Wings of Steele - Flight of Freedom (Book2) (3 page)

She handed it to him, “Everyone's aboard and accounted for. All repairs are complete and we're all stocked and ready to go...”

His fingers slid across the glass surface, paging through the notes. “The gangway and umbilicals are all detached, we're locked up tight?” She nodded and he handed back the e-Pad. “Good, looks like it's time to shove off then...” As they stepped toward the bridge door he paused, “So, how many bags did she come back with?”

The Ketarian smiled a crooked smile, her fangs showing again, “You
really
don't want to know...”

Steele chuckled, grinning,
“Great
...” Hopefully somewhere in all that shopping, his wife picked up something slinky and see-through.

■ ■ ■

“Captain on the bridge...!”

Steele strolled over to his command chair, catching the Marine standing at the bridge door out of the corner of his eye, unmoving, stoic. “OK boys and girls,” he dropped into his seat and flipped on his command screens, “for the first time we have a full boat
and
a full crew...” he rubbed his hands together, “feels
good,
doesn't it?” He keyed his mic, “Bridge to engineering...”

“
Engineering, go ahead bridge...” Hecken Noer's thick voice was unmistakable.

“
Light 'em up Chief, we're all buttoned up and ready to go...” The comm chimed as the connection ended. “Ms. Stacell, has Blackmount cleared us for departure?”

The communications officer turned in her seat, “Yes sir, we're all clear.”

“Excellent. Helm, take us out, thrusters one half.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a dark curl dropping to his forehead, “Mr. Ragnaar, plot us an intercept course to rendezvous with the Archer and Bowman. Once we're clear of the station, best speed.” The view screens on the bridge wrapped around to the left and right of center, providing a panoramic view. Steele watched the right side as the repair dock, gantries and station slid slowly past.

The bridge door to the corridor swished open, a low, dark figure jetting through, a glint of metal flashing a reflection. The Marines on the outside and inside of the door both lunged and failed miserably at stopping the intruder. Fritz skidded to a stop next to Jack's command chair and wagged his tail, another Marine jogged down the hall in pursuit, far behind the Shepherd. “Hiya buddy..!” Jack reached down and patted the dog on his side, making a hollow thumping noise. He smirked as he looked over his shoulder at the three Marines standing together, looking highly annoyed...

CHAPTER TWO

JUMP CARRIER, FREEDOM:
BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

The steady low rumble of the Freedom's engines was smooth and reassuring, it was good to know she was given a clean bill of health and was operating in top form. Now the task became to get the
new
crew members used to the ship, their quarters, stations and responsibilities. Forgoing the fact they were wearing the light gray UFW Space Service uniforms and not the Freedom's blue and dark gray, it would still be easy to pick them out of a crowd... the wide-eyed, lost looks on their faces, blindly searching the corridors for something familiar, like a high-school freshman wandering the halls of a new school.

With his head buried in his electronic notepad, Ensign Zwellin turned the corner of an intersecting corridor and nearly fell over the German Shepherd coming the other way. A bit taken aback, he realized the animal was not alone. “Excuse me...” it took a moment for him to realize it was a superior officer, “Captain!” He went rigid, snapping a salute, cracking himself in the forehead with his e-Pad.

“Holy shit Ensign,” Steele returned the salute, trying not to laugh, “are you OK...?” He reached forward to steady the man.

“
Uh yes, sir, sorry sir...”

“
Heh,” snorted jack, “don't be sorry, it was
your head
. You look a bit lost, can I help you?”

“
Yes sir, I seemed to have gotten a bit turned around... I'm looking for the bridge.”

Steel pointed back toward the way he'd been coming from, “All the way down to the end of the corridor, it turns right; it'll be the first door on the left with the Marine standing in front of it... You sure you're OK?”

The pale-skinned young man nodded, rubbing the strawberry welt on his forehead. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir...”

“
No problem. So what's your position, Ensign...”

“
Zwellin, sir. I'm you're new navigator.”

Oh HELL no!
shouted the little voice in his head. “Great...” he smiled weakly, it didn't even sound convincing as he said it, “carry on Mr. Zwellin.”

■ ■ ■

The new pilots had it a little easier finding their way around, their quarters being on the same level of the ship as the flight bay. Reporting for duty was a short walk,
or run
depending on the circumstances, down their corridor and through the blast doors into the flight bay. The control tower was at the forward end of the flight bay, in between the two launch tubes and the briefing room was in the base of the tower. Steele paused as he stepped off the elevator into the flight bay; it was busier than he had ever seen it. Two Cyclone fighters sat in the launch tubes canopies open, fueled, armed and ready to launch. Four more sat in the forward revetments, fueled, armed and waiting for their turn to be moved up to the launch tubes. All around the bay seemed to be movement of personnel and equipment, resembling some odd kind of perpetual motion machine. The Marines had their presence here too, at the entrances to the bay, near the tower and patrolling the flight deck. Steele made a mental note to have a chat with their Lieutenant.

Commander Paul Smiley had just finished up his briefing with all the pilots, new and old, when Jack slipped into the back of the briefing room. The training schedule for the new pilots had been hashed out and Paul had passed out the promotions for Walrick and Duncan Taylor, both of them moving up to Lieutenant JG. Jack waited until the group had filed out before moving up to the podium, “How do they look?”

