We'll get everything squared away when we meet up with the Vordoth in a few hours."
"Aye, Captain."
"Thank you, Gunny. Carry on."
"Aye, Captain."
The com signal ended and the screen briefly changed to the GSC logo. Apparently, the Raiders had found it amusing to leave the original image in the system. Or perhaps they had intended to impersonate an SC battleship to convince commercial vessels to heave-to for inspection.
"Commander Michaels, would you turn on all larboard exterior lighting to assist the transfer operation."
"Yes ma'am."
"Mr. Kellogg, can you put up the larboard view on the front viewscreen so we can watch the shuttle operations."
"Aye, Captain."
The front viewscreen changed from an image of distant stars to show the Chiron, illuminated by Prometheus' powerful larboard lights. Without an atmosphere to diffuse the lighting, the natural bright-bronze coloration of the tritanium armor plating was highly contrasted against the bespeckled black background. Six shuttles moved through the spot-lights on their way from the Prometheus to the Chiron about twenty minutes later. It took numerous trips to transfer all the prisoners, but in two hours the transfer was complete, with the eight additional crewmen having been left on Chiron.
"Captain, Gunny reports that all prisoners have been transferred and put into the cargo bays as you ordered," Mr. Kellogg said. "The ship is sealed."
"Thank you, Mr. Kellogg. Notify the Chiron that we're getting underway."
"Aye, Captain."
"Commander Michaels, turn off all exterior lights except for navigation lighting and take us to Periseras, please."
"Adjusting course for the Periseras Cloud Formation, Captain," Lt. Commander Michaels said. "We should arrive there in about five hours at top speed."
"The Chiron acknowledges and will follow to larboard and aft, Captain."
"Thank you, Mr. Kellogg." Jenetta climbed down from the command chair, saying, "I haven't had a cup of coffee in weeks. I'm going to see if I can find a food synthesizer that'll brew me a hot cup of Colombian, Commander, and maybe get a little rest. You have the ship."
"There should be a beverage synthesizer in your briefing room, Captain," Lt. Commander Michaels said.
"I'll check."
All ship's officers, upon reaching the rank of Lieutenant, are assigned quarters with attached offices of varying sizes. The captain's bridge briefing room functions as his or her second office. With doors on both sides of the bridge, Jenetta was unsure of which led to the briefing room, but she had a fifty-fifty chance so she walked to the larboard side first. The door failed to open as she reached it, and she had to stop short in order to avoid crashing into it. She waited for a couple of seconds, then shifted to the left, and then to the right. Her movements were to allow the optical sensor an opportunity to get a good read on her body position so it'd know she was facing the door, waiting for admittance, rather than just passing it. But the doors remained closed.
Stretching out her right arm, Jenetta waved her hand near the override sensor. The doors slid open noisel
essly to reveal a large, lavishly decorated office with a wooden desk that seemed large enough to serve as a landing pad for a space tug. An ‘oh-gee' chair covered in deliciously-soft dark brown leather floated in front of a SimWindow behind the desk, and two similar overstuffed chairs faced the desk. A long, comfortable looking sofa, finished in the same soft brown leather used for the chairs, sat patiently waiting for occupants against one wall. The walls themselves were paneled with real oak, finished in a light honey color, not the synthetic product that only simulated wood. The light brown carpet that covered the entire deck felt like it was ten centimeters thick.
"Wow!" Jenetta said to herself after the doors closed. "I wonder if this was original, or if it was modified by one of the Raider captains?"
A beverage synthesizer on a sidewall caught her eye and she moved to it. Unaware of how long it had been since it was last used, Jenetta touched the ‘clean' icon on the small control panel. The dispenser immediately performed a quick self-cleaning operation which included purging all the chemical lines. Jenetta waited patiently as water and liquid poured from the drip spout. Since all liquids were recycled aboard ship, there was no waste of water. When the machine completed its cycle, the ready light flashed momentarily. To prevent the small waste of chemical ingredients, it would not perform another self-clean operation for at least twenty-four hours no matter how many times the operation was called for. Only a ship's engineer, or an inveterate hacker like Jenetta, could override the machine's computer instruction set.
