The Loper:- Exploratory

[Amazee Dayzee]

Its heating up even more than it was before! Great work with making each chapter you write more thrilling!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 58

A short tour.

Elena stood just outside the bridge as the action went on inside and she waited patiently until things were calming down. She could hear Raven agree that they should head after the Bellaphron and the Fallir and wondered why she was giving the order when Aldair was sat at the helm. It’d be so much easier, she figured, if he just made the choices from there. She held on to the wall as they jumped to warp velocity and let the ‘shock’ dissipate before stepping onto the bridge. “Councillor,” Raven said, without turning around, “what brings you to the bridge?”
“Oh,” the Pekan said politely, looking over Zowaix’s shoulder at his screen, “mostly it’s general nosiness. Something was going on and I wanted to see what.”
“Just a pirate,” Raven remarked. “Nothing much to worry about.”
“Then why,” Elena asked, taking an interest in what Dawton was doing, “are we ‘running away’?”
“It’s a strategic thing, Councillor. No sense in having a fight we don’t need, after all. A raider came on us when we were examining an asteroid belt. It laid claim and decided to attack. Having a good wander around the bridge?”
“Well, I was promised a tour,” Elena replied, putting a mock tone of petulance into her voice.
Una leaned over towards Raven. “Perhaps you could call up the night shift helm operator to take over,”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Hawle grumbled.
“But now you have other duties,” Una persisted.
Hawle could swear he heard her wink to Elena. He had the distinct impression he was being set up. He sighed. “Only if Kaffry agrees,” he said, relenting slightly.

Kaffry didn’t mind and the Mican slipped into the seat and, as soon as Hawle had his back turned, adjusted the seat again, back to Sarah’s usual settings. Hawle walked calmly over to the rear of the bridge and spoke to Raven. “You still have the bridge, Commander.” He said before offering his arm to Elena. “Where do you want to see first,” he asked as she ignored the arm and took his hand. He gave her a smile and squeezed the hand somewhat before releasing it. “The crew would probably get confused if they saw that,” he told her, wondering if she could hear his heart beating faster.
“Right,” she replied, knowingly. “For the crew’s sake. Of course. Shall we try the medical bay first?” She stepped into line with him. “On the way you can tell us why we’re really running away from that ship.”
“Ah,” Hawle replied, “we didn’t need the fight. We told them we were only taking one asteroid and we’d leave. We held to that bargain.” He walked with Elena down the corridor. “Plus I had the strange feeling that the ship wasn’t exactly a long range mining ship, just a scout. I had a strange feeling it was going to call it’s “daddy” on the three ships that were being nasty to it. I wasn’t keen to hang around. If the Council want to send out a group to examine those rocks, it’s on them.”

They opened the door to the Sickbay and stepped in as Doctor’s Barleycorn and Fuze ran checks over their stocks after the last few days. “Hydraclorazine stocks at fifteen percent, chief,” Fuze said, putting some of the few bottles still on the shelves back. “That’s including stores.”
“I hear that,” Night replied. “We’re running on fumes on everything. Put it on the order, along with…” She turned and saw her ‘guests’. “Evening, Sir. Ma’am. How can I help you?”
“Oh, we’re just being nosey,” Hawle admitted, waving a hand. “How’re you two doing?”
Night sighed. “I think I can honestly say we’re knackered, sir. We’re not quite used to that level of work over an extended duration. We’re… not set up for it.”
“I hear that, Night,” Hawle replied. “That’s one of the reasons we needed to get that asteroid. The budget claims are going to be horrific. How’s that kid you wanted?”
“Stroppy,” Night complained. “Opinionated. Refuses to do anything I ask. Pushing the boundaries.”
“Might it help if I talk to her,” Elena asked.
Night sighed. “No, Councillor, probably not. If I’m to make headway with her, it’s got to be me doing it. Can’t tag team someone else in. She’s gotten quite used to Bazil’s clothes though.”
“Figured I’d lost them,” the other medic commented, noting the first name usage for later.
“They went to a good cause. I’ll have the equipment requests to you in a few hours, Captain, but I’d better get back to the stock take.”
Hawle put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t forget to add a few hours to that schedule for yourself, Night.” He nodded to Fuze. “Use the Munchkin here.”
“That’s Doctor Munchkin,” Night complained, a second before Doctor Fuze would have.

Their tour took in Security next, where Ensign Pulver scoffed at herself as she tried to rise from her seat in the exo-suit and it refused to take her mental command. She strained to force herself up. “You don’t need to rise,” Hawle told her. “We’re not here officially. Are you making any progress with the rig?”
“It’s… rough, sir,” she told him. “I can take about twenty steps unaided but…”
“Getting up’s a pain in the butt?”
“Literally. The Chief’s got me running the command centre coz I can be chairbound but…”
“You’re a Lappinean and you hate chairs,” Hawle finished. “The teams on Talvary and Caldera will get you up and running again, Pulver. You’ll be OK.”
She snorted. “I doubt it.”

The next location was a store room and Hawle shut the door behind them. “Why are we in here,” Elena asked.
Hawles’ response was to sit on a box of Pineapple chunks and invite her to sit next to him. “Because I want you to tell me why me.” He chuckled. “I’m not exactly in your league…”
“It’s more that I’m not in yours,” she corrected. “Even before the last few years, I never found anyone who came up to what I call my ‘standards’, Aldair. Well,” she added thoughtfully, “there was a Dober back in the day. He was a good guy. But it came to me, during the imprisonment, that I was looking for the wrong things. I was looking for superficial things like muscles and looks…”
“I have muscles,” Hawle protested, flexing his arms and not even rumpling the jacket sleeves slightly. “I’m not sure where they are, but I have them.”
She laughed happily. “See, that’s the sort of thing I should have been looking for. You’re funny, smart, brave, loyal… You’re so far beyond my level…”
Hawle scoffed and put a hand to his chest. “You saved hundreds of lives in that camp,” he protested. “And you did that without throwing a punch or firing a gun. That takes a different kind of courage to being a ‘fighter’ like me but it’s still courage, believe me. You’ve shown kindness, compassion, generosity. Time you could have taken for yourself since we rescued you – we. The entire crew, not just me – is time you’ve given over for your crew. You? Halriss, Kayle?” He put a hand on her knee. She flinched slightly but, as he made to move it, she put her hand on his to hold it there. “You’re the heroes,” he assured her.
“Never feels like it.” She looked down at his hand. “Suppose it never does to the one it’s happening to, eh?”
Hawle shrugged. “Suppose that’s right.”
She gave him a soft kiss before standing up. “So, where next,” she asked.
“Maintenance bay,” Hawle suggested.
She smirked. “Lead on, Aldair.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

I really do like the way this part of the storya! Looks like Hawle and Elena are moving closer to becoming a couple!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 59

The morning.

Groal brought himself back to the land of the woken with some amount of confusion. The bed was quite hard and stiff compared to the usual and something else was different. Why couldn’t his arm move? He turned his head and things started coming back to him as he looked on the sleeping form of Salla held close by his arm. He put his other hand on her waist and kissed her softly. He’d have to thank Mercy for her actions at some point later. She’d convinced her mother that her fallen father wouldn’t mind the two intertwining on at least a one off occasion and she’d slept peacefully after the interaction. Now she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Mornin’, Smellican,” she jibed.
“Morning, Salla,” he replied. “You OK, pretty lady?”
“As well as can be expected,” she replied. She looked under the bedclothes. “Does this mean we move on from being friends?”
He stroked her side, his hand moving under the covers. “Depends on if you think it does, Salla. I’m quite happy to call it ‘with benefits’ and help you sleep.”
She chuckled. “Sleep, eh?” She kissed him whilst draping an arm over him and tickling an ear. “We did, after a while.”
“So,” he asked, “what are you planning on doing when we get back? I mean, I’m staying on the Loper and you..?”
“I’ll be looking to resettle with my family, Karla.” She pressed against him gently. “Now that I’m well part bearing age, they’re what I’ve got. I can’t know if that’s in the patch or somewhere in the Rabbito…” She put a finger to his lips as he was about to correct her. “Lappinean worlds. But I’ll keep your number and call you whenever I can.” She shifted so she was atop him. “So we have now to ourselves, yeah?”
He sighed. “But I have to get up in, oh, an hour or so?”
She leaned in for a proper kiss. “However will we spend the time?”

