“Ultimately it’s up to you, Tyler,” Kevin said. “This is your ship, and you’re its captain.”
Tyler weighed up all the pros and cons. They could use the money. But having Jason aboard for so long would be problematic. It’d take around six months to get to the Reach. And then he’d likely stay aboard through to Tau-Zeta before returning him to Odyssey Station.
“Don’t forget that no matter what’s happened, he is your brother,” came a voice from the elevator chute.
All three men turned. Stepping from it in her overalls, with her sleeves rolled up, and grease in her blonde hair stood Alyssa Rycroft. She put her hands on her hips and marched up to Tyler. Kevin’s daughter may have been shorter than him, but she cut an imposing figure.
“Any reason I wasn’t invited to this little meeting?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I knew you were working on the climate-control system. I didn’t want to disturb you,” Tyler lied.
“Uh, huh. Well, now that I’m here, you can ask my opinion.”
“We know what your opinion will be,” Conrad added.
“That must be why you didn’t ask me then,” Aly said matter-of-factly.
Tyler didn’t want her up there because she had an even softer spot for Jason than her father. Tyler, Jason, and Aly had grown up together, but her and Jason, being the older of the three, shared a special bond. And Aly always had a knack for getting her way. She’d been the sole female amongst a group of boys and men. Tyler didn’t want her to make his decision any harder than it already was.
He began to say something, but Aly cut him off. “So, now we’re all here. Where are we at? Two for Jason coming aboard.” She glared at Althaus. “One against.”
“This isn’t a democracy, honey,” Kevin told her. “Tyler’s the captain. It’s his decision.”
“Well, what’s it to be then, Tyler?” Aly stared into his eyes. Most of the time she was the sweet, innocent sister he’d never had, but other times she was the ship’s grease monkey who was like a dog with a bone.
He bit his bottom lip, knowing he’d be the bad guy with whatever decision he made. Maybe I should have sold this ship for scrap after all.
Seven
UECS Vanguard
Many new names had appeared on the Vanguard’s updated personnel files. A near fifty percent turnover of the crew. The most since the end of the war.
Nicolas frowned. The Vanguard had been a storied vessel during the Earth-Centauri conflict, full of hardened veterans who fought many campaigns. Now it was a ship of peace with a young and inexperienced crew. While Nicolas never wanted to return to the dark days of the war, he worried how things had changed so quickly. Even though he was only reaching his late forties, he was concerned that something someone had told him years earlier was coming true. Space is for the young.
A knock tapped against his door. “Come in,” he said.
The door opened, and the Vanguard’s executive officer walked into the captain’s office. Commander Ravith Perera’s face was flushed and his eyes hollow. Nicolas couldn’t blame him. He felt like hell himself. The last forty-eight hours had been grueling for everyone.
“What have you got for me, Commander?”
Perera handed him a data tablet, which Nicolas scanned over. “The last of the refit crews left an hour ago.”
“Good. What about the crew recall?”
“All personnel are accounted for. Our new Chief-of-the-Boat did his inspection of the enlisted crew two hours ago.”
In all the commotion of the last few days, Nicolas had forgotten about Chief Keene. He felt ashamed but knew the old codger would understand.
“So, I guess that means—”
“Doctor Tai and the team of Marines arrived thirty minutes ago with their package.” Perera smiled. While the commander had only been Nicolas’s XO for a year, they’d gotten to know each other well, and he knew about the captain’s past with Susan Tai. He was clearly finding it most amusing.
Nicolas glared at him. “How have you gone with the little project I assigned you?”
Perera’s smile faded. “Nothing concrete, but I found out some interesting tidbits.”
“I’m listening.”
“For starters, every nine months there’s supposed to be a crew rotation at the Orion V mining facility. The last one was scheduled three months ago.”
“Let me guess, there wasn’t a rotation?”
“Right.” Perera nodded. “It gets better. Normally the decium ore they dig up gets loaded onto specialized landing vessels on the surface of the planet. Due to an apparent issue with the landing pad at the mining facility, all ore is being transported to the haulers in orbit.”
“And their landing pad hasn’t been repaired?”
“Apparently not.”
“So no one in and no one out.” Nicolas pursed his lips. “What about communications from the facility?”
“There’s been no blackout if that’s what you’re asking?”
“Which means nothing. They could be screening communications.” Nicolas looked up at his XO. “What do you make of it?”
Perera shrugged. “A medical quarantine perhaps. Makes sense if they’re sending a doctor out there. If there is something going on, they’ve hidden it well.”
Nicolas nodded as another knock sounded at the door. “Come in.”
The door pushed open, and she walked in. Tall. Dark-haired. Deep-blue eyes. She hadn’t changed a bit.
“Hello, Susan,” Nicolas said, doing his best to be nonchalant about it.
Susan stepped toward his desk. “Captain Marquez.”
Nicolas grimaced. She’d never called him by his title. Somehow being called Captain by someone who was once his wife just didn’t sound right.
Perera stepped backward toward the door. “I’ll be on the command deck making preparations for launch.” He took one last knowing look at his captain and closed the office door behind him.
Nicolas motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Please.”
She sat and a brief silence ensued before Nicolas broke the ice. “You didn’t have to come up here.”
“I may not be in the service anymore, but I know protocol. Even civilians need to report to the commanding officer of the ship on arrival.” She stopped and regarded his office with a wry smile. “And anyway, I
