by C H Gideon
Reynolds snarled but said nothing.
Maddox raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be outside.”
He left without hesitation and the bridge door hissed shut behind him, slamming with a thump.
“Damn, you’re in a mood,” Jiya told the AI.
He spun, walking over to stand before Jiya. “We need to get something straight.”
Jiya met his eyes, and despite their chrome gleam, she realized he was serious. “Sure.”
“While I’ve likely set a poor example given how I speak to myself, I think we need to set a better example for the new crew.”
“How’s that?”
“First of all, there needs to be a clear chain of command,” he answered. “This is a military craft, and there needs to be discipline in all aspects or people will end up dead.”
“You realize, of course, that a good number of the people onboard are not soldiers, right? Including Geroux and me, Takal, and Ka’nak. Maddox is the only one with real military experience,” she explained. “You’re going to have a hard time instilling military discipline in a bunch of civilians. If that was what you wanted, we should have recruited a different crew.”
Reynolds sighed. “That might be true, but we can’t just have everyone running around doing whatever they want to and speaking out of turn.”
“Is that what this is about?” Jiya asked, eyes narrowing.
Reynolds huffed. “Maybe.”
She chuckled. “Look, I get it. Maybe we are too lax, to some degree. There’s a whole lot of shit-talk. I can see how that might erode discipline.”
He nodded. “People need to know who’s in charge and respect them—you, me—and that won’t happen if we don’t set an example ourselves.”
“I can see that,” she agreed. “It makes sense.”
“It’s one thing when it’s just us,” he said, “but when the rest of the crew are present, we need to show order and discipline and make sure they understand that when a command is given, they need to follow it without hesitation. No trash talk, no joking around. Cruel as it might sound, we can’t have them thinking we’re friends. We need to be superior officers first, and they need to know they’re subordinates when it comes to doing their jobs.”
Jiya sighed. She’d just been thinking the same thing. Reynolds was right. It wasn’t just a handful of crew members who knew each other now; it was hundreds, and they were strangers. Order needed to be maintained or chaos would take over, especially if they found themselves in a combat situation. People would die then, and Jiya didn’t want to be responsible for that because she’d acted the fool and given them a reason to be idiots.
“I’ll set a better example,” she promised.
“As will I,” Reynolds agreed.
“Yeah, whatever,” Tactical muttered.
“Shut up,” Reynolds told him. “Aren’t you supposed to be training cadets?”
“As if I can’t do that with half my processors shut down.”
Jiya grinned and made for the door. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
“Send Maddox back in, please,” the AI ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Jiya replied as the door slid open. She marched out, shaking her head.
“Everything all right?” Maddox asked as she passed. He’d taken up a spot against the wall while he waited.
She nodded. “All good, General. Reynolds wants you back at your post, just so you know.”
He offered up a grin. “No rest for the wicked, right?”
“That’s for sure.” Jiya waved and headed down the corridor as the bridge sealed at her back.
Having pacified Reynolds for the moment, she decided to check on Takal and Geroux. The pair had been hard at work in Takal’s new workshop since they’d left Lariest. Well, drinking and working.
Takal had been so excited that President V’ariat had provided damn near a warehouse of equipment and tools that’d he’d spent all his time there, day and night, barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep between shifts while he tinkered.
It hadn’t helped things that Jiya and Reynolds had raided Takal’s old lab in the presidential compound, carrying a number of Takal’s secret projects back up to the ship with them. That had only encouraged him more, and he’d roped Geroux into his madness.
“Hey,” Jiya said as she entered the workshop.
Geroux grinned and ran over, giving her a hug. She pulled back and stifled a yawn. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Long night.” Jiya could smell the strong scent of coffee on her friend.
“Should probably take a break and get some sleep,” Jiya suggested. “Caffeine will only get you so far.”
“Blasphemy!” Geroux joked.
“No time for that,” Takal called, interrupting them. He waved the pair over to his workbench. “Come, you should see this.”
Jiya wandered over and saw scattered bits and pieces of armor lying there. It was the same stuff that they’d worn when they’d boarded the alien scout ship, although it was clear Takal had worked his magic on it. The metal gleamed, and it looked different somehow.
Takal gestured to the assembled suit. “I’ve gone and sized the armor so it will fit everyone better, adjusting to take on the proportions of the wearer instead of just hanging limp. Beyond that, I’ve managed to install limited flight capabilities.”
“Limited?”
“I’d advise against trying to leap off a skyscraper,” he replied, “but a two- or three-story flight attempt wouldn’t end up so badly…probably.”
“You are inspiring confidence,” Jiya muttered.
Takal shrugged. “It’s a work in progress. You have to expect bumps.”
“As long as said bumps don’t result in anyone becoming a wet splat on the ground,” she countered.
“Well, then I’d suggest no one take gravity for granted until I’ve perfected the system.” Takal grinned.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Jiya told him, chuckling.
Takal raised a finger, still smiling. “But that’s not the best part.”
Jiya raised an eyebrow. “Impress me, O Techno-wizard.”
He held up a small, flat device the size of her hand. “You recognize this from my lab?”
