“What the hell do they expect us to do?” Oz exclaimed as he paced the length of the Captains quarters main room. “It's not like I can just order the ship out of the sector and leave a big gaping hole in our defence here, not to mention toss my career away.”
Jason turned the holoprojector off after looking at his wife's face one more time. “As soon as I get her second message I'm following,” he said, crossing his arms and sitting back on the recliner. The cabin was dark, overlarge. Captain Terry Ozark McPatrick had kept the crew at arm's length. The environment of mistrust surrounding his new command was the root cause.
Lieutenant Trajenko read every single one of his reports the instant they were posted in the system. She also had her artificial intelligence summarize the shift reports of every senior officer before scrubbing its memory clear of the details. She followed Freeground's orders to the letter. Jason had gotten access to them; 'provide constant oversight to Commanding Officer Terry Ozark McPatrick and guidance if necessary. Report any violation of orders to Freeground Fleet Intelligence as soon as they occur. If any critical deviation from orders takes place, assume command immediately.' was what they said.
“You're Intelligence now, it would be hard but you might be able to explain away any charges they'd put on you if you went after her.”
Jason laughed sardonically. “Not likely. She's my wife, that's pretty transparent.”
“So you're right. But we've been sitting on this message for seven days, and Trajenko is just waiting for me to step out of place,” he ran his hand over his short blond hair. “If Fleet wanted me in command, they should have just given it to me and trusted I'd follow orders. I know what we're doing out here, how hard it was winning this much ground. I don't need some watchdog nipping at my heels every second just to make sure I hold the line. If they wanted Intelligence to run this thing, they should have put her in charge, not that she's earned the rank.”
“What can I say Oz? You're right.”
He dropped into the armchair he'd brought with him from his last command. “Of course I'm right, I've been thinking about this for a week.”
Jason's command and control unit, a graft on the back of his hand, sent a mild sensation through his nervous system. He had set his priority message indicator to feel like a drop of ice cold water hitting the back of his hand. “Looks like we won't have to wait much longer,” the holographic message projected through his left palm, so he was holding it in his hand. “It's encrypted with our personal key.”
Laura's face appeared, she was smiling but tired. “We made it Jason. This is going to be hard to hear, so I'll get the bad news out in the open. Ayan passed away and Jonas had died before we arrived. He saved hundreds if not thousands of lives in doing so, it could have been so much worse. Our old Captain lives on in a different way. They made a framework of him. There are so many similarities, he even has most of his memories. Sometimes it's like I'm looking at Jonas only ten years older, grown into his skin with so much confidence. When he walks by crew members they feel it, it lifts them up.
You're not going to believe this, but he took the Triton from Wheeler with a crew of about twenty people. He's taken on a couple thousand crew, making it into a real home, a real warship and he's told me that he's going to start liberating slaves, making a dent in Regent Galactic. There's so much going on here, things you couldn't begin to believe if I told you. It feels like this is the center of everything. I want to stay, something good is about to happen here, but if you need me to go back and face Freeground Fleet Command, I'll start making my way as soon as I can.
We're needed here though, and I know you've been restless. It's up to you. The Silkstream should be minutes behind this message, so if you want to join me, refuel it and go to one of the coordinates listed in the broadcast. I love you Jason, I miss you and I hope to see you soon.”
The transmission ended and Jason looked at Oz, smiling impishly. His friend looked amazed, pensive. Just moments before he was filled with frustration, weary of his situation. If there was any time to say what he knew was going through Oz's head aloud, it was right then. “Coming with me?”
“If I weren't doing important work here.”
“Come on, you know they set you up with a senior staff that can cover for you if you ended up in the brig. This is our chance to make a difference again, to go where we're really needed. There's nothing happening here anymore, the war was won while you were out on patrol and just because they promised you this ship to go after Jonas but had to scrub that mission they left you in command. This is an apology, they're just saddling you with all this responsibility because they're afraid of what you'd do if you were left on your own.”
“You don't think I deserve this command?” Oz said angrily.
“Of course you do! But not here, you should be out at the front, running operations where each and every mission makes a difference.”
Captain McPatrick's command unit, a thin console covering half his left forearm buzzed against his skin. “McPatrick here,” he answered.
“Sir, the Silkstream Four has arrived two kilometres off our port side. It's powering down. What are your orders?”
Oz looked at his command unit for a moment, silent.
Jason stood and shrugged.
“Your orders sir?” asked the bridge officer.
While Jason looked on, Oz's attention turned to the framed portrait of the First Light crew. So many of us are gone. Minh, Jonas, Ayan, now Jason and Laura are leaving while Command puts me out of the way.
Jason crossed the room and put his hand on Oz's shoulder. “What's the word skipper?” he asked quietly.
Oz looked up and smiled. “Get that ship on the deck and fuelled. Freeground's been looking for it and I'm bringing it back personally,” he told the bridge officer firmly.
“Sir?”
“That is an order.”
“Aye sir.”
“Captain McPatrick out,” he took his gun belt from where it had been hung by the door, strapped it on, picked up his mission satchel, then put on the dark grey long coat he had made for the senior staff on the First Light years before and headed through the hatch.
“We're not going to Freeground,” Jason grinned.
“Nope, we're joining the Triton. ”
“What about your sisters?”
“They'd rather I be far off and happy than here and wishing I were somewhere else. Besides, this might actually get them to move coreward like they've been threatening to do ever since they started drafting people for colony occupation.”
“Think they'll send someone after us?”
Oz laughed openly as they stepped into the lift that would take them straight down to the main hangar deck. “Not if they know the First Light crew are at the helm of the Triton. I just wish I could see Trajenko's face when she realizes we've taken off in a prototype.”
Tactical Officer Agameg Price
The Samson was almost back in working order. He hadn't gotten the approval of Captain Valance yet, but he had some very ambitious plans for her, now that the old ship actually had some time in dry dock. He'd be able to make the modifications in his spare time with the help of a few other engineering staff that thought the ideas were equally as interesting.
That's not what brought him to the bowels of the Samson that night, however. He had been putting something off for over a week. Like Ashley, he couldn't forget Finn. Price didn't see him in the same light, but over the short time he'd known him, Finn had become a trustworthy, easy friend. He could say anything to the mild mannered engineer.
He was a good counterpart for work, an excellent companion during off hours, respectful and he didn't treat him at all differently because he was not human. Finn would be missed, and as he looked at the Big Surprise, hidden away again in a small hold, he couldn't help but feel every bit of the loss. The large electromagnetic bomb, several meters in length, was made up of many different energy storage devices all wired in haphazardly and welded, glued or taped together.
The tradition in engineering and maintenance on the Samson was to add a piece to it once you were considered a permanent member of the crew, normally after a month or two. Finn hadn't had the chance to do so