Now cleaned and ready to provide liquid refreshment, the machine waited for orders. Jenetta picked up a sixteen-ounce mug from a rack next to the dispenser and placed it into the opening.
"Colombian coffee," she said. "Black with two sugars."
"Percentage of chicory?" the machine asked.
Jenetta's right eyebrow arched. She had never been asked that before. ‘Must be a new program,' she thought. ‘Or perhaps the captain placed in command of this ship had instructed the machine to always ask about chicory if it wasn't specified when coffee was requested.'
"None," she replied, then watched as her mug was filled to within one centimeter of the top edge.
She removed it carefully, sniffed it, then took a small sip. It was delicious. It was hot, but not so hot that she couldn't take a mouthful. She closed her eyes and let it trickle gently down her throat as she savored the flavor. She had dreamt of having a good cup of coffee ever since her first day in the detention center. Drinking the weak tea they'd served with the meals had been excruciating. ‘Romeo might have gotten further with me if he'd offered me a good cup of Colombian instead of apple pie,' she thought flippantly, then sobered as she remembered what she'd done. She shook herself mentally to dislodge the image of his broken body from her brain.
"Computer?"
"Waiting," she heard a disembodied voice say.
"You will no longer ask if someone wants chicory."
"Accepted."
"And you will acknowledge me, Jenetta Carver, NHSA class of ‘56, as captain of this ship."
"CT identification recorded and accepted, Captain."
With her coffee mug in hand, Jenetta walked to the enormous wooden desk. Some people might have felt that it was garish and ostentatious, but Jenetta thought it suited the ship and the almost unlimited power of the person who would ultimately command her. She placed her cup down, sat in the large, comfortable ‘oh-gee' chair behind the desk, and spun herself around.
"Jenetta Carver," she said aloud to herself, "you've done it. It may not be an official posting, but for right now, you are the captain of the newest— fastest— biggest— baddest— battleship in the entire known Galaxy. Weeeeeeee!"
The door-chime brought Jenetta out of her reverie. She stopped spinning the chair and giggled like a schoolgirl for a few seconds before composing herself. "Who is it?" she asked.
The computer replied with, "You have a visitor with an unrecorded ID, Captain."
"Admit the visitor," Jenetta said.
The computer opened the doors. Gunny Rondell walked in, his arms loaded with clothing.
"There aren't any GSC or Merchant Services uniforms in the storeroom, Captain, but I found a Raider officer uniform that should fit you a little better than the one you're wearing."
"Thank you, Gunny," she said smiling up at him. "That was very thoughtful of you."
"My pleasure, ma'am."
"Gunny, is the ship secure?"
"I believe so, Captain."
"Have you checked the list of crewmembers that had reported aboard against the identifications of the ones that you locked up?"
"No, Captain. Except for the five officers from the two bridges, they're all unconscious."
"Let's at least do a head count. Perhaps the Raiders use ID bracelets or dog tags for identification. If they do, we can determine the situation while they're still unconscious. Better get a count from the Chiron also, to make sure that we found them all over there. If any are missing we'll have to start a search immediately before they can attempt to sabotage the ships."
"I'll take care of it right away, Captain."
"Thank you, Gunny. Oh, Gunny?"
"Yes, Captain."
"I've forgotten completely about the female captives. Are they still in the trucks?"
"No, Captain. I took them to a lounge on Crew Quarters Deck Fourteen where they can relax. I figured it would be better that they remain together as a group for now. They'll be fine. Jergen is with them. The young woman he helped won't let him out of her sight now that we've completed our escape. I'm amazed that he managed to break loose long enough to participate in our effort to take these ships."
"You've done an incredible job, Gunny. Thank you."
