© Stein Willard 2024
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PART I
Captain Jules Sherwin absently responded to the greetings from her crew as she walked to the turbolift where she waited patiently with two other ensigns for the lift to arrive. She was on her way back to the bridge after a hail from Engineering took her to the seventh floor. The visit had been very depressing, to say the least. The Crusader was in dire need of a complete engine overhaul and by the sound of it, Jules had her doubts if they would make it to the nearest space station which was 20 000 light-years away.
Besides a few close calls with unfriendly alien species, their run-in with a gang of Gormah space pirates five months ago was why the Crusader was all but limping to the Cubbord Space Station. Their attempt to outrun the pesky pirate ships had placed a lot of strain on their engines, which Jules regretted more and more now. Had she acted earlier, they probably would’ve come away from the battle in much better shape. She had held back on meeting their aggression with some of her own instead of unleashing her ship’s considerable firepower until the very last moment. They were explorers first and were held to the Alliance of Planets’ directive of engaging in a ‘meet and greet’ and leaving as little a footprint of their visit as possible. When the pirates rammed the Crusader from all sides after a tense standoff to give their overheating engine time to cool off, her patience had fled with the directive close on its heels. They came out victorious in the end, although the Crusader had suffered significant damage to its hull. The lift showed up and she entered, standing to the side to allow room for the other two crewmembers. The silence in the metal box was broken by a hissed order which made her glance at the two youngsters.
“Is there a problem, Ensign Carter?”
The young woman blushed deeply as she shook her head. “N…no, captain.”
The lift arrived on the sixth floor and the two ensigns stepped off. Just as the doors were about to close, she heard the other ensign, Mallory, speak.
“We should’ve asked her.”
Intrigued, Jules pushed her hand out to break the beam of the closing door. “Ask me what?” She rarely got a chance to interact with her crew and the ship’s Morale Officer had been harassing her to adopt a more approachable management style. The ensigns were startled as they gaped at her. “What do you want to ask me?”
Ensign Mallory cleared her throat softly, drawing Jules’ attention to her. “We’re planning a Valentine’s Day event for Friday night and we were wondering if you would like to attend as our guest of honour.”
Jules almost immediately withdrew into herself. She was willing to engage with her crew during work hours, but she drew the line at socialising after hours. Her training stated clearly that she was to remain impartial at all times. The only way she knew how to do that was to build a wall around herself.
“I’m sorry, but I already have something planned for the weekend. However, thank you for considering me.”
Ensign Carter smiled. ‘We understand, captain.”
She removed her hand and waited for the door to close.
“I told you we were wasting our time. The captain would never mingle with us. I believe she…”
The doors closed and cut off the rest of the sentence, making Jules grimace at what she had overheard. Her crew thought that she considered them beneath her. Was that perhaps what her Moral Officer was trying to tell her in his roundabout tactful way? Maybe another meeting with her Moral Officer was in order.
But until then, she needed to see to her ship first.
***
The space station came into view the moment they exited jump space and Jules’ heart sank. ‘Station’ was a generous word to describe the lop-sided chunk of steel that filled the screen. They were in desperate need of an overhaul, but compared to her limping ship, the station appeared worse off.
“We are being hailed, captain.”
“On screen.”
The first thing she noticed was the alien’s nose. It was bulbous and filled most of his flat face. Deep-set red eyes studied her intently.
“Greetings, travellers. I’m Station Master Grassplot Mini of the Cubbord Space Station. Do you come as friend or foe?”
“Greetings, Station Master Grassplot. I’m Captain Jules Sherwin of the Crusader. We’re in dire need of repairs or at least parts to aid us in repairing our ship. Will you be able to be of assistance?”
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Your ship’s schematics are not known to me. May I ask where you’re from?”
“We hail from the T-CR934 galaxy and we’re conducting a study of the nearby dwarf galaxies.”
The alien’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You’re well-armed for an exploratory expedition.”
“We are new to this area of space and thought it sensible to be prepared for anything, as I would assume anyone else travelling through unknown space would do, Station Master Grassplot.” She held his gaze until he blinked. “With your permission, I would like to send a package detailing our travel logs and repair needs for your perusal. The information details our travel and first contact experiences over the past nine months.”
There was a short silence in which Jules and the Station Master sized each other up. The alien smiled unexpectedly.
“If you can pay for the repairs, you’re more than welcome, Captain Sherwin. Proceed to berth 330. My security team will meet you there to escort you to my office for our negotiation on the price.”
“Thank you. Our package should reach you before we’ve docked.”
The screen went dark and she turned to face her crew. She shared their silent scepticism, but they had four more months to go before they reached the wormhole that would take them back home. The Crusader was not in a shape to survive four more months even with the basic repairs her team had attempted to keep them afloat.
