Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (47 page)

"Gribnitz?
What the hell does that mean?"

Jack
leaned back against the bar and shook his head. "Hell if I
know."
He took a sip of ginger ale. “It came out of your mouth, not
mine.”

Maria
began losing steam. "So why didn't you stay with me?"

"I'm
sorry," shrugged Jack, "but I really didn't want to wake
up
next
to a drunken lush, it just wasn't an appealing thought."

"But
we've done it before..."

"That's
how I knew it wouldn't be appealing," he said quietly, staring
into his glass.

Maria
shifted uneasily. "So who's she?" She motioned toward
Alité.

Alité
didn't want any room for mistakes here. "I'm the Captain's
personal
porter," she said, rising off the couch. "He was here with
me last night."

Jack
winced.

Maria
stiffened. "
What
?
What the hell is she talking about Jack? Did
you
sleep
with her?"

The
room suddenly felt warm. "Well I..."

"
OH,
you did!
"
she interrupted, stomping her feet, "I can't
believe
you!
How
could
you? Men are such pigs!"

"It
wasn't his fault..." started Alité.

"Shut
up, you slut!" spat Maria.

"
Time
out!
"
yelled Jack, stepping forward. "That's enough! I think
it's
your turn to be quiet and listen. You've said enough."

"But...!"

"I
said
quiet!
"
He set his glass on the bar and straightened his
tunic,
adopting a more professional posture. "Now,
sit
down!" Maria plopped herself onto the couch like an angry
child, Alité remained standing, looking very elegant, very
proper.

"As
I was about to say..." began Alité.

"I
think you've said enough too," said Steele, sternly. "
Sit
down
."
She
sat seductively on the other end of the settee and did not bother to
close the thigh high slit of her dress as it fell open. It caught
his eye and the pilot momentarily lost his train of thought. "I...
ahem, it... um,
look
,"
he said to Maria, pulling his thoughts together, "it's been
almost four weeks since we've slept together. We haven't talked
much, hell, we haven't even seen each other much. We've drifted
apart." Maria sat and stared at him with angry child eyes. He
rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, hoping to prevent the
headache he knew would come. "I don't know whose fault it is.
Yours, mine... it's really not important. The point is, the first
night we have to spend together, with any hopes of regaining some of
our intimacy, you get so ploughed, you disappear. I found you
sleeping face down in the corridor absolutely
comatose
!"

"So
you're saying this is all my fault, right?"

Jack
was about to object when Alité took over. "No he's not,”
she said gently. “But
Lord
only knows why..." Jack tried to interrupt and she shushed him.
"He moved onto the Freedom almost immediately. You waited three
weeks. Not only that, you didn't even come to see him in the
evenings. He sat here alone most nights studying the ships
systems... or with the engineers reviewing the repairs.” She
waved her hand toward Fritz. “He had no idea if his wonderful
companion would live or die... and through all that, not once did he
have any female company... but I could tell he needed it. And
believe me, there are plenty of women on this ship that would have
been more than happy to oblige him."

“
Huh?”
Jack’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

Maria's
expression had changed. She listened to Alité but she
watched
Jack with puppy dog eyes. "How could you tell?" she asked
quietly.

"It
was obvious," said the porter, standing up. "He was
lonely. He
had
all these responsibilities..." she strolled to the bar and
poured herself a drink. "He had all these people to direct, all
the things that had to be done to this ship..." She moved next
to Jack and slipped her arm around his waist. "And all without
showing the terrible pain he was in, losing Fritz and all."

"But
he didn't die..." objected Maria, indicating the dog who was
sitting
quietly, watching the conversation.

"Jack
didn't know that," interrupted Alité "I watched it
all. And
since
you didn't, I decided I would do something about it... I simply gave
him what he so terribly needed. It seemed obvious he wasn't a
priority for you..."

Maria
looked through watery eyes. "Why didn't you say something,
Jack?"