Sarah Chapston had brought the shuttle back following a very short stop in flight and had retaken her place at the helm. She’d relieved Kaffry and complained about people adjusting her chair and controls. “Don’t blame Kaffry for you being so tall, Chappers,” Hawle told her back.
“Wasn’t blaming Neel,” she replied. “He doesn’t adjust it.”
“I hope you’re not saying some perfect senior officer did it,” Hawle protested gamely.
“Never would, sir. Must have been a phantom.”
“So long as it’s just adjusting chairs I don’t care. Any signs of other ships out there?”
“Apart from the other two, there’s nothing, sir,” Sarah said quickly, knowing he’d been about to add ‘apart from’ to his line. “We’re three days from the border at this speed so there’s plenty of time for them to ambush us, sir.”
“Going with a half empty glass, Chappers?”
“Just waiting for someone t’fill it, sir.”

“So what are you planning to make for your uncle,” Una asked Cedar as the chef brought over a pair of Hazelnut pastries and lemonades that Una had warned him never to tell anyone she’d ordered.
He settled into the seat opposite and put his head on his hands. “I was thinking of something simple like a nut souffle with salad and sliced Egg. But then I recalled they took all our eggs. I mean, I can cheat the souffle with powder but…” He shrugged with his shoulders and arms. “I can hardly cheat the egg, can I? Unless I want to take a White Cheese, shape that into an egg shape, hollow out a ‘yolk’ area, fill that with a yellow cheese and… It could work. No it couldn’t.”
“Well, why not,” Una asked, sipping her drink through a straw. “It sound’s feasible.”
“Haven’t got a mould,” Cedar confessed. “Never exactly figured I’d need an egg mould, after all.”
Una mock gasped and put a hand to her chest. “A top chef caught without a utensil? I thought I’d never hear of such a thing. Kuvas Maltin would throw himself off a building if he did that!”
“Yeah, well, Kuva…” His ears picked up the underlying tone in her voice. “You know Kuvas Maltin?”
She nodded. “He’s done work for my family before now. When we’ve been hosting SEVERE company, y’know?”
Cedar shook his head. “I...I… Kuvas Maltin? There’s a five year waiting list to get him. And he only works for the biggest and richest and brightest…” He grimaced and looked at her face. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not exactly done to say…”
She patted his hand. “Relax, Cedar,” she urged, “It’s the answer to all the troubling questions to some, the be all and end all to others, the route to new troubles, a boon and a curse at the same time. But the word is not something to be embarrassed by, Cedar. I just don’t hold it as that important. As for Maltin?” She took a bite from her snack before continuing. “He can make a Maldraxian Keyla to die for. But ask him to make a common dish?” She leaned closer to Cedar. “He ALWAYS ruins it, Cedar. Always.”
Cedar almost coughed on his pastry. “You… you’re kidding?”
“No,” Una said, looking like pure innocence. “I’m serious. He starts adding odd items and sauces to ‘put his spin on it’ and they always come out tasting off. I’ve had his Silvoir Playce twice. The second time because I thought he’d had an off day!”
She laughed and Cedar joined in. “Oh, never meet your heroes,” he said after a moment.
“I’m trying to tell you,” Una continued, “that you’re a very good chef who knows how to experiment and how NOT to! Whatever you choose to make for your Uncle will be excellent, trust me. Better yet, trust yourself, Cedar. And, if you want more confidence, I have three words for you.”
She fell silent and Cedar took a few seconds to give into the temptation. “Th...three words?”
Una sat back and looked regal without trying. She examined her claw tips. “I’d hire you,” she said. “And I’m rich.”
Cedar laughed again.

Sarah frowned at the readings again. “Shows what I get f’r bein’ optimistic,” she muttered, knowing ‘big ears’ would hear her.
“What’s up, Chappers,” Hawle queried.
“Our little friend’s back on sensors,” she warned. “Intermittent like before.”
“Watching us go,” Raven queried.
“Or herding us,” Hawle answered.

[NHWestoN]

You need to do an appendix cookbook.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Heh. I wish.

Colleen and Cedar is the friendship I'm actually proudest of in this. They have no 'interest' in each other, they're just friends. Probably best friends, although neither would admit it.

I was binge watching 'White Collar' at the time I wrote this. You might be able to tell. There's a hint...

[Amazee Dayzee]

Really nice job with this chapter once again! I think it needed more Elena and Hawle but that is just me.

[Welsh Halfwit]

A tale of Bananas...

Judgement call.

“Keep an eye on it, Chappers,” Hawle advised, “but keep us on this course. Dawton,” he added, turning his head upwards so he could see the Human stood behind him. “contact the others and make sure they’re aware of our little ‘friend’ out there. Advise Halriss to get Groal onto getting their weapons back on-line. We’re probably far enough from Varkonia that they won’t go back and punch the planet.”
“On it, sir.” He called the information through to the others.
“If we ever get a new bridge,” Hawle complained to Raven as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I want it so I don’t have to turn my head like that to see people. Perhaps a bridge where all the non pilot stations are down the side walls?”
“You could always rotate the chair, sir,” Raven replied.
Hawle thumbed backwards. “There’s a barrier there,” he remarked.
“No design is perfect,” Raven opined. “It’s how architects keep selling redesigns.”
Hawle sighed slightly and wished he’d gone into design. He could design a better bridge, he was sure of that. “How far are we from Council space, Sarah,” he asked, slightly uncharacteristically using her first name for once..
It took her a few seconds to register it and Sarah jumped when her brain clicked into gear. “Oh! Me!”
“Unless someone’s changed their name in the last few minutes you’re the only Sarah I’ve got,” Hawle said kindly. “How far?”
“Two days, sir,” the helm officer said. “and I know that's how long, not how far but, at this range, it’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Quite possibly,” Hawle remarked. “Any sign of our data-probe yet, Match?”
“Signal’s coming in about twelve hours ahead, sir.”
“We’d have caught it by now if we were at full speed, wouldn’t we,” Una contributed from what she’d decided was her chair. Grovan could get himself another one when he got back. Probably.
“Yup,” Raven mused, “but we can’t risk getting ahead of the others. It’s hard to escort someone from one hundred million miles ahead of them.”
Hawle tilted his head and grinned to the Ambassador. “And that was Raven also telling you why we tend to use time frames, not distances.”
Raven put on a deliberately mocking tone. “I’m intelligent, I am!”
“Have you two ever thought about going on the stage?”
Hawle spread his arms wide. “The universe is our stage, Una!”

Groal grimaced and pulled old wiring free with a crack that almost stung him personally. Given time he’d have made sure the power wasn’t running through the systems here, even in the dilapidated state it was currently in. But, after Halriss had made him aware of the incoming threat possibility, he’d seen the need to repair the power links to the topside cannons. There had been a ‘leak’ somewhere in the system the last time they’d fired and it had taken far more power than it should have done. But now that he had urgency, it was proceeding apace. He dropped the cables down to his associate and propped himself on the ladder to put the new cabling in, attaching it to the power relays firmly. He’d still need to run all the checks again in a half hour or so but these works should get the power flowing adequately. He was thrown back by the jolt of electricity and shook his head. “Health and safety would have my head on a plate,” he moaned. “Any news on those new gloves,” he asked.
“They’ll be replicated shortly, sir,” the associate replied.

