The Tresera — Outskirts of the Veritas Asteroid Field.
Joe’s heart raced, his breathing heavy. The stale air of the cockpit laced with engine oil, coolant, and fear.
His sweated inside his gloves them stick to the material. The darkness of space closed in around him.
He closed the canopy shield.
Pinching his eyes shut for a long moment he swooped away from the dogfight and muttered a calming mantra.
It didn’t work.
Phantom comms from his last dogfight echoed in his head.
Frantic cries, pleas for help, ending in bursts of eternal silence.
, moved to intercept He couldn’t escape the fight.
With the touch of a finger he silenced the beep warning him that his , his weapons not far behind them.
one on the portside
appeared
Nor did he
entered and, the whispering ghost cries, impossible to block out. Alone with the voices Joe moment
(distinguished from the other fighters by the computer with a small red triangle) him
they were past him
Pirates!
They’re everywhere!
Evassive manuevers!
squeezed destroyed
t
Commander, I can’t shake’em! Oh my god!
t
He’s got me! He’s got m—
Joe,shook, all the systems flashed off and on.
Then everything stopped and all was quiet.
Compressed air hissed as the canopy separated from the cockpit, letting in the light from the training room.
and the flicker of his tongue bfinished opening
Joe’chill Hisrested, , andhe
His long tongue flicked out again, tasting the air.
Joe forced a smile despite the fading echoes still in his head. They were always there, the old Mercer Squadron, all fourteen of them, but they usually kept quiet as long as Joe wasn’t in a cockpit. Being with Doctor Amy Sylar helped keep them quiet.
Blinking to bring his focus back to the present, Joe nodded toward the point board ahead of the simulators. “Don’t get too cocky. You’re dead too.”
a glovedboard B
— by t
L
tongue ,adeit
as he climbed down ths side. “You know I don’t speak Ressian.”
and leaned
at least
s, tongues flicking in short, quick motions (typical of Ressians when tensions were high)
“What are you doing here, Cog? This is for pilots.” The spite in Retoy’s voice made the insult obvious. ‘Cog’ was a derogatory term long used by pilots to jab at officers that didn’t fly the Single Pilot Ships.
“Why don’t you watch your tongue, Lieutenant, before I have you written up Conduct Unbecoming.”
rolled his eyes and unzipped the blue flight suit. He . In Ressian society that made him higher in the family heirarchy and responsible for making sure those beneath him upheld the family honor.
Usually this wasn’t a big deal as Ressian families tended to spread out. But when his younger hatchling served aboard the same ship (and shared radically different views) it kept them constantly at each other.
Then there was the whole squabble over the same female thing. That really cranked up the tension. Even though she severed the relationship with both of them almost a year ago, neither had let it go.
And Joe wasn’t in the mood for it today. “Why don’t you two just beat the crap outta each other and get over it already. This bickering is getting old.” He sat on the grated metal step second to the deck working the zipper down his leg, his arms already free. His grey tee shirt was dark with sweat, the cooler air giving him chills.
“How was it today?” Cirroc asked after a moment. Joe saw him look at the board.
“You see the scores.”
“Yes. You’ve improved.” Cirroc stepped away from the side of the simulator, squatted next to the steps where Joe sat and lowered his voice. “But how many battles were you fighting in there? One or two?”
Joe worked the zipper but it was jammed midway down his shin. The harder he jerked it the more stuck it became. “I don’t know, Cirroc,” he said, staring at the zipper, “how many battles do we ever fight at one time?”
“Whadda you know about it, Cog?” Retoy said dropping from the similator, his boots thudding on the decking.
Joe heard the guttural growl from Cirroc, the hiss with the flick of his forked tongue. One day, Retoy would push too far and Cirroc would ignore his incredible self discipline. Joe just hoped he was close enough to keep the two from ripping each other apart when it happened.
“I know plenty about losing people under my command in the line of duty, Lieutenant. Far more than you.”
“Would you two please shut up?” Joe quit fighting the zipper, planted his elbows on his knees, and massaged his temples with his palms. He had that nauseated feeling he always got after being in the similator. And it had nothing to do with motion. His hands shook, just a little. “I need to go see Amy.”
“Are you meeting her at the Resh-Ka ceremony?” Cirroc asked.
’s eyes snapped open he
“Starts in less than five.”
Joe jerked on the zipper, cussing it. Like most things on the ship the flight suits were old, worn out, needing to be replaced. It was impossible to resupply when on an extended deep space mission.
“I didn’t see your name on a duty roster report,” Cirroc said to Retoy. “Are you planning on attending the ceremony?”
“Are the bugs gonna be there?” Retoy asked.
Joe gave up on the zipper and pressed the button to release his boots through the fabric. Once the air had seeped out enough that the boots weren’t so tight Joe kicked them off.
“Don’t call them bugs,” Cirroc said.
“Why not?”
“Don’t call them bugs,” Joe echoed wihtout looking at either of them.
“That’s what they are.”
“It’s rude and offensive for one thing,” Cirroc explained. “And for another, I’m your superior and I’m ordering you not to.”
“Me too,” Joe added, this time looking up at Retoy knowing even the brief glance would let Retoy know he was serious. Retoy gave his brother a lot of trouble even though Joe was pretty sure the younger hatchling didn’t mean it all. But Joe had Retoy’s respect because he used to be a pilot and Retoy listened to him.
Joe pulled the flight suit off his socked feet. Still in their conversation, both Ressians flicked their tongues then stared at Joe, their eyes narrowed and thin-lipped mouths pressed closed.
