by Ava D. Dohn
*
“There! There it is!” Crilenian shouted, stretching his arm, pointing as he did.
DarlaRosa and KyseninaGerzion looked up and moaned. Curious, Ardon chanced a glance over his shoulder, groaning. Ofhie, who didn’t even bother to open his eyes, just muttered, “It’s been on deep space patrol for over eighteen months, had no servicing for that long or longer. Heard a lot of work’s been done to the inside. Still looks like a dung heap, though...”
Ardon’s heart sank. What a dump! He imagined if it appeared so ratty on the outside, what must it be like within? It was true, the Shikkeron did look a sight. The ravages of deep space patrol were hard on any ship, but the demands placed upon the Shikkeron over the last year and a half had really taken their toll. Hasty repairs were all afforded it during those months and, other than the ten-day makeover recently given it, little else was done with her. The ship looked tired, old, and defeated. It certainly was not a ship to host such an important delegation as was Lowenah’s council!
“Curious…” Ardon spoke aloud, observing the nearing brigantine. Unlike the hustle and bustle he saw around the other ships they passed, the Shikkeron was strangely quiet. There was a small cargo tractor waiting behind an unloading lorry, a water tanker charging the ship with its cargo, and a small gun-buss with its crew of three at watchful ease - oh, and several nattily dressed sailors standing about the different open entryways. Other than a brightly colored tent some twenty paces from the main loading ramp with a few people lounging in its shade, there was little activity to observe.
The coach pulled up close to two tiny, motorized flat trucks, their baggage handlers snapping to attention, hurriedly attending to their duties as soon as the driver came to a stop. Ardon jumped down quickly, smiling to the attendants who politely bowed his arrival. Turning, he offered his hand, assisting first Tashi and then the other women out of the coach.
In less than a minute, the luggage was loaded on the flat trucks and whisked away, the motor coach quickly following, off on some other determined errand. The small party stood, silently viewing their surroundings, tumblers of iced, cold ale presented them by one of the ship’s officers. The sun shone brightly in a cloudless, deep blue sky while an occasional chickadee darted in and out of view. Other than the muted noise of some exhaust fans and the distant hiss of an engine room steam vent, all was quiet except for the sound of the morning’s gentle, warm breeze.
The officer was called away by someone under the tent, she suggesting new arrivals follow her. Instead, Ardon, having now taken on the role of guardian, directed the group toward the boarding ladder at the Shikkeron’s bow, seeing the main belly ramp was still closed. Ardon waved his pleasantries to the junior officer there who smiled and bowed his salutation.
Extending his hand in greeting, Ardon offered a cordial hello, he knowing the officer from his recent journey aboard the Starlight. “Why, Crilen, what a surprise! I’d not expected to find such a fine steward as you booking passage on this barge. Or did Mother press you into service for our journey?”
Crilen grinned, shaking his head and pointing to the braided ribbon on his sleeve. “No, my Lord Ardon, neither. Captain Bedan offered me a post as midshipman if I should join his crew. Mind you, serving as a steward aboard that fine schooner was delightful, but rather dull. I wanted some adventure and, feeling the Prisoner Exchange with its deep space travels to EremiaPikros – I’ve never been there – might satisfy the desire, I took up the good captain’s offer and shipped aboard.”
Ardon laughed. “Well, if its adventure you want, then may it be so. But I doubt you will find it on this tour of duty. EremiaPikros is little more than a hot, sandy planet filled with nothing other than nasty creatures that bite, sting, or just irritate the senses. As for the Prisoner Exchange, I expect little difference from past escapades. We’ll go and haggle ransoms and who’s to blame and for what. Then we’ll trade whatever for whomever and return home with our freed brethren. Nope, I think you may be disappointed with this trip if it’s adventure you seek.”
“True that may be, my Lord.” Crilen smiled good-naturedly. “But I’ve already made my mark and signed on for this tour of duty. I’ll have to wait until our return to decide my future fate, though I think I’ll have a grand time anyway, seeing all the important dignitaries taking passage with us.”
Patting Crilen’s arm, Ardon looked over his shoulder, asking, “Why is the ramp up? Doesn’t the good captain know his guests have arrived? We’d like to board and freshen up a bit.”