“Lieutenant Keele is calling, sir,” Dawton advised as the console beeped plaintively.
Hawle waved a finger in the air. “Figured he would sooner or later. Put him through, would you?”
Dawton assented and the Celican commanding the Fallir appeared on the screen. <”Shouldn’t we do something about our ‘friend, sir,”> he asked.
“I’d rather not, Keele,” Hawle replied. “Our options are run or fight. I doubt he’s here alone after the last time. There could be a big brother five minutes behind him.”
“Or one ahead of us,” Raven cut in.
“I was coming to that,” Hawle muttered. “Which is why,” he continued at normal volume, “we don’t want you running on ahead. You could run into trouble and we wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. For now he’s sticking with us but not approaching. He’s pretty much an unwanted escort. As long as he doesn’t try and stop us, let him tag along.”
Keele nodded. <”I suppose so, sir. For now.”> The Fallir cut the line. Hawle hoped Grovan would remind him that, as the senior officer, Hawle was supposed to be the one to end calls. It wasn’t really that he could care less about it but he knew some officers, particularly a Rottian one, who’d have words with them about it.

“Where, exactly, are we anyhow,” Hawle asked Winsome a few hours later, sipping Coffee as he sat in his office chair.. “Pull up a star map, would you?” A map of the local area, as known to stellar cartography, came up on Hawles’ desk monitor after Winsome typed a few instructions. “And tell me how you got these maps?” He raised an eye-ridge at the youth.
“Who told you?” Harvey said, sighing. He knew he was in trouble.
“I’m not stupid, Harvey,” Hawle said, leaning forward over the desk. “I knew you would take more than was needed from the moon installation. That’s why I didn’t tell you to. And that,” he added, wagging a finger at the Jondahl, “is why you should have asked, yes? Anything could have been on that computer. Gawd knows we wouldn’t want an AI to sneak on board! That happened on the Kolpan last year.”
“I never heard of that.”
“You wouldn’t,” Hawle admitted, sitting back and putting his hands behind his head. “Due to Lieutenant Critchlow having a penchant for Banana’s and ordering them continually, the AI, which only had control of the replication system, decided it would be more efficient to give him all the Banana’s he wanted. In one go.”
Harvey grimaced.
“A break room full of replicated Bananas. Thousands of them. And Banana’s rot. They had to fumigate the entire ship.. Imagine if an AI got into the command systems! I needed to authorise anything like that to cover your back, Harvey!”
Harvey sighed. Hawle was probably right. “I’ll remember next time, sir,” he said.
“You got these files from an ancient alien machine on a moon installation we just raided and you think there’ll be a ‘next time’?” He leaned forward again. “We’re here,” he said, pointing with a finger. He moved it along on the axis they were travelling to a point where it crossed though a small solar system. “What is this?”
“It’s a solar system, sir and… Ah,” he said as he realised what Hawle had already pulled up from the new files. “It’s inhabited by an advanced civilisation. Capable of space travel.”
“Hmm,” Hawle mused. “And we’re going to go straight through their territory in about three hours. I do hope that thing behind us isn’t headed home...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

This is just a very fantastic story! It really has been fun from beginning to now!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Ever wonder what games Riker & Picard play on the bridge during the times there's nothing going on? I sometimes do...

Part 61

Word play.

Hawle watched the screen and the scanners intently over the next half hour. Going around this system would add another twenty hours to their travel and, frankly, they didn’t have time with their ‘friend’ watching. He hoped that the people ahead were enemies of the ones behind them, if not merely unaligned with it. Of course, knowing his luck they’d be best friends and the people ahead would owe the pursuer money. The yellow alert light strobed along the bulkheads, indicating the severity of the situation. He’d called the Bellaphron and Fallir and updated them on the situation and they’d agreed with him on a course of action as he was the senior officer and, thus, was responsible for any rooster-up that occurred. Of course, he WAS but it was more fun for him to think others were blaming him rather than doing it himself. So they were headed onwards, broadcasting in all known languages, even Varkonian, that the three ships were peaceful and just passing through. Hawle had wanted to add ‘but please shoot the guy following us’ but Una had commented that it might send the wrong message. “Any response from that system,” he asked Dawton.
“Not a dickie-bird, sir,” the Human said.
“What do avians have to do with it,” Raven asked.
“I think he means ‘Not a peep,” Hawle advised. “Which means ‘no’.”
“English is weird.”
“I’d think Canine is plutarky to people at times too,” Una said.
Hawle turned to look at her, as did Raven. “Did you just make up a word, Councillor,” he asked.
“Not at all,” she replied, “Which one?”
“Plutarchy?”
“It’s a perfectly Coden word,” she protested huffily, “We just don’t use it every day.”
Hawle turned to Raven and put a hand up to shield his mouth from Una as he stage whispered. “I think we’re having a Quillan effect on her.”
“I’d have to agree,” Raven retorted, refusing to invent a word of her own, then changing her mind. “It’s good to see her squaching in like this.”
Hawle tried to hold his face straight, as he was pretty sure the others were doing. He heard the first sound of relief from Match and waited five seconds before laughing. “’Squatching’, Sarina,” he laughed as Una allowed herself a laugh, “really?”
Raven raised her hands in mock anger. “Well I can’t think up words as fast as you lot do,” she protested. “Gimme a break!”
Hawle stopped laughing and, resuming his normal composure, braved giving Raven an affectionate clap on the arm. “Improvisation and keeping a straight face are useful traits for command, Raven. Ah,” he added languidly, “enough silliness. How long until we slow for normal space, Chappers?”
“About twenty minutes, sir,” Chapston replied, making sure she didn’t drop into the fun on an official question. “Do you think they’ll be friendly?”
Hawle wasn’t sure on how to answer her.

People arguing about the disruptions warp drive caused to to space had argued for the severe restrictions of speed in and around systems for centuries and the Council did strongly advise against using it in systems. The protestors had hailed it a victory but Hawle had his own reasons for always enacting the principle. Travelling at warp velocities was fine between systems but, in them, there was too much of a chance of slamming into a planet or moon so the three ships cut acceleration to half on the edge of the six planet system. On the Loper, Hawle opened his left eye, keeping the other tightly shut. The eye looked around. “Not blasted to matchsticks by a security system,” he asked.
“If we were,” Chapston replied, “no-one thought to tell me. Would you like to see them?”
“Of course.”

Switching on the sun filter, Chapston gave them a view of what was ahead. Three of the planets were currently on this side of the sun and the ones that were facing them were speckled by satellites and defence platforms that Match mentioned were putting out some radiological signatures, at least around the first planet. “Nuclear,” he guessed, “but I can’t tell the age.”
“Doesn’t seem to indicate they’re the people who made that ship behind us.”
“never be fooled,” Hawle advised. “Old Lappinean saying. An old Kuvak still has teeth. Why retire what’s still useful? Just add to it. Not too close to them, Chappers.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “And our friend’s here.”
“On screen.”

Some three hundred thousand kilometres behind them, the unknown ship dropped into normal space, the same as they had. Hawle noticed it was keeping back a bit further this time, possibly due to being knocked silly by the Bellaphron. It was staying with them, though, a silent escort tracking their every step. But still there was… Dawton interrupted his thoughts.
“We’re getting something from the second planet in, sir!”
Hawle sat up properly. “Well, put it on.”
A voice came through, speaking hesitant Varkonian, clearly not their first language and being translated by the computer. <“We do not wish conflict but you must not approach our worlds. We fire on any Varkonian ship.”>
“Great,” Hawle muttered, “they think the Varkonian invasion’s finally starting. We are not Varkonians,” he said clearly. “We are people who have just escaped them and are trying to get home. We cannot promise anything for the ship behind us as it is not ours. We have been trying to leave it behind but it is following us.”
<“Our weapons are capable of killing you.”>
“I know,” Hawle asserted, “I can see that. It is our protocol to travel normally through systems to avoid accidents which is why we slowed down. We will not engage in dialogue unless you wish it. We have no hostile intentions. Again, though, I only speak for three of the four vessels here. We come in peace and wish to leave that same way.”
<”Approach. Cautiously.”>
“Thank you.”