Paul shrugged, “They seem to be OK, a couple have combat experience, the rest are still a little wet behind the ears, but they're sharp, I'll give 'em that...” 

Jack smirked, “I almost wish we'd kept the Warthogs to break them in on...”

Paul held up an e-Pad, “They all scored well and their instructors gave them good grades in their cockpit time - hopefully we're past the point of breaking things by stupidity...” he shrugged, “but Mike, Derrick and I will check them all out. And none will fly patrols without a senior, that's why I wanted to promote Duncan and Walrick.”

Jack nodded, “Good, don't want to lose any of these new birds to a simple fuckup.” He took the e-Pad and looked over the notes and scores of the new pilots, nodding. “Yeah, they are pretty good. Some pretty glowing comments from the flight instructors too.” He looked up, “Wasn't sure what to expect, I was hoping the UFW wasn't handing us their rejects or something.”

“Looks like top of the class to me,” Paul accepted the e-Pad back, “or pretty close to it.”

“
That's good...” Jack glanced at his watch, “because we should be at rendezvous in just a few minutes, the Archer and Bowman are waiting for us at the gate to Haruna Tier.”

“
What happened, I thought we were headed to Ossomon...”

“
We were, but there's a distress call pinging in Haruna Tier. So far there've been no replies to our calls...”

“
Pirates?”

Jack shrugged, “Maybe, but it could be routine. It's an ore miner - can't imagine what they'd want with an ore ship...” He drummed his fingers momentarily on the podium, “But we launch as soon as we come out of that gate... take all six of the Cyclones,” he thumbed over his shoulder. “Maybe ready a Zulu...”

Paul nodded approvingly, “Will do. How long's the gate ride?”

“
About eight hours, enough to get some rack time if you guys need it.”

■ ■ ■

The Marines had taken over a caged-off tool room in the cargo bay and turned it into their unit armory. It had probably originally been an armory when the ship was first commissioned as the Ynosa, but fell into duty as a simple storage room when she had been lost to the pirates. The reclaimed armory was conveniently located just outside the blast doors that led to the Marine's quarters. Weapons, parts, ammunition and armor were neatly stacked, hung or racked in place for easy access and maintenance. A Corporal sitting at the workbench, his back to the door, had his weapon in pieces in front of him. Jack tapped on the grillwork of the locked door to get his attention. “S'cuse me Corporal...”

“
Just a sec...” the Corporal hovered over his parts not turning around.

“
I'm just looking for the Lieutenant,” continued Jack, “If you could just tell me...”

“
I said,
just a second
,” he shook his head, “I'm in the middle of something...” He glanced over his shoulder, annoyed at the interruption. His eyes widened with recognition and he jumped to his feet, scattering parts on the floor, his body at rigid attention, firing off a salute and holding it.
“MY APOLOGIES CAPTAIN! NO EXCUSE SIR! CORPORAL DUNNOM SIR, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?”

Jack tried not to laugh, he felt bad, he knew Dunnom was probably
never
going to find all of those parts. He saluted back and in a calm even voice,
“Easy
Corporal, try to use your
inside
voice...
relax
. I'd like to find your commanding officer so we can discuss duty options.”

The Corporal relaxed... a little. “Through the hatch, first door on the right... Again, sorry sir...”

Jack waved his hand casually, “Forget about it Dunnom, I have.” He turned and walked through the blast door which split down the middle with a hydraulic hiss, the two halves sliding into the walls on either side.

Steele knocked on the open doorway to the Lieutenant's quarters, “Got a moment, Lieutenant?” The Marine looked up from his reading and recognizing a senior officer, began to rise. Jack was watching and ready for it, cutting him off, holding out his open hand,
“Relax
Lieutenant,
relax
. I'm just here to chat.” The Marine eased back down into his chair the e-Pad resting on his lap.

“
Doing some reading...?”

The Marine eyed the Captain curiously, “Yes sir” he answered slowly.

“Anything interesting...?”

“
Well, as a matter of fact, yes... I'm reading about
this ship
. And
you
...” he wasn't sure where the conversation was headed or exactly how to address it properly. He decided being honest was the best course of action. “It's...
strange..
.”

Steele invited himself in and sat in a chair opposite the Marine Lieutenant, “You have
no idea
... and if that's the
official
version,” he added, pointing at the e-Pad, “it's only
half
the story. The truth is
waaay
more bizarre.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees - as if he was confiding military secrets, “Let me tell you the
whole
story...”

■ ■ ■

The Freedom was in the lead position as the three ship formation neared the gate exit heading into Haruna Tier. As planned, all stations were manned, gunnery crews were in place, and all the ship's turrets were charged and ready. The only thing currently offline would be the shields until the ship was clear of the gate and free of its influence.

The Gate looked deceivingly simple, like four small points of light in a square with a touch of color drifting across the middle. As the ships approached, it became obvious the expanse between the markers was tremendous and the color was actually a giant, slowly spinning swirl of brilliant translucent colors. As a ship entered the effects of the gate, tendrils of color reached out, the swirl enlarging, dancing around and swallowing the ship into clouds of undulating, effervescent color, exploding outwards like a giant Roman candle, spilling the ship from the starless tunnel of shimmering, satiny, silver silk into the star-filled blackness of
Haruna Tier
.
In an instant, they were out and the color was gone, the effects of the gate behind them.