Crilen apologized. “Captain Bedan is yet to arrive, my Lord. The ship’s officer in charge has decided to wait his arrival before boarding passengers. We have set up a spacious pavilion for your waiting comfort, filled with sweet dainties and refreshing drinks. Two of the Shikkeron’s musicians are there, at the ready to titillate your ears.”
Frowning, Ardon stepped toward the ladder. “No…my party and I need some private refreshment time. If the ramp is closed, then we shall enter by this means.”
Crilen did not move, he standing between Ardon and the ladder. “I’m sorry, my Lord. Please, take some refreshment at the tent. The captain will be along soon.”
Taken aback and embarrassed, Ardon’s face clouded, his voice betraying inner feelings, blurting out, “Crilen! You know who I am! Who we all are! Now let us pass so we may settle aboard!”
“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Crilen was shaken, but stood his ground. “but I have my orders.”
Anger clearly sounded in Ardon’s voice. “Forget those stupid orders! Look! I take responsibility for your actions. Step aside and let this party pass!”
Shocked at Ardon’s outburst and, though quite intimidated, Crilen still refused to allow Ardon to pass. “I am truly sorry, my Lord, but you do not have the authority to negate the orders of the ship’s officer in charge.”
Furious, Ardon waved his arms, rendering insults and threats to the officer, Crilen, and the Navy for permitting such fools to be placed in charge. His ranting drew the attention of everyone within earshot. Even the baggage handlers stopped to watch the goings on. Tashi stepped back, embarrassed and surprised at her companion’s actions. The others remained as they stood, some nodding approval while others said not a word.
Someone hidden in the darkness of the Shikkeron shouted down, “Midshipman Crilen! Give me your report! What’s going on down there?”
Crilen did not look up. Standing stalwart against the rising tide of intimidation, he calmly answered, “There are those here who wish to board, Captain.”
“Captain?!” Ardon shouted angrily. “That’s not the voice of Bedan. Who are you?! Show yourself this instant!”
No sooner had he finished speaking than a black, polished boot appeared on the highest rung of the ladder, followed on the next rung by another. Then, in rapid succession, those boots flew down the rungs, their owner with her back turned as she descended. Instantly Ardon recognized the uniform. His heart sank. It could only be that misfit, Darla. Why, oh why her? Anyone, but that creature… And she was a fright to see, being all dressed up for war, carrying a long dagger strapped to her right thigh and a holstered lanner fastened by a wide black belt high to the left on her waist, set up for right-hand cross-draw.
His face growing red, fear of possible humiliation, embarrassment, and increasing anger at not being shown the proper respect for their - his - lordly station, Ardon decided that this creature was going to rue the day she crossed the line of propriety. This would not become another travesty such as occurred at the last council meeting! He would not be on the receiving end this time!
Darla’s feet were just touched the pavement, she beginning her turn to face toward the people there, when Ardon attacked. Stepping forward to within inches of the woman, as her eyes met his, he unleashed a venomous string of scathing rebukes. “Enough of your silly games! Has the titmouse forgotten its place behind the hearth and decided to rule at the
table?! This is the King’s council and we have more important matters to attend to than to wait upon the panderings of a shrew rat! Now let us pass and stop acting akin to the Lord of lords!”
Taken aback by the mind-numbing assault for but a moment, Darla stared dumbly into Ardon’s angry face. Gradually, as the reality of the moment began to sink in, she came to her senses. Devastating as it was, she refused to allow it to affect her actions. After all, Darla was a first-rate officer. Duty came above feeling, and duty at this time was to display the qualities of a first-rate officer.
Pushing hurt and rage aside, except for the furious blazing in her eyes, Darla calmly replied to Ardon, “My Lord, I am but the steward of this ship until its captain arrives. He shall choose who will board and when, it being a courtesy granted seeing he is responsible for the fate of those in his charge. My orders were to remain the Shikkeron secure until the captain arrives. Midshipman Crilen was only obeying my direct orders.”