Twenty minutes passed as the ships passed by the first layers of defence. “<Do not approach the defence stations,”> the voice warned.
“We’re not,” Hawle replied.
<”You must tell your other ship.”>
“What other..? The Bellaphron and the Fallir are wi…” It dawned on him who the voice was talking about. “That other ship is NOT with us,” he warned. “It’s intentions are unknown but it HAS been hostile!”
Dawton called out. “The mystery ship has sent a transmission,” he warned.
“And I bet it said ‘This is ours’,” Hawle warned as Match warned that the defence platforms were powering up.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Wonderful work as always! Lets se ehow they get out of this!

[Welsh Halfwit]

(As I didn't post last night.)

Sometimes, even Hawle has had enough...

Part 62

Encounter.

“Take us to three quarters thrust,” Hawle ordered. “Shields up. Do NOT charge weapons. Dawton, send that to the others, then connect me to them and that ship!”
“On it, sir,” the Human replied before telling him that he was on.
“Stand down,” Hawle ordered, “do not engage…”
<”It is ours,”> the voice declared. <”We have declared it.>”
“But you…”
<”No ships will be allowed to pass our space if we are attacked,”> the other voice declared. <”You will all be fired on…”>
Hawle gritted his teeth and raged quietly. “Very well,” he said tightly. “Fallir, Bellaphron… If that ship does not back down now, the order is given. Break and do whatever is needed to destroy that ship. I’ve had enough of that thing. Chapston,” he spat, “turn us about. Attack pattern Delta-Lapis. Red alert. Weapons to full power. Halriss, I hope you’ve remembered to run emergency room drills!”

On his bridge, the Osirian looked up to where the speaker was. His throat undulated slightly as he swallowed. “It iss underway,” he rasped as the alarms blared. His crew – he couldn’t yet think of any of the non warriors as civilians just yet – were hustled into secure rooms along the length of the inside. He knew there would be crying infants and elders trying to hold it together as they did their best to hurry to the shelters. He had to trust that they knew the principles. He didn’t have enough volunteers for anything akin to a trained security force. The medical people were going with the non combatants as he wasn’t risking any of them. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to turn to face the pest so he’d asked Groal to get the lesser, rear facing, directional turrets online and had smirked when the Engineer had replied that he’d been working on them for the last few hours anyhow. With no torpedoes for the rear launcher, he wasn’t sure how much use the old ship would be but he intended to try. Even if the shields weren’t totally up to spec.

“About time,” Lieutenant Keele muttered as the order was given and the comm-line dropped. The Celican had that look in his eye as he ordered the turn on Attack plan Beta. “We should have dealt with this thing a long time back!”
“Easy, sir,” Grovan said, knowing the Junior Officer was the officer commanding, “Commander Hawle has never been one to look for a fight. He was hoping to…”
“Get back to Council lines where we had more back up,” Keele finished. “I get that, Grovan, I really do. But it’s a relief to finally stop running and confront the enemy. Something to get my teeth into.”
“At least let the Loper fire first,” Grovan advised. “He may try to get that to see sense one more time.”
Keele grumbled. “He IS the CO… Stand by on firing.”
“Got it, sir,” the weapons Officer replied.
“Use ‘aye, sir’ when we’re at combat stations, Joply, Actually, it goes for all of you.”
He waited for ‘aye, sirs’. They didn’t come. Keele figured he’d work on that later.

“Are our new hosts still powering weapons,” Hawle asked Match.
“Absolutely,” the Raitchian remarked. “According to scanners they’re targetting everyone up here.”
“Lovely. Right.” He slapped his hands together. “Calling the unknown, bloody minded, cling-on! Back off NOW or you will be destroyed! They’re targetting all of us and we have a thousand lives aboard. If you think I won’t sacrifice you for them you are very much mistaken. End communication.”
“He cut communications thirty seconds ago, sir,” Dawton advised. “He didn’t get any of that.”
“What?” Hawle turned to his comms officer. “None of it,” he demanded in an exasperated tone. “I do my best threatening tone for months and he didn’t even hear it? Did you record it?”
“Aye, sir.”
Hawle waved a hand. “Then send it the recording!” He turned back to face the front of the ship. “Give her five seconds to…”
The unknown ship opened fire on the weapons station.
“Or just shoot it now!” He took responsibility from Dawton and used his armrest controls to open a channel to the others himself. “All ships, open fire!”

Down in the computer bay, Winsome turned from one computer to another, trying to lock down a signal he’d been picking up over the last few minutes. He wouldn’t even have noticed it but he’d found it in the background the last time the mystery had been in the area and had been waiting for it to reappear. It struck him as a computer program of some sort so he’d readied the isolated system to try and catch it. To try and decode it using the language packs installed. Mind you, he was really doing it because he hoped there’d be a ‘shut down’ command he could use to turn the ship off and, thus, be the hero for once. It held some allure. He kept working, suspended in his gyroscope with the terminals as the ship shook and twisted around. The thrumm of weapons fire pulsed through his ears in the otherwise silent room. “I wish people would stop trying to kill us,” he complained to no-one in particular, “it’d make getting on with them so much easier!” He glanced around, as though checking he was alone, “That’s me talking to myself then. Going mad, Harvey,” he asked rhetorically as he tried to lock down the signal. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Delta-Lapis essentially pushed the Loper forward and down so she could come up underneath the enemy. With her doing that, the Fallir coming in from starboard, the Bellaphron just shooting straight and… whatever the weapons platforms were preparing to do, Hawle hoped the mystery would be unable to decide on a target and used that to his advantage, targetting one of the enemy’s weapons emitters with his fire as the Fallir targetted the other side. The Bellaphron’s rear cannon fired, striking the ship’s shielding from the front as the others struck at their targets. The ship fired, striking the Fallir’s shields a blow that shook the smallest vessel in the conflict as another weapons array targetted the Loper. Chapston twisted the ship tightly so the shot scorched along the underside of her energy fields as the weapons officer attempted to regain the target lock.
“She’s firing a torpedo at the Bellaphron,” Match yelled.
“Divert to intercept,” Hawle ordered and Chapston brought the ship around. Hawle wasn’t gambling on the big ships’ anti missile defences being on-line so the Loper turned it’s back on the target, thus becoming one of it’s own as Chapston did her best to keep the ship intact. Shots slammed into her shields as the weapons officer did his best to target the missile. Finally he got a lock and the missile was detonated some ten thousand kilometres from target. The blast wave stunned the ship itself with its impact, juddering Hawle to his bones as lights flickered around him. “Shields at sixty percent,” Match advised, after picking himself back up from the floor. “Defence platform about to fire… I think!”
“Put us back on the attack,” Hawle demanded, shortly before the weapons platform finally opened up with a missile barrage, aimed towards the attacking ship and any ship that stood between them.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Then I guess this is a lesson to NEVER push him to the breaking point then. Good chapter!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 63

Power down.

“Move us between the Bellaphron and those missiles, Chapston,” Hawle ordered, “and put full power to the anti-missile guns!” He jabbed at the inter-ship comm as Sarah brought them in beside the Explorer ship. “Fallir, keep on the attack as best you can! There’s a possibility these things are nuclear so only fire on them if you have to. Let them pass you by if they’re going to miss.”
The anti-missile guns began to warm up…

...and Hawle had them hold fire as the missiles altered course around them, giving the three ships something of a wide berth whilst proceeding towards the other ship. The hostile fought to evade the incoming but, with the Fallir swooping to attack in a pattern that Hawle recognised as one of Grovan’s, it wasn't going to be able to. “Fallir,” he warned, “back off. There’s going to be quite a lot of EM in a few seconds! Hawle to Bellaphron, Care to join us in a quick step?”
<”Groal here,”> the Engineer replied from the big ship. <”We’ll follow your tail, sir. Quick.”>
“Full ahead, everyone! Let’s continue on our way!” As Chapston engaged the engines to push them away from the impact zone…