“You know what to do. Ensign Klepper, send the package. Commander Charlton, I would like to meet with you and your security team before we dock.” She glanced at her second in command. “Henry, could you wait until after my return from the Station Master’s office to discuss potential shore leave? Meeting him will give us a good idea of the duration of the repairs and whether the station is safe enough for the crew.”
“Aye, captain.”
“I’ll meet with the security team in the boardroom in five minutes.”
***
Jules didn’t trust Station Master Grassplot as far as she could heave his shapeless bulk. Luckily, her entourage included a senior engineer, who to her surprise, had been quite forceful when Grassplot tried to extort more money from them for unnecessary maintenance.
At least their repairs would all be completed within five days and while the station looked like it was falling apart on the outside, Grassplot had assured her that the place was safe for her crew to explore. By her own observations, she had noticed that a policing force was visible amongst the mulling mixed-race populace of Cubbord Station and that had swayed her somewhat in considering shore leave. As long as the crew left the ship in groups for additional safety.
The chime to her ready room sounded and she turned away from the viewport with an invitation to enter. Commander Henry Schultz entered and handed her a palm reader.
“The shore leave roster, as per your request. The department heads will decide on their rotating schedules to cover shifts for the coming days.”
She scanned through the contents of the palm reader. “Thank you, Henry.”
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll return to the bridge, captain.”
Jules hesitated briefly before she spoke. “There is something, Henry. Would you like something to drink?”
The man shrugged. “Sure.”
She ordered two seltzers from the processor. “Geoff suggested that I foster closer ties with the crew,” she said after taking a sip. “Adopt a more open approach, was his direct words.”
“What do you think?”
“The idea has its merits.”
“But?” She sighed. “Two ensigns invited me to an event over the weekend as their guest of honour.”
Henry’s brows shot up. “The Valentine’s Day masquerade ball? Are you going?”
Jules wasn’t surprised that Henry knew about the event. As the second-ranked officer on the Crusader, he was also the Head of Human Capital and Personnel Liaison. The request probably crossed his desk already. On top of that, the man was well-liked and respected by the crew and he loved interacting with them.
“I didn’t know it was a Valentine’s Day event, but I’ve already declined the invitation.”
“Well, it would’ve been an ideal opportunity to get to know your crew and to appease Geoff.”
Jules shrugged. “I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities I could be persuaded to accept.”
She could see that Henry didn’t agree, but decided to leave it there. “Do you plan on exploring the station?”
“The Station Master Grassplot invited me for lunch tomorrow, followed by a tour of the station.”
“I’ll be accompanying Loretta and the twins later for some shopping, but should be back after a couple of hours, should you need me.”
Most of the senior management team were married and had opted to have their families accompany them on the thirteen-month-long voyage. Jules agreed that it could get rather lonely in space and having your family with you was quite helpful. Sometimes with the stars streaking by the viewport of her bedroom, Jules had wondered what it would be like to have someone lying next to her in bed. Those moments didn’t last long, but the fact that they’ve become a recurring thought was proof of her hankering for something or someone. She doubted Clare would’ve waited for her to return after an absence of thirteen months. She hadn’t received any correspondence from the doctor since their last meeting a few weeks before her departure. She finished her drink and sat back in her chair.
“You go and have fun. I’ll hold down the fort for the day.”
“Thank you, captain.”
After Henry’s departure, she returned to her review of the departmental reports until her stomach reminded her that she had worked through lunch. She considered ordering something from the processor, only to change her mind at the last minute. She needed a break and a change of scenery.
“The mess hall it is,” she muttered to herself. With the lunch hour long gone, the mess hall would be deserted with the crew preparing to begin their shore leave. The moment she entered the mess hall she noticed a solitary figure at a table in the corner.
Lt Lara Kennard was an enigma. She kept to herself and as the Head of Organic Anthropology was an exemplary leader. Her department was rated top amongst all the others and their productivity numbers were phenomenal. They managed to source and catalogue over 260 000 samples of foreign biological matter and in the process discovered a natural cure for a hangover to the elation of the crew. As a tribute to Lt. Kennard, the crew had named a potent, but popular cocktail after her. They even composed a drinking song about her. Despite her rock star status, the lieutenant kept to herself.
The woman suddenly looked up and their eyes met before she nodded and returned to her meal.
Jules served herself from the food processor and took a seat, choosing a table that faced the quiet woman. Lt. Kennard fascinated her. Her input during meetings was brief and always thought-provoking. Otherwise, she remained silent and was the first to leave the boardroom.
She couldn’t help but wonder what the woman was like in private. Did she like to read? Does she like to dance? What does her laugh sound like? The lieutenant came to her feet and fed her used crockery into the processor. She muttered a curt ‘captain’ as she passed Jules’ table on her way to the exit.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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