Alité
answered for him, "Because he'll put personal feelings aside
to
accomplish something. He's dedicated. He doesn't complain. But just
because he doesn't
say
anything, doesn't mean he doesn't
need
anything."

Maria
rose from the couch and smoothed her uniform. "So I suppose
this
means it's over then, right?" She wiped the tears from her
face.

Jack
pulled away from Alité's grasp and moved over to Maria. He
took
her face in his hands. "Look, I think we drifted apart long
ago, we just couldn't admit it. You are very dear to me and that
won't ever change, but let's face it, we're both takers." He
moved his hands to her shoulders. "We both need people who have
more time to give to us, than we do to them. If for no other reason,
than the duties and responsibilities we carry consume so much of our
time." It was like walking a thin line through a minefield, one
wrong word, and boom! He wanted to carefully traverse the danger
without laying blame.

Maria
turned away and slipped from his hands. "Ok Jack," she
sighed, waving her hand casually,
"whatever."
She moved to the door, not positive if she was more hurt or angry
and if it was directed more at him, Alité, or herself.

"Hey,"
called Jack. Maria turned and paused at the open door. "No
more
booze for awhile, ok?"

"Sure,"
she said, in an emotionless, monotone voice. "See ya round the
ship,
Captain..."
She threw him a haphazard salute and stepped through the doorway.
The door shushed quietly closed behind her, leaving the room silent.

Jack
swallowed dryly. "I need a drink," he croaked. Alité
handed
him
a glass of sparkling juice almost before he finished his thought.

"She'll
be alright," soothed Alité, "you'll see..."
she ran her
fingers
through his hair and massaged his aching temples.

FREEDOM:
HISTORIC LAUNCH, DEGOBAH SYSTEM

By
mid-morning, all that had to be done – all that
could
be done, had been finished, checked
and
rechecked. History could not be put off any longer. The very first
ship ever to be captured intact
more
or less,
from the pirates, was ready to be relaunched under a flag allied to
the UFW. Four more people had joined the Freedom's crew that
morning. Two were former passengers, two were former crew of the
Princess Hedonist. This bought the Freedom's total crew complement
to seventy-one. Still well below the standard crew of one-fifty to
two hundred, as Jack Steele would say, "Every little bit
helps."

The
entire crew of the raider-class cruiser, Freedom, stood in
single
file review outside the port loading ramp. The officers wore the
royal blue, double breasted, cavalry style shirts, formfitting,
charcoal gray pants, and the polished black, knee high boots. Non
officers, wore light gray, double breasted cavalry shirts, and the
same charcoal pants and black boots. Rank was noted on the collar
for officers and on the shirt cuff for non-coms, but only six people
wore the coveted pilots wings on their left breast.

Their
brass buttons glittering in the lights of the Princess's
landing
bay, the small crew was still an impressive sight. Gantarro,
accompanied by Jack, strolled down the line and said goodbye to the
former members of his crew he knew as friends and bid the entire
group God's speed and protection. As they returned to the beginning
of the line, the Captain of the Princess grew more solemn, paused in
front of the pilots and faced Jack. His full, trimmed, white beard
and sapphire blue eyes made him look a little like Father Christmas.
"Captain Steele," he began, "it has come to my
attention, that you have no medical staff on your crew. If something
happens out there, you'd be in big trouble... any medical
assistance, could be days too late. Can't have that. It's not at all
acceptable. So..." he continued, grinning, "I'm providing
you with both, a medi-bot and a surgically trained CABL."

"Can
you do that?"

"I
just have, Mr. Steele. And may you never need them." Gant
extended
his
hand.

"Thank
you," said Jack, shaking his hand, "you've been a good
friend.
I
hope we'll see you again."

Gantarro
smiled politely, "I'm sure we will. Take care, my boy."

Jack
stepped aside and his new first officer Professor Edgars,
stepped
forward, followed by Fritz and the five pilots. They exchanged
smiles, handshakes and goodbyes. Jack turned to Ragnarr,
"Lieutenant..."

“
Yes,
sir?"