...and lurched forward as the effect of several missiles smashed into the unknown ship’s shields. The lights dimmed and went dark as the viewscreen fizzed into static and noise in the wave that shuddered the ship and Hawle’s teeth. He fancied he bit his tongue but his seat restraints had kept him in place. “Sound off,” he called into the pitch.
“Chapston present,” Sarah called at the same time as the weapons officer.
“Match Present!”
“Dawton present!”
“I don’t answer summons like that,” Una replied, haughtily.
“Raven present. Anyone got a light?”
“Engineering should have the lights back on shortly,” Hawle advised, fishing an emergency glowstick from his bandolier and activating it. The light it gave out was, frankly, a bit pathetic but he knew that Raven’s Feline eyes would be able to use the washed green glow to see every aspect of the bridge so she could react to anything.
“Match’s cup is floating.”
“So gravity’s shutting down,” Hawle muttered. It confirmed his feelings of getting lighter. “Life support might not be far behind unless…” The lights flickered and started to come back on in a red hue. “Ah, here we go. Back up’s are working. Thankfully Groal got the Bellaphron’s back up’s powered too.”
“And I charged the Fallir’s,” Raven added, her pupils beginning to reshape to the new level of light.
“No-one seems to be shooting at us,” Una said to a chorus of groans. “What?”
“You jinxed us,” Hawle complained.
“But I was touching wood,” Una protested.
Hawle looked at her silently, as though he was doubting her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old fashioned pencil, wiggled it and put it back. “Lucky charm,” she said. “Always helps with ‘touch wood’.”
“Ah,” Hawle nodded as Match reported his terminals were back online and the shields were re-charging.
“Good news but get me visual,” he ordered. “And comms,” he added as Match’s cup fell to the floor and cracked.

Down in the security room, Jaqui looked in on her prisoner. The field had fallen but there was no sign of Tastan as she stepped in so she drew her baton and called Hav, just in case. She stepped further into the brig area. She turned to the Feline as he stood against the wall. “There’s not exactly much point trying to run,” she warned, her baton ready to strike.
“I was just thinking that,” Tastan replied, trying a disarming smile that didn’t quite work. Jaqui indicated to his cell as Hav appeared to block the door. She let him walk under his own steam. “The power will be back in a few minutes, Tastan. Until then we’re not shifting from here. Not having you running around.”
He cried out as the field reappeared whilst he was walking through, scorching his trailing hand to an extent that made Jaqui wince. “Hav,” she declared, “get the medical kit.” He passed it in before Pangal disengaged the field and stepped through.
Tastan stood against her. She looked him in the eye. “Sit. I’ll treat that hand. Don’t sit and I’ll make you. Then the Doctor’s can deal with ALL your injuries.”
It looked like the Lieutenant was ready to argue the point for a few seconds but he decided against trying and sat down. Jaqui manacled his free hand to the wall bar and set about putting the knowledge she’d gotten from Night to good use, using the regenerator to speed up his natural healing. He had no claws to pop but Jaqui could feel him flexing as though trying. She understood the impulse and turned off the device. “Pain’ll fade,” she announced as she stood up and uncuffed him. She stepped through the aperture and hit the button to ‘light it up again. “I’ll ask a Doctor to check on you.” She looked to the roof. “Soon as they’re done saving those with pacemakers...”

The viewscreen fitzed and spat back into life at around the same time as comms came back on line. “Any news from the Bellaphron or the Fallir,” Hawle asked.
Dawton held a hand up, indicating he needed a moment. “I…” He put his hand to his console as the other one held his ear piece in place. “Bellaphron’s coming through,” he confirmed. “They’re reporting their EM shielding was effective at turning some of it back but their engines are damaged. Groal says he can repair them but they’re going to need a little help to move.”
“Wonderful,” Hawle replied, “like we’re not moving slowly enough! Anything from the Fallir?”
“Nothing yet, sir.”
“Life support is failing over there, sir,” Match added.
Hawle nodded. “Raven, get an engineer team over there. Sort out the damage. Again.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to get a team to the Bellaphron too,” Una asked.
“They have Groal,” Hawle reminded her as Raven told Dawton which engineers she wanted and left for the teleport bay “Plus I’ve only got ten engineers! I don’t want ALL of them off the ship! At least that thing looks dead,” he added, gesturing to the aggressor ship on screen. He frowned slightly. “Dead but disturbingly intact. That’s annoying.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Looks like Hawle follows the rule of there being no kill but overkill. Awesome work!

[Welsh Halfwit]

In space, the dark doesn't have to wait for night.

Part 64

Caught in the dark.

Harvey Winsome scampered at speed along the passageway on all fours in his urgency to reach the bridge. He hadn’t waited for Dawton to get comms back up and running and he wasn’t stopping to press his link now. He’d glimpsed Raven heading away but he couldn’t stop for her. He picked himself up to his full height on the lip of the bridge and strode in as though he’d been in no hurry. “Permission to enter, Captain,” he asked politely, despite the fact that he was already on the bridge.
“Belatedly agreed, Harvey,” Hawle replied. “What’s the hurry?”
Harvey made his way to stand in front of the Captain. “It’s a drone, sir,” he said simply.
“What is,” Una asked, “that ship out there?”
Harvey nodded. “Yeah, yes.” He coughed slightly. “I found an underlying signal hidden in it’s transmissions. It’s operating at near impossible range but it’s definitely a drone. There’s engines, weapons and I don’t think there’s anything else over there.” he pointed at the screen, “It’s dead because whatever happened scrambled it’s… what DID happen, by the way?”
“Nuclear explosion,” Hawle said. “About ten to fifteen missiles hit it’s shields.”
“Huh,” Harvey shrugged, the tip of his tail swishing behind him. “First missile detonated the rest before they hit. Silly sods.” he shook his head. “We need to scramble it’s communications before they reacquire it.”
“That’d be good,” Hawle agreed, “but ship to ship is down and we can’t keep it jammed without keeping it with us and we’ve been trying to lose it for the last two days.”
“Never said I knew all the answers,” the Jondahl professed, “just that I know a few more questions than you had.”
“Good work, Harvey,” Hawle said. “Dawton, see if you can jam that thing’s signals. But get Maze to launch first. We need a relay to the other aliens and, as of now, she’s it. Harvey, can you…” He looked back to the youth and saw he was looking around, craning his neck to see as many of the consoles as he could and the light set into the roof. “Harvey, is this the first time you’ve been on the bridge?”
“Uh, never been needed before, sir. It’s quite bright up here.”
“No, it isn’t. Your room is just darker.” He pointed to a console. “Use that. Get Maze’s communications set up linked to ours so we can send and receive without her having to do it.”
Harvey clicked his fingers. “On it! When was this console last used?” He zipped across to the console and pretended to wipe dust off it. “I’ll have it done in a preton!”
“How longs a preton,” Dawton asked.
“Half as long as a crouton,” Harvey replied, tapping away on the console.

Night Barleycorn had needed to comfort her young house guest quickly as the lights had gone out in her room and had managed to hold the teenager as she’d struggled and cried against the dark, silent, void, stroking the back of her head and making quieting noises even as she felt the pain of Rakell digging her claws into her back and side. “It’s O.K., it’s O.K.,” she repeated until the lights started to come back on. In the red glow of the initial, emergency, lighting, the cross-bred girl came back to herself, apologised and relaxed her grip on Night.
“That’s all right too, Rakell,” Night said, wincing.
“I cut you,” she replied, her voice strained and a little deeper than usual for a Vixen. Night figured it was the Varkonian gene influence on her vocal chords giving her more of a bass tone. “I’ll get the… uh…”
“Medikit,” Night finished, giving her charge a little grin. “Thank you.” The girl hurried over and got the pack, including the disinfection pads.
“Do you think they’ll find any relatives for me at the station,” Rakell asked as Night disinfected the wounds, trying not to seethe against the pain.
“It’s… possible,” Night agreed.
Rakell looked up at her, her eyes looking quite large, even in the gloom. “You think they’d want me,” she asked.
Night put a hand to her ward’s cheek and stroked it as she began repairing the wounds. “Celican’s take pride in family,” she said. “Of course they’ll want you, sweetheart. You say you’re good at hunting?” Rakell nodded. “Celican’s also value that.”
“I think…” she sniffed. “I think I’d like that…” Her ears dipped backward. “Not that I don’t like you, of course…”
Night laughed and tapped her on the nose. “I know that, Rakell. Tell you what, I’ve got time off coming after this. If they find anyone? I’ll go there with you, ‘kay?”
The girl nodded again, then hugged Night and gave her a lick on the cheek.
“Now,” Night said, padding down the dropped blood before getting up, “I have to go check everyone else is O.K.” She inclined her head. “Wanna come?”
Rakell decided she might as well and stalked after Barleycorn as the door opened to let them out.