"This has been the most fun I've had in years, Captain. It's been my honor to serve in your command."
Alone in the briefing room again, Jenetta gingerly removed the arm sling and then the uniform of the guard that she had killed. She was happy to be rid of it; for it carried the body odors of the dead jailer, and it was a constant reminder of the worst thing that she had ever experienced. It was one thing to fire a laser weapon and destroy a fighter craft that was trying to kill you, or to fire torpedoes at ships that would destroy yours given half a chance, but killing another human in unarmed combat, so close that you can smell them, and hear them gasp for their last breath, was a different matter entirely. She had only done what was absolutely necessary to save her own life, yet she feared that the sight of the guard's broken and crumpled body would be with her for the rest of her days.
Donning the clean shirt and trousers that Gunny had brought in, she marveled at the fit. The shoes were one size too big, but they were much better than the ones she'd been wearing. She pulled on the uniform jacket and smiled when she saw that Gunny had even found captain's bars for her. After she was dressed, she put the arm sling back on and walked to the chair behind the desk.
As she sat down, the com unit buzzed. Lifting the viewscreen, it lit up with the image of the communications station operator.
"Call for you from the freighter Jouraklihest, Captain."
"Thank you, Mr. Kellogg. Put it through."
The image of Captain Phuth Yuixotical immediately filled the screen.
"Captain Yuixotical, it's good to see you again. I understand that you've completed your repairs. Over."
"And it's good to speak to you again, Captain," she finally heard. "Your first officer on the Vordoth would only tell me that you had left on a classified mission. Now I learn that you're the captain of a GSC Battleship, and a battle group commander. I'm very confused, Captain Carver. Uh, I don't recognize the uniform that you're wearing. Over."
"It's the uniform used by the Raiders. My own uniform was— lost, while attempting to infiltrate a Raider base. Over."
"I see. And you're still intending to see us to Obotymot? Over."
"I am. And the chances of getting there without further attack are almost assured now. Over."
&nb
sp; "And why do you say that? Over."
"I'm afraid that's still classified. You'll have to trust me. Over."
"I do, Captain. Implicitly. In spite of being quite confused about your true identity and mission. Have you injured your arm? Over."
"Just a simple break. I've been told that I'll be fine in a few months. Over."
"I'm happy to hear that. How's your opponent? Over."
Jenetta grinned. "He's— still unconscious. Over."
Captain Yuixotical smiled widely. "I would have expected no less. Over."
"The Prometheus and Chiron will rendezvous with you in about five hours and we can depart for Obotymot two hours after I arrive. Over."
"The Chiron? Over."
"The Chiron is the other GSC battleship under my command. Over."
"I see. Very good, Captain, we'll be ready. Jouraklihest out."
"Prometheus out."
With the completion of the call, which consumed more than an hour, Jenetta sauntered over to the comfortable looking sofa and lay down. She wondered if she could grab ten minutes of uninterrupted rest. Closing her eyes, sleep overtook her within seconds.
The annoying and persistent sounds of a door-chime reached down and pulled Jenetta up from the depths of sound sleep. Startled and confused for a few seconds by the strange surroundings, memories of the past day came flooding back as she became alert.
"Come in," Jenetta said sleepily.
Lt. Commander Michaels entered as the door opened for him. "Captain, I just wanted to inform you that we've reached Periseras and rendezvoused with the four freighters."
"WHAT!? Why didn't someone wake me up?"
"You needed the rest, Captain, both because of your injury, and because of the stress that was evident on your face. You were exhausted. I would have awakened you if there had been any problems."
Jenetta sat up and rubbed her eyes with her right hand. "You're right, Commander, I did need it. Thank you for letting me sleep. How long have we been here?"
"We only just arrived. There are a number of space tugs headed this way, and they're requesting permission to come aboard."
"Granted. Do we have a suitable reception room on board?"
"On a ship this large we should have a dozen conference rooms that would fit the bill."
A Galaxy Unknown Page 29
