Space Trippers Book 1: Trippin' (3 page)

“Insubordination will not be tolerated on this ship, Ensign. I suggest you refrain from referring to your commanding General as `Warlord’. Do I make myself clear? Because as of . . .” she checked her screen, “two hours and twenty minutes ago General Gorbok became your commanding General, and I was given command of this vessel. If there is any more discussion on this point I will throw you into the brig, Ensign, is that clear?!”

Valesque was steaming now as she crouched low over the Captain’s desk, placing both hands before her on the smooth hard surface, her brown eyes glowing silver as she spat, “Let me make myself clear, Captain. I am not, have not and will never be an Ensign on any ship and certainly not on my own ship. And as for your Commanding officer, well, we will just see about that!” she seethed, “But for right now, let me just say that your taking this ship into Corseccan space would be a grave mistake, you would be destroyed in an instant. If you even made it there to begin with.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean,” Captain Fairbanks replied defensively, relieved to see that the Virrilian had at least backed off just a bit, “this ship is equipped with weapons far superior to anything the Corseccans have. It should be an easy victory.”

“Ha!” Valesque laughed, “Victory? Do you have any idea what state your weapons systems are in? Or even how to run them? I don't think you do. What’s more, I don't think your dear old General had enough time in those two hours he used to take over my ship to get you an optimal crew. Just how many poor souls did he manage to round up for this death march?” she asked sarcastically.

The Captain was not sure she entirely liked what this young engineer was alluding to. “In case it is any concern of yours, we have a crew of over two hundred and fifty. More than enough to run this ship for the short time we will be needing her.” Fairbanks responded curtly. She was beginning to get a little tired of this girl’s belligerent attitude and cross-examination.

“More than enough.” Valesque sneered. “Whatever you say, Captain. As for me, I’m getting off this ship and I’m going to do everything in my power to stop you from taking it into the Corseccan Galaxy if it’s the last thing I do. Even if I have to press criminal charges against old General `Warlord’ himself!” she swore adamantly.

“I’m afraid that won’t do you any good.” the Captain warned her, opening up the automatic blinds. “You see, we are already preparing to leave space dock. We are scheduled to launch in four hours. And believe me Ensign, one way or another you will be on this ship when it leaves.” the Captain said smugly.

The General had wasted no time.

“You can’t! You can’t do this. There is a forty-eight hour clearance rule at Tech-Labs. They would never let a ship in this condition get clearance to leave space dock.” Valesque argued.

“Well, in this case, with the war effort needing our emergency assistance, they seem to have made an exception. In addition, as much as I hate to say it, it looks like you are stuck with us. At least until we reach Corseccan space, I am sure since you come from that area you will have someone who would be willing to retrieve you.”

“No, no, no.” Valesque breathed, her eyes widening at the thought. Her people had sworn to kill her if she ever entered their space again. “You can’t take me back there! I cannot go in there. It is impossible! You cannot just come in here and fly off with me like that! Kidnapping is still a crime here you know!” Valesque reasoned feverishly, but the Captain refused to be understanding.

“Kidnapping is hardly the case; you seem to have forgotten you are an ensign on this vessel, Miss Valesque. You will be with us and since you don’t seem to have any way of getting off, I guess you will have to go to battle with us as well.”

Valesque panicked, foreseeing the disastrous consequences of that action, “Oh, no. I most certainly am not! I am not going to be a party to your suicide mission. If you all want to go and get yourself killed you will have to do it without me!” the Engineer barked ferociously. No matter what these people had planned she was not about to die. She could always find another station and get funding to rebuild the Magellan.

But then again, after this one is destroyed, it might be difficult to get any takers.

“I really don’t see where you have any other choice.” the Captain remarked. “And seeing as you refuse to be a part of this crew, you will just have to stay confined to quarters until we return to Star Base. Is that clear?!”

Valesque glared at her defiantly, “I’ll tell you what’s clear!” she growled. “You are going to die! You are all going to die! And I intend to get off this ship using any means in my power before that happens!” she finished, her temper near its peak as she turned sharply on her heel from the unnerved woman before her and strode across the room, unsnapping the power cables to the display as she stormed out the door.

The entire control crew stopped to stare as the raging Virrilian erupted from the Captain’s Observation Room. Fear gripping them as they saw her turn back sharply on her heel, pointing one immaculately manicured finger toward the Captain as the automatic doors began to hiss shut, and say, “You will live to rue the day you tangled with me, Captain, you’ll rue the day you were even born! If you live.”

And with that the livid scientist stalked out of the Control Deck, not even casting a glance upon her observers. Among whom was a young ensign in charge of Operations Command named Sanic; who had been a long time admirer of the beautiful Tech-Labs Engineer.

Ensign Sanic glanced around to assure himself there was no duty he was about to shirk before he quickly followed her out of the Command Center.

Meanwhile the Captain sat sighing relief at her near escape with the younger woman, she should have known better than to antagonize her. But she had never been one to back down from a fight. Her Irish temper always got the better of her.

She glanced down at her finger, stroking the tattooed clan ring that encircled it. Sometimes she wished the Irish-Scott colonies had taught her a little more control and a lot less contention.

She more than hoped, as she gazed out the huge observation window, that the woman would be able to get reassigned off the ship. Yet, there wasn’t much chance of that seeing as the I.P.A never changes it’s mind and especially since they were already being prepared to leave space dock.

Chapter Two: Traitor?

“Well,” Valesque began to herself as soon as she had cleared the automatic doors, “that had gone well; after all, no blood was spilled.”

But some was going to be, she thought as she suddenly sprang into action, sprinting down the corridor. She was determined to find her lost partner and give him a good going over for leaving her alone with that woman. After finding out what had gone wrong at the proceedings, of course.