Cally, on the other hand, stayed happily reading an old paper comic Hav had left behind for her. Salla and the teachers had started getting the cubs and kits trying to read and, after the lights went out, she’d simply found the little wind up light Hav had left for her in emergencies and wound it up. Her feline eyes had adjusted so she could see things properly and she’d curled back up in the bed and read on.

Dawton took advantage of the information Harvey had sent over and worked on locking on to the transmission frequencies this ship seemed to operate on. It was tricky work but he was blotting the entire area of the spectrum out, which jammed every signal around, bar the one linked to the ship’s systems, which was Harty’s ship. Winsome's' work, he noted, had connected the fighter to act as a direct link. The Flight leader was now a remote speaker, so to speak.

“Can anyone hear me,” Hawle called, after telling Dawton to link them up.
<”I can hear you,”> Maze responded from her cockpit. <”Transmission running. I’m not liking the things scanning me but I’m transmitting as ordered.”>
<”We hear you,”> the other voice said.
“We have found that the hostile ship is being operated by signals from a far off location. We know how to block it but we cannot stay here. We can tell you how to block the signals. We are still looking to pass through without incident.”
The line held silent for a number of moments. <”Send us the data,”> the voice said. <”Then pass quickly and do not deviate.”>
“Our engines have been damaged by your attack…”
<”Pass through,”> the voice repeated as Hawle ordered Winsome to send the information. Then the line cut off.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Incredibly well-written! You do have a knack for making each chapter very thrilling!

[Welsh Halfwit]

And yes, if you've seen the Masters of the Universe movie, that WAS a reference from Harvey.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I haven't actually but thanks for telling me.

[Welsh Halfwit]

If the medal trick worked for morale once...

Part 65

Meals and Medals

The night passed as they proceeded at half speed through the solar system, keeping well away from the weapons systems and planets as they went. It had taken Raven and her squad a half hour to get things back on line aboard the Fallir and the clipper had managed to catch them up quite quickly so Raven and her squad could return to the Loper. The Lieutenant in charge had expressed his frustration at the situation but Groven had reassured him that there was nothing more he could have done. The Collian hadn’t quite made his mind up about Keele, as to whether he should be put back on duty with a ship that had a councillor or if he should be put into a professional care home for a short while. He’d decided that it would be more than it was worth to tell more than his experiences in the reports he’d have to fill in. Then let it run. He did find he quite liked looking at the Loper from the outside.

Morning came and Hawle yawned himself awake. He was flat out atop his bed, still wearing his uniform from the rather hectic last day, and his head was at the foot end. “Hmm,” he told the ceiling, “time to get up. Whenever it is.” With a ‘hup’, he flipped his legs over his head and pushed with his arms to clear the bed and land on his feet. “How come,” he mused, “I can only do great athletics when no-one’s watching?”

Ten minutes passed, cleaning teeth, washing ears and freshening up in the bathroom before he made an exit. Hawle then turned around, went back into his room and put his boots on. Then he left again and headed for Una’s room. He knocked on the door and, after a moment, it opened to reveal the immaculate junior ambassador in her flowing robes suit. “you’re looking amazing as usual,” he said.
“How gracious.” Una stopped. “Why did you knock and not use the door comm?”
“Well, I prefer the rap.”
She looked at him and grinned. “Close to being full of it,” she told him.
Hawle mock gasped in surprise. “That’s a very low class joke,” he complained.
“The privilege of being high class, dear Aldair,” she told him as they arrived at their destination, “is that we can, effortlessly, pretend to be low class when needed. Low class cannot pretend to be high class.” She poked her tongue out at him. “Class can always tell,” she finished.
Hawle chuckled and opened the door.

The pair walked in on Breakfast in full flow, with Kirkwall just plating up the last few orders before resting as Hawle subtly locked the door behind them. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Captain, Colleen,” Cedar professed as the officers took their food to their tables.
“I’ve been hearing things about you, Cedar Kirkwall,” Hawle declared intently. “Front and centre, please?”
The chef gulped and wondered what he’d done wrong as he took his spoon and made his way to the middle of the suddenly quiet room. “Wh..what..?”
“We’ll get to that, Cedar,” Una cut in.
“Chef Kirkwall,” Hawle said sharply. “You have been on this ship less than a month and, in that time you have managed to use nearly our ENTIRE stock of foodstuffs and produce, thus causing immense damage to our operating budget for the next few months and forced us to head back to pick up new supplies early, thus invoking more costs for docking fees.” he did his best to look stern. “You have inconvenienced this ship…” now he broke into a grin, “...by cooking above and beyond the realms of sanity. Over seven hundred meals cooked and not one case of poisoning.” he wagged a finger. “Night Barleycorn is very disappointed. She had a new stomach pump she wanted to try out and you denied her that chance! Now,” he told the relaxing (but confused) figure, “I have no clue if the cheffing world provides accolades for such things but we’re a bit strange on the Loper so you can be sure WE do!” He gestured for Una to step forward and take over.
“Chef Cedar Kirkwall,” she told her friend as she took a small, oblong, box from her pocket, “for services above and beyond the confines of your official duties and your competence in extreme circumstances, it is my distinct honour to grant you the inaugural recipient of two new awards specific to this ship. She turned the box towards her so she could see what was in it and he couldn’t. On opening, she took out a small pin icon of a battered white spoon with a small spot of food on it which she pinned to his left lapel. “The order of the greasy spoon,” she told him quietly, with a smirk before taking a much shinier one – without food markings – from the box and pinning it to his other lapel. “And the order of the Silver spoon.”
“Of course,” Hawle added as Kirkwall laughed and shook his friend’s hand, “the order of the Silver spoon is the one to shoot for. Ship’s tradition, starting today, is that only goes to a ships HEAD chef. I logged the promotion. It’ll go through as soon as we get back, Cedar.”
“Does…” Cedar swallowed as his brain swam under applause from those around him. “Does that mean I can hire another Chef?”
“Oh, heck, no,” Hawle retorted. “There’s no budget for that! But you can train a crewman if you like. That won’t cost me anything.”
Cedar found he had to laugh. “At least the pay raise’ll help,” he declared, hopefully.
“Of course,” Hawle remarked slyly, “I can’t guarantee you’d be a head chef if you left…”
Not quite knowing why, Cedar saluted, hitting himself in the head with the wooden spoon. “Ow. Good job I’m staying then, isn’t it?”
“I’d say drop the salute before you hurt yourself but that’s a bit redundant. “I WILL say veggiebites, Omelette and Coffee’s asap. If you know what I mean?”
“Aye, sir!” Cedar hurtled back to his work as Hawle unlocked the door and took a seat opposite Una. “Three weeks and he’s been promoted, helped rescue a thousand people and found his uncle.” Hawle tutted. “I hope he doesn’t take long to get used to boredom.”
“If he does,” Una commented quietly, “he’ll get offers from some top quality restaurants.”
Hawle quirked an eye ridge. “Oh, aye?”
“Well, I can assume, can’t I,” Una declared, with a little haught in her tone. “And, possibly, affect the outcome.” She wavered a hand above the table. “Little bit.” She allowed a touch of a smile to come through. “One looks after one’s friends. And doesn’t tell them.” She looked at him properly. “And you and Councillor Davees,” she asked. “How’s that going?”
“It’s not. Yet,” Hawle admitted. “I like her quite a lot but I need to know if she’s staying in the area first.”
“Ask her,” Una urged. “Ask her to stay and she will.”
“Yeah,” Hawle said, “but that’s staying for me and it may not be right. There’s plenty of room to grow here, in the patch, but it can’t be reliant on one Commander beginning to love her.” His ears flopped over as he put his head on the table. “Like her,” he told the metal.
“I never heard otherwise,” Una remarked, clearly lying as Cedar brought the food over and breakfast commenced.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Looks like the Hawle/Elena trip is in the final stages of beginning to take off! I can't wait for them to actually go steady!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Heading towards the finish line... Quads are referred to as data storage limits in Star Trek.