“Stupid orders!” Ardon screamed, veins bulging in his neck. “And what did you make up such stupid orders for anyway?!” He waited for no reply. “No! No! You’re playing captain, lord and god!”
His face mocking, Ardon swept his hand wide, asking haughtily, “What is this to you? Are these people your little toy soldiers in your own little kingdom of power? They stand so pretty in their neat little uniforms. And we? Are we your peasant crowd, expected to bow to your command so as to get the crumbs of a blessing from your table of boastful delights? Has the sun got to you so early in the day, or does the fragrance of the fermented grape still linger heavy on your lips?”
Ardon threw his hands up to his mouth, leaning back as though afraid. “Ho! Maybe we’re at risk for our lives! One of us may be an evil saboteur seeking this ship’s destruction… if there’s anything left of it to destroy. Look! We’ve important business to finish, and we don’t have time to waste on the childish antics of a half-crazed drunkard…”
Darla remained the good soldier, though how is uncertain. Standing as if a line in battle, she steeled herself and quietly answered, “The officer in charge does not drink while on duty. I am not drunk. As for the danger, Lord Ardon, of all people I would believe your knowledge the greatest for why we need to be wary. Even now, assassins linger in our crowd, a murdered courtier discovered not three leagues from here only eight days ago. It is necessary to be prepared for every danger...”
Directing the party’s attention toward the tent by extending a hand in invitation, Darla forced a smile. “There are prepared drinks and treats from our excellent galley cook, music for your listening pleasure and, should you desire, there are some chilling fans to keep you cool. My attendant here will assist you with your every need.”
Tashi, who was dumbstruck and thoroughly embarrassed, began to follow the attendant, soon to be followed by DarlaRosa and Kysenina. Ardon shouted for them to stop and turned, enraged, back to Darla, shaking in anger. “The only danger here is you! You and that sick head of yours! Now get out of my way, misfit! Let us board!”
Before Ardon could blink, he found himself looking down the barrel of a drawn lanner, Darla’s finger squeezing back on the trigger. “Lord Ardon, may I suggest you reconsider?” Although her voice was calm, at the moment Darla could only see red, Ardon being little more than a shadow painted on a crimson landscape. And then she felt it, the waking monster within.
Fearing the worst should matters escalate, Darla pleaded with Ardon, she feeling another being reaching out to take control of her soul, the monster of the battlefield. It had many times been her savior, but today? Today it might well spell her ruin. Then from deep down in the woman’s throat there arose an insect staccato noise. Darla was on the verge of panic.
“Please! Lord Ardon!” Darla cried in an unrecognizable, deep guttural voice, “Please, obey my request!”
Ardon chanced a glance into Darla’s eyes, gasped and fell back in terror. Orbs of smoldering red fire burned into his mind the most unholy of sights the man had ever witnessed. Was this creature even one of Mother’s children, or an abomination from the dark abyss of Asotos’ twisted mind…or worse? Was the demon of her nightmares finally consuming the soul of this woman and only her flesh survived to house the beast?
The others stared dumbly in stunned silence, Crilen standing aghast, eyes bulging with fright and uncertainty. As Darla composed herself, the monster slowly retreated, returning mastery of the moment back to its rightful owner. At length, she found her voice and, forcing a returned calm to her speech, reconfirmed her authority. “The Shikkeron is currently under my captaining. No one boards without my permission. Should it be attempted, I will put that person down by whatever means practicable.”
Ardon was retreated some distance by now, cowering behind a very distraught Crilenian who was unable to avoid his predicament. From the safety of his reluctant fortress, he opened anew his verbal assault against his protagonist. “You’re crazy!!! Flippin’ crazy! Fallen from your tree, you have! The demon’s taken you for sure! You’ll kill us all!!! Kill us all!”
The sound of an approaching motorcoach did little to assuage Ardon’s vicious attack. It was not until Euroaquilo shouted out his booming hello that the man quieted. Upon seeing the admiral, he hurried over to greet him, beginning anew his rant regarding his attempted murder at the hands of that ‘crazy woman’.
Euroaquilo patiently listened, finally asking as he scanned the crowd, “Which one is the crazy woman?”