Jiya nodded. “Can’t say I know what the hell it is, but I remember collecting it.”
“Well, this is one of my greatest achievements, and which I’m glad your father never realized what it was.”
“The suspense is killing me.”
Takal nodded. “Sorry, I get excited.” He sipped from his flask.
“And easily sidetracked,” Geroux confirmed, nudging him to continue.
“Oh, yes,” he said, putting his flask away. “Anyway, this is a personal stealth device,” he told them, turning the tiny device around so they could see it. “Essentially, it’s a cloaking device.”
“Wait, that’s the thing you were working on before I ran away last time, right?”
Geroux nodded. “He’s been perfecting it for a long time now, and it’s finally ready.” She patted her uncle on the shoulder. “This is his masterpiece.”
“Hardly,” Takal corrected, “but it’s close.” He pressed the device against the armor’s breastplate, which vanished.
“Woah!” Jiya gasped. She reached out and ran her hand around where the armor had just been and was amazed to feel it beneath her fingertips despite not being able to see it. “That’s amazing.”
Takal pulled the device away, letting the breastplate reappear. “With all the equipment President V’ariat provided us, I’ll be able to replicate the device en masse soon enough.” He sighed then. “Unfortunately, right now, I only have the one.” He looked at the device with obvious yearning. “I’ll be able to cloak a single suit of armor until then, but that’s one more than we have now, right?”
“It’s perfect, Takal,” Jiya assured him. “Just perfect.”
“He’s also made headway on Reynolds’ outer covering, although there’s still a bunch of work to do on it.” She motioned towa
rd a cluster of metal plates at the far end of the table. “I’ve incorporated networking systems and circuitry to provide better assimilation with the body and give him better overall control over it and the ship at the same time. It’ll also allow him to access external systems much more easily, giving him nearly instant access to alien computers.”
“Ooh, he’ll love that,” Jiya told her.
“It’s still experimental,” Geroux admitted with a shrug, “but it’s a solid theory. It should work fine.”
“I’m sure he’ll test it as soon as it’s in place,” Jiya said. “Anyway, I’ll let you two keep working. I need to get back to making sure the crew finds someplace to put all the damn supplies we picked up.” She sighed. “There is so much damn shit.”
“Better to have a surplus than demand,” Takal muttered, not bothering to look up from the piece of armor he was working on.
“So true,” Jiya admitted. She gave Geroux a hug and waved goodbye to them both.
Jiya still had a ton of work to catch up on, but first, she headed for the galley.
She needed some of that coffee that was keeping Geroux running. A gallon or two should work.
Chapter Twenty
A few days later, the core crew sat hunched in the newly-organized mess hall.
Work had continued unabated on the superdreadnought since their departure from Lariest space, the new crew settling in nicely and finding their way around the ship. The galley hummed with activity although it was still hours before lunchtime. That gave the small gathering of Jiya, Geroux, Takal, Maddox, and Ka’nak the room almost to themselves.
“Now this,” Ka’nak held up a fork weighed down with a hunk of beef, juice dripping to his plate, “is a meal for a man.” He stuffed the food into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.
“It’s also way more than you should be stuffing into even your big-ass mouth,” Jiya teased as he chewed with his mouth open.
“Come on, now,” Geroux mumbled. “You’re squirting juice everywhere.”
“Sharing my joy,” Ka’nak said through a mouthful.
Reynolds came into the room, heavy steps sounding in the empty hall.
The crew made to stand, but Reynolds waved them back to their seats. “Don’t need any of that in the mess hall,” he told them, coming over and dropping into a seat across from Jiya with a sigh.
“What’s up?” Geroux asked. “You’re looking…less shiny today.”
Reynolds raised a metallic eyebrow. “A nice coating of pseudo-flesh would be nice.” He cast a glance in Takal’s direction.
“I’m working on it,” Takal replied. “Do you know how hard it is to craft quality synthetic skin that won’t tear with every movement?”
“No, but I suspect you’re going to tell me,” Reynolds replied.
“You’re damn right I am,” Takal answered. “It’s quite difficult, if you must know. First, you need to—”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Jiya asked the AI, tuning out the old scientist. “You not looking like a meatbag?”
He shook his head. “Only a little,” he admitted.
“Then what is it?”
Reynolds grunted. “I’d expected us to run into Kurtherians by now,” he grumbled, the new voice synthesizer Takal had implanted making him sound almost human. “We’ve been searching forever.”
“It’s only been about a week,” Ka’nak countered.
“Yeah, but still…” Reynolds whined. “I need some damn action. We’ve been crisscrossing the galaxy, and we haven’t run into anything.”
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Jiya suggested.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” she said, drawing in a deep breath and wondering how the AI would take her criticism, “while your algorithm is a good idea, allowing us to check off sections of the galaxy as uninhabited and free of Kurtherians, we’re kind of…uh, chasing our tail a bit.”
“How so?” Reynolds asked.
“I mean, if these Kurtherians are as bad as you say they are—”
“Oh, they are,” Reynolds assured her.