Part 66

Out of the system.

“Two days to travel through a solar system,” Elena asked as she sat in what Hawle was surprised to find he regarded as Una’s seat. “Are we setting a record for the slow march?”
Hawle had the dignity to look affronted. “They told us to pass through quickly and we’re doing so.” He put a hand on his chest. “I’ve kept to that promise, maintaining best speed through normal space, not talking to our hosts nor going too close to their planets.”
Elena chuckled. “But did you tell them that quarter speed was our best speed, Commander?”
“Well,” he conceded, “when I said ‘best speed’, I mean best for us to collect every scan we could. Passively, of course.”
Elena nodded and tried to look serene. “Of course. It wouldn’t do to tick them off. What do we know about them?”
“Well, for a time we figured they were blue with white hats from their television transmissions. But, apparently, we were watching some animated program that just looked like real life, indicating that their computer graphics are very sophisticated. We came within minutes of starting to call them ‘Smurphs’,” he added, glowering at Chapston’s head. “But it passed. Turns out they’re called the Salvanians and they’re kind of like the Osirians but with feathers and not entirely unlike the Varkonians. Doctor Fuze muses that they may have had a common ancestor a few thousand years back.”
“Now I want to meet them less,” Elena mused, Hawle patted her hand before realising he was doing it.
“They were adamant we weren’t crossing their space until we convinced them we weren’t Varkonians,” Hawle told her. “From what I can tell – and what Una has said – they’re a little more advanced than the Varkonians. They’ve started exploration but only of their local systems. Still in the age of heavy radiation weapons, of course.”
“Yeah,” Chapston said, despite the fact that there was no way she was listening to the conversation between her Captain and the Councillor. She rubbed her arm where the anti radiation injection had been given.
“Did you say something, Ensign Smurphette,” Hawle asked.
“No, sir. We’re still pointed towards home and half an hour from the edge of the system.”
“Right ho. Onwards, ever onwards,” Hawle remarked.
Elena considered Hawle’s face for a moment, the slight tinge of a frown and the minor cut from his ear that gave it a small twist. The eyes that didn’t quite match his smile. “OK,” she said eventually, “what’s wrong?”
“Hmm?” The hint of worry vanished in a curl of the lip. “Oh, nothing. I’m just wondering about the other shoe again. That drone ship…”
“I hope we’ve seen the last of that. Five dead on the Bellaphron due to having pacemakers fitted.”
“And she got off lucky there. Her secure areas had walls thick enough to protect those in them. But I’m just hoping that, at worst, I’ve set up a new problem for the Salvanians and not a recurring enemy for the Council!”
“Do we have recurring enemies,” Elena said, sitting back in the adopted chair as Raven came back from break.
“Pirates,” Raven said languidly, “Balbury, Captain Postain, the finance department…”
“Like any moderately maverick officer,” Hawle confessed with a grimace, “I have more enemies on my side than on the other. They’re just not the ones shooting at me.”
“Ever thought about calming down?”
Hawle looked interested. “For what?” He spread his arms. “I HAVE the command I want. I have the crew I want – even Match...”
“Honoured to be part of the madness,” the Raitchian cut in.
“...who several Divisional Officers said was too much of an independent thinker to be of any real use to a science department. It made him perfect for a Bridge science officer so I took him on.”
“...and I only accepted because I own some property in the Patch and figured I could visit it from time to time.”
Hawle twisted to look at the Raitchian. “Some property?” He tutted. “You own a moon, Match.”
The scientist held his finger and thumb up. “Small moon, sir.”
“Still a moon.” He twisted back around to face forward.
“You really are like a family, aren’t you?”
“He’s the mad uncle,” Raven said, thumbing to Hawle.
“Does that mean Grovan’s your brother?”
Raven thought long and hard about the dependable Collian she considered something of a friend before she replied to that. “He’s more of a cousin,” she remarked. “One that you like but keep forgetting to call.”
Hawle nodded. “Just how he prefers it. Cuts down on disturbances. Dawton, get onto the others and make sure they’re ready to Rabbit as soon as we get clear of the system, yeah?”
“Rabbit, sir?”
“Yes. Chapston tells me it’s Human for ‘run like heck’?”
Dawton smiled. “I believe it is in Britain, sir.”
“Well, they are civilised. And anti-Rabbit. Anyhow, send the message.” He sat back and spoke to Elena again. “Space exploration is ninety-nine percent boredom,” he told her. “I just try to make it more like eighty percent.” He waited until Chapston confirmed that they had, indeed, left the system before he made the order to get back into warp.

“So,” he asked Match, “how much information did we get on them in all?”
“About… seventy gigaquads, sir,” the sciences Officer replied.
“Match,” Hawle said carefully, “there’s something I’ve often wanted to ask a professional scientist and this seems a good moment… What the heck IS a ‘gigaquad’?”
Match looked up. His whiskers twitched. “It’s about a billion quads, sir.”
“How much is a quad?”
Match shrugged. “It’s a fair amount, sir.”
“Just say that next time,” Hawle advised. “Unless I need specifics.”
“Right.”

Hawle sat back. “Two days to home. Chappers?”
“Yes, sir?”
He pointed two linked fingers towards the viewscreen. “Engage.”

And the ships went back to the Bellaphron’s maximum speed.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Glad to see more Elena in this fanfic! I really need to get down her personality in here.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Well, she's currently happy. She's not fond of the size of her cabin on the Fallir (she was only supposed to be there a couple of nights) so blagged her way onto the Loper so she can do her best by the refugees - which means negotiating with Una right now. And she's doing a little emotional hunting too...

Part 67

Crossing back

“I keep telling you,” Maze insisted as Doctor Fuze took her blood pressure,” I’m absolutely fine!” She gestured in frustration, shrugging her shoulders and waving her arms as soon as she was able. “I don’t get why you have to keep doing these tests!” She complained again as he rapped her knee with a tiny hammer.
“Well, I know you’re still no good at lying,” Fuze replied, noting down his thoughts on her reactions. “You know Monta wants these things done and mandatory means we don’t wait until you’re ill. Physically, you’re admittedly perfect. Uh, wait,” he mused, looking askance. “I mean, admittedly you’re physically perfect.”
“Oh, so THAT’S why you keep dragging me in here and prodding me,” Maze remarked, a wry smile on her face.
If it were possible, Doctor Fuze would have blushed even more furiously than he could feel under his fur. “Oh, I, er… Um, no. I just… sometimes have, uh, trouble getting my words in, um, order?”
“Relax, kid,” Maze replied. “I didn’t mean it entirely like that.” She looked over to Doctor Barleycorn’s office, where the senior physician was writing up her mission notes. “I know she’s got, let’s say ‘problems’ with most Raitchians?”
“Oh, not so much these days,” Fuze told her. “She’s a bit more open about things now. Apparently a Raitchian’s got on her good side.” He preened slightly, growing half an inch as Maze watched. “This is just because I was the initial Doctor you saw so it’s continuation.”
Maze mock tutted as he gently pressed a blunt probe against her side. “So I remain date free. At least we proved you’re not blind. And I hate the pressure probe.”
“You told me last time,” Fuze replied, checking the read out. “It’s just to get a reading on your ribs. As I told you last time.”
“Not going to take my temperature,” she asked with a grin.
“I was thinking I might not, after where you mentioned putting it last time.” He sighed. “But I suppose I’d better.” He pulled the digital device from his pocket and activated it. “I’ll try and be gentle,” he assured her as he approached with the tongue depressor. “Might as well check your mouth out before I do it.