"Let's
round em up and head em out!"

The
burly Lieutenant cocked his head. "Sir?"

Jack
smirked. "Get the crew aboard and prepare to depart..?"

"Oh!
Yes, right!" He nodded his understanding, "Yes,
sir!
"
He turned
to
the crew and waved them up the ramp. The assigned medi-bot and the
specially trained, CABL M7, followed the crew up into the cruiser.

The
Professor and pilots, having exhausted their goodbyes, turned and
started
up the ramp, leaving Jack and Fritz at the foot of the ramp facing
Gantarro, who stood on the pad. The old man smiled, then snapped a
sharp salute. Jack stiffened and returned it crisply. When he turned
on his heel, he proceeded up the ramp without looking back. Things
seemed to have come full circle, and Jack pondered how odd, that
every time he departed, someone was saluting him. He hoped this
maiden flight would be more successful than the last.

The
Shepherd ran ahead and was at the elevator before Jack reached
the
entrance to the cargo hold. A technician, who doubled as a Gunnery
Officer, stood in the hold at the top of the ramp, waiting for his
Captain to board. "Thanks, Mister," said Jack, as he
passed. "Close her up." The Warrant Officer nodded as he
worked the controls to retract the heavy ramp back into the hull.
Hydraulic pumps thrummed as the ramp hinged upward to fold itself
flush with the hull and seal the cargo opening. Jack glanced back
when he heard the hiss of the hydraulics and the squeal of metal on
metal, which were the locking rams securing the door. The crewman
gave him a thumbs up signal to show the door and hull were sealed
tight. Satisfied, Jack gave a wave and stepped into the waiting
elevator.

■ ■ ■

It
was good to see crew members in the corridors, it made the ship
feel
alive and vital. Fritz was having to trot to keep up with Jack's
long strides, but once he discovered their destiny was the bridge,
he galloped off down the hall, happily weaving his way past corridor
traffic. It was becoming obvious, the Shepherd was almost back to
his full physical abilities already, though some of his personality
traits were still absent.
All
in good time
,
thought Jack.

All
the work stations manned, the bridge appeared to have undergone
a
tremendous metamorphosis. Used to the quiet, it was almost startling
when Jack stepped onto the bridge, but it felt like home just the
same. As he walked across the upper level, past the science,
communication and sensor stations, Raulya handed him a comm unit.
Slightly different than the comms on the Princess, he paused and
slid the miniature unit over his left ear and adjusted the wire-boom
mic, over his mouth. Moving down the steps to the command chair, he
shooed Fritz from the seat. "Ok, boys and girls, here we go!"
He sat in the command chair and scanned the readouts on his
monitors. "Communications, give me an open channel..."

"You
have it, sir."

"Thank
you." He looked up to the main view screen which showed the
flight
bay around them, "Hello tower, this is the Freedom, we're ready
to shove off."

“
Ok,
Freedom, bay doors are open, personnel are clear, flight path
is
clear... you are free to execute."

"Thank
you, tower." Jack sat back in his chair and crossed his legs
to
feel more comfortable and conceal his anxiousness. He punched a
button on his console which would route his communications to
engineering. "Are you ready Trigoss?"

"Ready."

"Ok,
Chief," continued Jack, "we need power for the anti-grav
system."

"Gotcha.
Rerouting power from the main engine cores, to anti-grav...
now."
The lights on the bridge dimmed momentarily.

"Helmsman,"
ordered Jack, "take us off the deck."

"Yes,
sir." The ship began to vibrate as the Ensign applied power and
the
ship became weightless. "Up and holding, sir." The
vibration lessened.

"Good.
Lieutenant, retract the landing legs."

Ragnaar
nodded. "Yes sir." The heavy thrum of massive hydraulic
pumps
drummed from the belly of the ship as they worked to retract the
legs designed to support the Freedom's extensive weight. One by one
the legs thumped home and locked into place. "Gear secure,
sir."