“Then what reason do they have to hide in the far reaches of empty space?” Jiya asked. “Bad guys do bad things, right?”
“Makes sense to me,” Ka’nak agreed.
The AI glanced at the ceiling, clearly processing.
Maddox chuckled. “So, you’re saying that we’re wasting our time scraping the edge of the universe, thinking these Kurtherians are looking for dark corners to hide in?”
“Exactly that,” Jiya answered. “What’s there to be gained out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Nothing,” Geroux answered.
“Precisely. That’s why I say we should quit trying to do this systematically and actually throw a little chance into the mix.”
“How so?” Reynolds asked.
“Let’s find a world that’s crowded with people, a crossroads of sorts. Somewhere a bunch of different races come together and mingle,” she replied. “Where better to find someone than where everyone is?”
“You have someplace in mind?” Reynolds wondered.
Jiya shrugged. “Not particularly. Shit, I’ve never been away from Lariest before now. Still, there were a few places in Marianas that drew people from all over the planet.”
“Detrol,” Geroux said, shaking her head. “That place was a blast. Everyone who was anyone could be found there at one time or another.”
“Wait!” Takal mumbled. “You’ve gone to Detrol?”
Geroux stiffened. “Uh, no, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about it.”
Jiya laughed. “Come on now, Takal. It’s a little late to mother her, don’t you think? You let her join a crazy AI and fly off into the wild black yonder, but you won’t let her party every now and again?”
“I resent that,” Reynolds growled.
Jiya met his glare with a grin. “Anyway, I’m thinking we need to go somewhere there are a bunch of people. Somewhere the Kurtherians could be up to no good.”
“How about Dal’las Tri?” Ka’nak suggested.
“What’s that?” Maddox asked, leaning in.
“It’s a mercenary planet,” the Melowi replied. “At least on the surface.”
“What do you mean?” Jiya asked.
“Well, it’s where one goes to hire mercenaries, although they have a robust economy on their own because of trade, but as with any military establishment, there are casinos and theaters and all sorts of friendly attractions. Lots of bright lights and shiny people,” he answered. “But there’s also a dark, gritty side to the place. Lots of fight pits and gambling.”
He glanced around as if someone might be listening in.
“Not that I know this personally or anything…”
Reynolds remained stoic, not taking the bait.
Ka’nak smiled at the AI before continuing, “There are a lot of underground markets there, and I don’t mean literally under the ground, though there are some of those, too.”
“Black markets?” Geroux asked.
Ka’nak nodded. “Besides the mercenary trade, there’s stuff you don’t want to dig too deeply into unless you’re looking for serious trouble. The place is a hotbed of illegal activity and, if you’re looking to get into something bad, that’d be the place I’d go. Anything you can think of can be bought on the planet.”
“Makes sense that your Kurtherians might have a presence there,” Maddox said, scratching his chin. “Might be worth checking out.”
“You may be right about this.” Reynolds nodded his agreement. “Helm,” he said into the comm, “set a course for Dal’las Tri. We’ve got some Kurtherian ass to kick. Well, find, then kick.”
“Opening a Gate now,” Helm came back. “Can’t wait.”
“Maybe I can ply my trade. Make a few extra credits for my troubles while interrogating whoever I’m beating the crap out of.” Ka’nak grinned like a wolf.
“You just want to get into trouble,” Jiya to
ld him.
He shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”
The trip to Dal’las Tri was fast and easy.
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Jiya asked Reynolds, but the AI waved her off.
“Given that I look like a science experiment gone wrong, it’s probably best I let you run point on this excursion. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
“And me,” Comm added.
“Me, too,” Tactical said.
“And—” XO started, but Geroux cut him off.
“Yeah, guys, we get it,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ll reach out if we run into trouble.”
Tactical sniffed. “Kids,” he mumbled, sounding sad. “They grow up and leave home so fast these days.”
Geroux rolled her eyes. “Time to go?”
“As quickly as possible,” Jiya replied, marching off the bridge and waving the rest of the crew after her.
Ka’nak and Takal strolled alongside her, and Maddox took up the rear.
“Bring us some presents!” Comm called.
“Preferably some Kurtherian heads,” Tactical added. “Unattached, of course.”
“See what we can do.” Jiya gave a thumbs-up and led the crew to the shuttle.
Once they all boarded, Helm wasted no time getting them planetside.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Helm told them as they debarked, the shuttle lifting off on its way back to the superdreadnought.
Jiya looked after the departing shuttle. “I don’t know what you wouldn’t do, but I’ll make sure not to do that.”
Once they’d made it off the crowded tarmac it was an immediate culture shock, the landing area opening directly into the heart of the city.
“Holy…” Ka’nak muttered. “This is even grander than I expected.”
“Isn’t it?” Geroux replied, eyes wide, taking everything in.
Brilliant lights were everywhere. Flashing signs advertised everything from smokes to armies to private liaisons to gambling and special events, the advertisements written in a hundred different languages or more.
Towering buildings rose into the sky around them as they walked, not a blank surface on any of their walls. People strolled the streets, openly drinking, laughing, and chatting as they flowed between the various casinos that littered the main walk.