Moments later Valesque was darting across the hard steel flooring of the construction bay, this was the first time she could remember being out here in well . . .weeks anyway.

Since they had gotten the food duplicators on line and had shipped in a few extra cots, she had not found it necessary to venture outside the ship and had continued working steadily on several secret projects of her own, along with her usual construction workload.

Now as she sprinted the few hundred yards to the exit door, she took a moment to scan the large open area between the ship and her destination. The ground crews were busy, almost all of the larger equipment and building supplies had been cleared away, it had to be because once they opened those airlock doors space would take care of the clean up itself.

Valesque reached the small metal door leading to the web of streets outside and flung it open, rushing through the portal and straight into the arms of a very surprised young man.

The young man laughed and then smiled broadly as he pulled her from him, “Well, hello Beautiful!”

Tim Baine was a first class pilot, in a single engine fighter, and was also the Academy’s Ace flirt.

He had what it took too: boyish good looks, gorgeous blue eyes, a smile that could set the world on fire and a casual over-friendly teasing manner that made him hard to ignore. And worst of all, he knew it.

Valesque regained her footing, shaking free of the pilot’s unwelcome embrace as she pushed her hair back out of her eyes and gave him a good hard look.

He was standing before her quite amused, dressed in a dark-grey flight suit with black striping.

Obviously some lost space jockey.

She then took a quick glance behind him at what was obviously his vehicle, a low slung highly aerodynamic little number. She was about to comment on the `no hovering’ law for this area when she noticed something else which made her glance back at him not sure which was worse: being a jockey pilot or being a jockey POLICE pilot!

Valesque looked him over again disapprovingly. “You’re with the Intergalactic Police Force, huh?” she asked in a voice of forced civility.

The I.P.F is called a policing force but it had always been more of a mercenary organization; it had loyalties to no government or solar system and would take any kind of job from any source. It claimed neutrality to all conflicts and would work for either side.

Although the I.P.F claimed to be a separate and distinct entity from the I.P.A it was actually a secret division of the military. It was the Intergalactic Planetary Alliance's way to get more money and to stick its fingers in to every crack it could find.

About the middle of the 23rd century, the Earthians had finally stopped fighting against themselves. Actually, they had been forced to stop, due to the destruction they had caused to their planet from centuries of pollution and war. The remaining nations of Earth joined to form one all encompassing military organization, the Intergalactic Planetary Alliance.

The name itself was a huge joke, as there was nothing intergalactically allying about it. The entire organization had been formed for one purpose and one purpose only, to expand Earthian control and gather for themselves more resources and more power. Planets and galaxies brought under the I.P.A were usually there from threat of violence or all out war. The I.P.A subjugated the people to their will and set up an I.P.A acceptable ‘interim’ government they could control.

Everyone joked that the I.P.F's slogan was "A friendly little division of I.P.A", that is if you consider being hit men and mercenary fighter pilots for hire 'friendly'.

Valesque was not sure she liked the idea of the I.P.F being around and she was especially hoping it was not anything to do with her or another surprise from the General.

She knew the Military had severe ways to ensure all crew members were aboard at time of departure but she had another four or five hours left at least.

The Lieutenant liked her voice, it had a very rich pleasant sound, even in the angry tone. “Yes I am . . . . well . . was, anyway. I was just reassigned, and none

too soon as I can see.” he replied flirtatiously, looking her up and down. Noticing with pleasure how her thick, dark hair shimmered with blue and red in the overhead light.

“I assume you are on this crew too? This certainly promises to be a very nice mission. Let me guess,” he continued smiling broadly, eyeing her simple green uniform and white lab coat, “nurse, right? Hmm, I will definitely have to make it a point to get sick on this trip!”

“Crew?” she questioned him peevishly, totally ignoring his impertinent question. Irritated beyond belief at his very unwelcome presence. He was obviously not here in a legal capacity. “Look, exactly who are you anyway?”

The Lieutenant was not to be dissuaded, he just shrugged, and gave her one of his luminous smiles. Maybe she was just having a rough day.

“Lieutenant, Timothy Baine. First class pilot extraordinaire. At your service.” he began with a flourishing bow. “I have been assigned to the helm of this ship.”

“Not of this ship you weren’t!” the young woman exclaimed, her defenses up, obviously not enchanted. “I think you have the wrong vessel, Flyboy. The I.S.A Magellan is not ready for commission, as I have already explained in there.” she snapped, indicating the door from which she had just emerged.

“I don’t know about the Magellan,” the Pilot replied, giving her a small sympathetic smile, feeling what her embarrassment would be at finding herself at the wrong ship. “But the I.P.A Vortex is. Which is the name written on the side of this housing bay, and it fits my orders.”

“Then the paint is so wet you could write in it.” she snarled back, not even giving the building a look, furious that the General had gotten so much past her. Maybe she should have left the ship more often in the past few weeks. “Let me see your orders.”

Lieutenant Baine casually handed over the paper he had been carrying in his otherwise free hand.

He had never refused a beautiful woman anything and he was not about to start now. Because grumpy or not he was determined to get on this woman’s good side.

Valesque snatched the sheet from his hand and looked it over in quick disapproving glances, her annoyance showing ever more each second as her fist crumpled the side of the paper in her grasp.

The Lieutenant meanwhile ran a hand carelessly through his light blond hair as he watched her, pushing back the wave of forelocks that stubbornly fell over his right eye, in the way that all the girls thought so charming, except of course for this one.

Chief Engineer Valesque was totally oblivious to the man’s charms as she scanned the document in hand. “How dare they?” she muttered angrily. “How could they? My ship! How dare they classify her as a Battle Cruiser!” she seethed, spitting out the name as if it were a piece of putrefied fish.