"Ok,"
Jack rubbed his hands together, "now we're cooking. Lieutenant,
Ensign,
it's up to you. Take us out of here."

"Yes,
sir!" They answered in unison.

"Try
not to scratch the paint job," added Jack.

Ragnaar
turned from his console, forward of the command chair and
looked
at Jack over his shoulder. "Not a chance, Captain," he
said, with a smile. Steele returned the smile with a knowing nod.

Sitting
in his own chair, to the left of Jack's, the Professor eyed
his
own monitors for trouble. Jack slid out of his position and stood
up. Fritz, who had been laying peacefully between them, stood up
too. "Listen, Walt..." It felt strange calling him by his
first name, but the Professor didn't seem to mind, "I'll be
right back, keep an eye on things. Ok?"

"Right-o."
He didn't look up from his monitors.

Followed
by Fritz, Jack moved up the short stairs that ringed the
control
pit and over to where the pilots stood with Raulya and Myomerr, at
the weapons console, behind the command chairs. They stood,
momentarily silent and watched the landing bay slide slowly
backwards on the main screen.

"Pretty
awesome," said Mike quietly. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Jack
broke his attention away from the view screen. "Where's
Maria?"

"In
her quarters," answered Derrik.

Steele
nodded. "Maybe that's for the best right now." The others
agreed,
knowing what had transpired and her present attitude. "I'm
going to call downstairs and have them ready the fighters,"
continued Jack, "I need you guys to launch as soon as we're
clear of the Princess."

"What's
up?" queried Brian.

"Nothing
yet," said Jack peering at the weapons console, "it's just
that
we're kinda' vulnerable and I think fighter recons are a good idea.
I don't want to get caught with our pants down."

"It
really
is
prudent," confirmed Paul.

"Thanks,
Pappy." Jack checked the big screen then turned back, "Mike,
you
fly with Pappy. Bri, you fly Derrik's wing. Pappy, you're flight
leader, so pick whatever sweep pattern you think is best."

"No
problem, Jack." Paul motioned to the others. "Let's go get
suited
and
prepped." The pilots filed out of the bridge. Jack wanted to be
going with them, he had a severe itch to fly.

But
Jack returned to the command chair where he knew he needed to
be
until the Professor was more familiar with operations. He plopped
himself into the contoured, well padded chair and after a quick
glance at the big screen to check their progress, he punched a
button on his console, connecting him with the flight bay. "Flight
bay..."

"Flight
bay, go ahead," came the answer over his comm.

"This
is the bridge," began Jack. "Arm and prep all fighters for
launch."
The flight crew acknowledged his order and the computer beeped as
the commlink ended. Jack rotated his chair around, its console and
monitors turning with it, and looked at Raulya at the weapons
console behind him. "How long will the ship's weapons hold a
power charge if they don't fire?"

She
glanced down at the console, then back up. "Most will hold a
charge
in their storage cells for about twenty four hours."

Jack
nodded and pulled on his lower lip, deep in thought. Without
turning
or looking, he addressed his first officer, "Walt, do we have
any extra power at all to divert to something else?"

"A
little," he answered, checking the status of the generators on
his
monitor.

"Good!"
Jack turned back towards his weapons officer, "Raulya, can you
route
power
to a couple turrets at a time? Charge them up and move on to the
next one?"

She
was staring down at her console and calling up the arming and
powering
information. Whole columns of directions outlined the specific
sequences. "I'd have to change the prescribed format a bit, but
I think I can."

Steele
rubbed his hands together. "Good. Do it."

Raulya
nodded and began working on the program's format, rearranging
it
to make it more flexible and allow her the freedom to manipulate the
power to individual gun turrets. She paused, "The guns need to
be manned..."

"No
problem." Jack punched the general-comm button
on
his chair's console. "All gunnery personnel to your stations.
This is just a drill, repeat, this is just a drill. Report when at
station." His keypad chirped as he ended the broadcast. When he
spun his chair back forward, the view screen showed the Freedom was
almost halfway clear of the Princess's bay.