“What?” Joe asked. Then he smelled one of his underarms. “Oh. I need a shower.”
“Yes,” Cirroc said.
“Try three of them,” Retoy suggested.
“Hey, I didn’t make you guys do the tongue flick thing.” Joe knew Ressians had a poor sense of smell but a very keen sense of taste, so advanced they could determine someone’s moods based off their smell. “Maybe this is what I’ll do next time you two start arguing; just get all sweaty and smelly. Make you keep your tongues in your mouth.”
Slipping a little on the smooth floor, Joe took off for the door leaving the flight suit on the steps.
“Have fun, Commander,” Cirroc called after him.
Joe waved over his back, almost slipping on the decking again.
He was at the door when he heard Retoy shout after him: “Seriously, at least two showers!”
Joe shook his head, giving the hatchlings one last look before entering the corridor.
~ U ~
The cork popped from the bottle of Chateau Pikardo and the crowd cheered again. Liquid foamed out the top and wet the dais floor. Captain Loftren-Kajan laughed, holding the bottle away from her to keep it from splashing her boots. The crowd chanted for a speech.
She turned to Ambassador Sy’Qu’Prawl at her left. The Serty dignitary happily extended her glass, allowing Kajan to fill it. When Kajan looked at the ambassador she could see her reflection endlessly replicated in the two multifaceted eyes on either side of the Serty’s head.
The large oval eyes sat in relatively the same position as a Human’s but angled in toward a tiny nose. Positioned between them were three smaller eyes in a triangle. The Ambassador’s glass full to overflowing, Kajan turned to her right.
Commander Joe Morris — his short, dark blonde hair shining wet from a shower — still breathed heavily from his late entrance. He looked out over the crowd and Kajan didn’t need to taste the air to read his uneasiness.
For almost five years Joe had served as her First Officer. His service was excellent, if a bit emotionally spontaneous at times. But such were Humans.
She trusted Joe to lead every person onboard the Tresera, and he had at times. Many spoke of his great motivational words in times of hardship. But he still got nervous when he had to stand in front of large crowds for social functions.
“I’m glad you made it, Commander,” she said as she filled his glass.
He smiled a lopsided grin. “Wouldn’t miss it.” He raised his empty hand to indicate a high level. “Been my top priority all day.” Kajan returned the smile.
The rest of the senior staff — the ones who hadn’t volunteered for duty shifts — formed a line in front of the dais. They passed by letting Kajan fill their glasses as they passed.
The crowd continued their chant for the captain to give a speech. When the bottle of champagne ran dry, Captain Loftren raised her hands to quell their fervor. Throughout the crowd, members of the wait staff continued to fill champagne glasses.
“I don’t know how the information got out,” she said with an obvious, accusatory stare at Joe. Joe gave his typical sheepish grin.
“But,” she turned her attention back to the crowd. “Since everybody seems to know about it, I would just like to say ‘thank you’ to all of you. A captain is only as good as her crew. Any recognition I have received that qualifies me to be promoted to admiral is as much a reflection on all of you as it is on me.”
Her eyes slowly took in the entire crowd, she tasted the pride in the air.
She could feel her guard slipping.
It was a hard balance to keep at times like this, the firm hand of a captain and the soft hand of a friend.
After the five long years of this mission, Kajan felt very close to many in the room. She knew every one by name. They were more than just a crew to her; they were her surrogate family.
“The past five years, this one last mission,” she said leaning forward slightly to acknowledge Ambassador Prawl. “Well, I couldn’t think of a better way to end my starship captain days. To have played a role in forging what I’m sure will be a very lasting and mutually beneficial relationship with the Serty Consortium is, well, more than I could have hoped for.”
The captain raised her glass in a toast. “To Ambassador Prawl and the Serty Consortium delegation, for being the first of their race to make this journey to our home.
“And to you,” she said with a tilt of her glass at the gathered crowd, “the crew of the Tresera. Dare I say there’s no finer crew gathered on any ship in the fleet.” Captain Loftren raised her glass to end the toast.
“Ah, not just yet, Captain,” Joe said, clearing his throat and not letting Kajan close the toast. He turned just slightly to face her almost full on. He dipped his head for a brief moment as though gathering his thoughts, or words. Or courage.
“To Captain Loftren,” he said raising his glass at her again. “Whose guidance, encouragement, and leadership made this crew into the finest one.” A murmur of agreement rumbled through the crowd. “To one, to all; good journey.”
“To one, to all; good journey!” the crowd roared back in unison.
Kajan kept her eyes on Joe as they all took a sip of their drinks. It was hard to believe this was the same person that had been assigned to her ship just before departing on this mission. He had been handed to her a troubled and broken young man and now he stood before her an officer – ready for his own command if he could just gain a little more self-confidence. Of all the rewards that came with being a starship captain, it was the growth of those under her command that rewarded her the most.
If indeed this crew were her surrogate family, then Joe Morris was her Prime Hatchling and star pupil.
She looked out among the crowd at the smiling, happy faces; Tullan, Human, and Ressian with a sprinkle of Serty. All so different and yet all standing together.
A familiar and unwelcome feeling formed in the pit of her secondary stomach. Her mind took a mental snapshot of the moment. She pushed the feeling away, decided to ignore it. She didn’t want to be right, couldn’t see how she could be.
It was distant, like an alarm carrying into a dream while you slept.
No, she decided to slap the snooze and savor this moment. She would worry about the alarm when it sounded again later.
This moment was a dream, a happy dream come true, that Kajan never wanted to wake from.
And though she denied it . . .
. . . she felt the nightmare coming.