“Yes, well… we’re all pulling for him.” Nicolas needed to change the subject. “I trust my first officer found adequate quarters for yourself and the Marine compliment?” His mind flashed back to when they’d shared his quarters together.
Susan nodded. “Commander Perera has done an excellent job.”
“And the package?”
“It’s stored in cargo bay nine. The Marines, with some of your own security staff, will be on a rotating roster to keep it under guard.”
“It must be important.” Nicolas couldn’t help but sound a little sarcastic.
Susan’s eyes widened.
He tried to laugh it off. “Come on, Susan, I’ve been given orders to courier this container halfway across the commonwealth with no clue as to its contents. You must know how that makes me feel.”
“You’ve been around long enough to know there’s a reason for all orders. If you weren’t comfortable with that you wouldn’t still be in the service.”
A stab in the heart.
“We’re not going to dig up the past for the next six months, are we?”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do.”
An awkward silence ensued. Nicolas wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, he was saved by his ever reliable first officer.
“Perera to Marquez.”
He activated the intercom on his desk a little too quickly. “Marquez here.”
“Sir, we’re ready. Station control has given us the green light for departure.”
“Excellent. I’ll be there shortly. Marquez out.”
He looked over at Susan. “You’re welcome to join us.”
She seemed to consider it for a moment then shook her head. “I think I’ll head to my quarters.”
“Fair enough.”
They both stood, and Nicolas opened the door for her. As he stepped over the threshold, Susan put a hand on his arm.
“We’ll be out here for a long time,” she said. “I don’t want things to be like this.”
“Me either.”
They exchanged one last glance and entered the Vanguard’s command deck. Susan exited through the hatchway while Nicolas made his way down into the pit.
Commander Perera waited for him at the central command station and indicated to the readiness reports coming in. There were green lights across the board. He couldn’t have been prouder of what his crew had accomplished, rushing to get to Admiral Mueller’s deadline.
“I must pay Engineer Devers a visit,” Nicolas said. “He’s gone above and beyond the last two days.”
“I believe he mentioned something about a bottle of scotch.” Perera grinned.
Nicolas had almost forgotten. When he’d been down at HQ, he’d called up Devers and told him he’d give him and his engineering team a bottle of his prized McKinley Oak scotch whiskey, should they get the Vanguard out of port on time.
“That’s right. Damn.” His experience as a CO taught him bribery was a valuable tool to get what he wanted. But he only had one bottle left. At the time it seemed like a good deal. “I guess I wouldn’t be too popular if I reneged, would I?”
“I think it’s fair to say you’d have a mutiny on your hands.”
Nicolas glanced toward the empty hatchway, remembering the many times he and Susan shared a glass of the scotch. He frowned then turned to his first officer. “Well, we better get moving. Would you like to do the honors, Commander?”
“Ensign Xeh,” his XO instructed the Vanguard’s communications officer. “Inform all hands to prepare for departure. Helm, detach docking couplings and actuate reverse maneuvering thrust.”
Ensign Worthington ran his hands over the helm, keying in the commands, bringing the vessel to life. “Aye, Commander. Couplings detached. Actuating reverse thrust.”
The deck vibrated beneath Nicolas’s feet as the ship proceeded away from the docking network of Alpha Station.
“Turn to port,” Perera ordered. “One hundred and thirty degrees. One-quarter thrust.”
“Aye. One hundred and thirty degrees. One-quarter thrust.”
The Vanguard pulled away from its home for the past two months and rotated on her axis. The forward viewport revealed the black starfield of space beyond Earth’s orbit.
“We’re clear of the station,” Worthington informed his superiors.
Perera checked the scanners, ensuring the path ahead was clear of any vessels. “All exit lanes are open,” he said. “The Vanguard is yours, Captain.”
“Set a course through the exit lane,” Nicolas instructed Worthington.
“Course laid in.”
“Take us to one-half thrust.”
“Aye, Captain, one-half thrust.”
The Vanguard powered away from Earth and sailed past the orbit of Luna.
“We’ve cleared all major gravitational fields, sir,” Worthington noted.
“Lieutenant Kovak,” Nicolas said to his FTL navigator, “plot FTL trajectory to the Orion System.” He knew she would have already done it, but calculating the correct course while traveling at FTL speed was a precise science. No one wanted to shoot through a star or a rogue comet.
Kovak did the final checks and gave him a thumbs up. “Course plotted, Captain. FTL ready.”
Nicolas smiled. “Ensign Worthington, engage FTL drive.”
Worthington shared the captain’s giddiness and punched in the command. A hum resonated around the command deck and the ship pulsated while the tritonium and plasma reaction took place inside the Vanguard’s engine room.
Even after the last few hectic days, Nicolas couldn’t help but get a kick out of these moments. This was why he’d signed up all those years ago. In a flash the stars began to contour, twist and bend. Then in a thunderous roar, the Vanguard boomed into FTL.
Nicolas gazed over to the empty hatchway and his grin faded.
Eight
Odyssey Station
What the hell was I thinking?
Jason knocked down a shot of tequila and let it burn all the way down his throat. The bar he’d stumbled into was a damn sight prettier than The Bended Elbow. Bright lighting and flashing colors bathed the walls, while the bar stools were so soft they didn’t leave a flat spot on his ass.
Maybe I should come here more often.
The young barwoman was also a breath of fresh air. Literally. She had none of the offensive odors that Vic emitted. Nice to look at, too.
“Another?” she asked.
Not even a lecture about my