Ardon’s temper flared again, he poking Euroaquilo in the chest and then pointing. “Don’t play that game with me! You know who I am, and you certainly know who that crazy is. But, for your benefit, in case your senses have left you, too, it’s the one holding that terrible gun over there.”
Following the direction in which Ardon pointed, Euroaquilo saw Darla and very quietly replied, “Oh...”
“Don’t just ‘Oh…’!” Ardon shouted. “Do something! Now!”
Euroaquilo nodded and then slowly walked over to Darla, who was still holding the lanner high and in the direction where Ardon had first accosted her. He stopped up close. Darla did not speak or move, she fighting to keep her wits about her. Lifting the bagged food, he quietly commented, “Hello... Sorry I’m late. Here’s the breakfast I promised to get you.”
Darla lowered the lanner, but her eyes never left Ardon. Her reply was polite but sour. “I’m not hungry, thank you.”
Ardon jumped forward, now using Euroaquilo as his new shield wall. “Dismiss her now! I order it! That creature is a threat to us all… and to our mission! Dismiss her!”
Lowering the bag of food, Euroaquilo innocently asked, “What’d she do?”
Ardon was incensed. “Not you, too! She… she… that creature tried to kill me! She stuck that ugly thing right in my face! If I’d not jumped back, she’d ‘ave killed m…”
Euroaquilo turned and smiled so seriously. “My Lord Ardon, this woman needs never try. Had she decided you dead, then I would be asking the others what happened here. You are indeed most fortunate. Never have I seen this woman ask to parley when she has decided to kill someone.”
Ardon became sarcastic. Euroaquilo ignored him, pressing Darla for an answer. “Leftenant, what happened here?”
The woman sighed in an attempt to finally compose herself, closing her eyes as she did. When they opened, she replied, “I had ordered that no one was to board the Shikkeron until its captain chose to do so. Lord Ardon apparently misunderstood those orders. I was presently assisting him with their clarification.”
Ardon broke in, shouting and gesturing wildly. “Lies! Lies! She tried to kill us! Kill us all! All we wanted was to board this boat and refresh ourselves!” He then grabbed hold of Euroaquilo’s shirt, tugging on him, demanding, “Order it to let us board! Then dismiss her… or shoot her! Just get rid of her!”
An eyebrow went up and then another. Euroaquilo gently removed Ardon�
�s hands and, pretending to fuss with the councilor’s clothes, answered, “According to the rules of engagement, this officer stands this ship until its chief officer or the person placing her in command relieves her of duty. I do not have such authority and am, in this case, outranked here.”
Looking around at the others and then staring Ardon in the face, he loudly added, “The good leftenant here has the right to keep anyone she chooses off this ship, including me. She also has the right to use whatever force she chooses to prevent someone from boarding. My friend, that creature was within her legal rights to put you down, to kill you when you attempted a coup on this ship. We are in the Navy here, on this tarmac, not the council chambers. We play by different rules than you do there. For the time being, Leftenant Darla is commander of this ship, and you are whatever she chooses you to be.”
“My fellow…” Euroaquilo pointed toward the Shikkeron. “that is the good leftenant’s ship!”
Ardon was dumbstruck. He was furious, to be certain. What was wrong here? Was Admiral Euroaquilo so taken by this… this urchin that he, too, had become demented? Was Darla’s demon so great so that it also gained control of the girl’s lover? Dangerous it must be, but Ardon was not a complete fool. He would be silent for now. Mother was soon to arrive. He would find an audience with her and expose this folly and get the matter corrected. And then they would learn respect for a councilor of Lowenah.
“Come, now!” Euroaquilo waved his hand high while putting an arm around Ardon’s shoulder. “There looks to be dainties aplenty for us all and… and, why there are some fine musicians to play us a ditty or two.” With that, he ushered the party toward the tent.
Darla, her anger beginning to bubble up from within, finally threw an insult in Ardon’s direction, speaking loudly while handing Crilen the lanner, ordering him, “If that peasant should decide to board without Captain Bedan’s permission, shoot him!”
Ardon hurried his step, fearing to look back. Better to stay his distance than to have the demon revealed at his expense. He would wait his time to be exonerated. It would come soon…