Jaqui Pangal finished filing her reports and thoughts for the future and possible transfers. She was resigned to losing Pulver as the Ensign was going to need physiotherapy for her injuries beyond what the two Doctors on ship had been able to do but now she had to find something to do with Hav. If the useful guy was going to remain the guardian of a young child she wanted him out of general duties. She’d assigned Pulver to control duties and was about to lose her so she could move him there but she knew he wouldn’t be keen, no matter how important it was. Wolves didn’t like being kept from the front lines. Perhaps she should have a word with him and see if he might like to take time off and sort out something with his family so they could take the girl, Cally, on? It might be something to think on. If he kept… no, she thought, phrase it better. If she stayed with him he’d need a bigger apartment. One of the larger ones on the ship. If she could find one. That’d mean dealing with the allocations officer, Raven. But she couldn’t even discuss it until she knew more about the situation and… Well, here came part of the situation now. The girl skipped into the office. “Morning, Cally,” Jaqui said, trying to be at ease with the little crossbeed survivor. “Are you looking for Hav?” She watched the quiet girl nod her head. “He’s on duty at the moment,” Jaqui advised. “You want to watch something? Play a game, perhaps?” The girl shook her head, then nodded so Jaqui set her up next to her on the security console and turned on one of the simple games she’d had Winsome install for just this sort of thing. “Would you like a drink?” Another nod. Jaqui headed over to the replication machine and smiled before turning back to her young guest. “Cally,” she asked, pulling the five year old’s attention back from the game she’d been just about to start. “What would you like?”
The girl looked around, put her finger to her lips, took it away again and continued to think. “Milk, please,” she said quietly.
Jaqui put in the order and headed back to the desk. “You’ve got a beautiful voice,” she said gently, before ruffling the whitefur’s head fur. “You should let us hear it more.” The girl beamed a smile but said nothing. “You don’t need to be so quiet now, yeah,” she added as Cally smoothed down her ruffled fur after licking her hand. “You can talk all you want. When you want.” She nudged the girl with an elbow. “You can even sing in the shower if you want,” she said conspiratorially. The girl looked confused, then worried then, possibly encouraged by Jaqui’s smile, began to giggle very quietly. “No naughty songs, though,” Jaqui added, making Cally laugh out loud for a few seconds before clapping her hands over her mouth and looking around the worry in her eyes not quite taking all the mirth out of it. “You can laugh here, Cally. I won’t stop you.”

On the bridge, Hawle and Raven looked out at space and wondered how long it would be until their searching signals connected properly with the patch beacon system. It couldn’t be long now. The Fallir’s transponder wouldn’t be listed on the system as Hawle had asked for it to be turned off, along with the Bellaphron’s, because he wanted to see the look on Henry Postlethwaite’s face as the pair turned up alongside him at the station but he planned to give the old Mican a heads up to some of the situation when he called, as he would within about ten minutes of the Loper showing on the computer. “Well, this is us,” he complained, “beating the bell by about two months,”
“Yup,” Raven replied. “They won’t even have ordered the bunting for our return party yet.”
“That’s true,” Hawle nodded thoughtfully. “At least we can have Chappers and Goole help organise our party. You do good party, don’t you, Sarah?”
“No-one knows how to party more than a one time barmaid, sir,” Sarah agreed. “We knows the best tracks and the best drinks.”
“No Carrot liquor for Raven,” Hawle said, before the Burman could say anything.
“I was looking forward to seeing that,” Una remarked.
“I wasn’t,” Raven grumbled.
“And we cross the border… now,” Chapston advised.
“Signal the others, Dawton,” Hawle told the Human on comms. “Tell them we’re nearly home and…”
“Sorry, sir,” Dawton said, “but…” He huffed. “I don’t believe this.”
Hawle shifted around to face him. “What’s up?”
He looked up hopelessly. “The frontier colony at Destris VII. About a hundred miners?” He took a breath. “It’s under attack, sir.”
Hawle rolled his eyes. “And the other shoe drops! Dawton, tell the others. Chapston, set a course!”

[CunningFox]

Is the name Cally a Blake's 7 reference?

[Welsh Halfwit]

Is the name Cally a Blake's 7 reference?

It's possible. I pick up a lot of references from Sci-fi shows and I do remember watching that one. (The brutal massacre of the heroes in the final episode is still memorable, almost 40 years on.)

[Amazee Dayzee]

I'm hoping that there is some way that we will be able to get Raven some carrot liquor. And maybe she can also steal a blueberry pie.

Lovely work on this chapter! I really am liking it!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 68

Destris VII

“Time on target,” Hawle asked Chapston as Councillor Davees arrived on the bridge.
“About fifteen minutes, sir,” Chapston replied.
Elena could see that things were far more business-like than on other occasions she’d been up here. She was about to speak when the Human pilot spoke again. “The Fallir’s keeping pace with us and the Bellaphron’s about six minutes back.”
“Understood. Any more messages, Dawton?”
“Lost them a few moments back, sir, sir. They reported they were holding them back but they have precious few weapons and soldiers available. They don’t think they can last more than an hour.”
“Good job we’re only fifteen minutes out, then, isn’t it?” Hawle turned and smiled at her slightly to acknowledge Elena’s presence. “All go today, Elena,” he said.
“So… so I see. What’s going on?”
“A mining colony right on the border is under attack from the Covidian Clan Pirate group. With budget cuts the Council cover this far out is few and far between. If WE don’t respond, it could take the other ships a day to get here.”
“Then we’d better go then, hadn’t we,” Elena commented rhetorically. “Anything I can do?”
Hawle hardly considered for a second. “Yeah. In the absence of a safety room, the most secure place on the ship that isn’t the brig is MY room. I need you to pick up the two orphans that have been taken on and get them to my room. You’ll find one in sickbay and I believe Jaqui said Cally was with her. I’ll notify both that you’re coming.”
Elena nodded and headed off to the sickbay as Hawle nodded to Dawton to send the messages.
“And I didn’t get sent why,” Una asked, knowing the answer but making it clear that she wasn’t asking rhetorically.
“Well, the only place more secure than my apartment is this bridge,” Hawle replied, turning back around. “That’s not a good place to have children running around.” He tapped his comm. “Hawle to Harty.”
<”Flight leader Harty here, sir,”> the Raitchian’s voice replied from the flight deck.
“We’re coming in fast on a piracy scenario. Have your ships ready to drop asap. We’re ten minutes out.”
<”Understood. Harty out.”>
Hawle looked at the quiet walls of the bridge and counted down from ten. “All right,” he sighed. “We’ve been quiet long enough. Raven?”
“Sir?”
“Sound the red alert.”

The alert blared and the wall panels strobed red as Hawle grimaced. He could imagine people running to their stations now, the frightened looks on their faces and, indeed, on the faces of two certain children who’d never experienced anything like this before but had far too much experience of danger to not know what the alarm meant. After five blasts, Hawle silenced the speakers, leaving the lights running. “That’s better,” he mused, “I can hear things again.” He glanced at Raven. “What HAVE you been eating?”
“Pretzels,” the Burman grumped. “Turned my stomach.”
“So I heard,” Hawle remarked.
“Brings me back… somehow… to the question,” Una said, making sure she was strapped in. “Why am I being allowed to remain on the bridge? It’s not exactly the way things are done.”
“I don’t give a drat about how things are done so long as they’re done efficiently with minimal casualties, Una. You being here hurts no-one. And I don’t mind you being here.” He looked at her impassively. “Unless you’d prefer to be elsewhere?”
Una looked slightly alarmed. “No! No, I just…”
Hawle tutted. “Never raise an issue if you don’t want to face the consequences, Colleen. You still have lessons to learn from me.”
Una looked unsure of things and decided to just say ‘right’ in reply.

The colony world had only started the set up a year back and had barely started to get going. They had little in the way of provisional government beyond the company overseer in charge of the exploratory mine that was being used in the second expeditionary stage. They’d run scans indicating Sokorian reserves below the surface, an ore which had become more expensive over the last decades as Osirians controlled the planets with most of the mines. A potential new find was worth money but the exploratory mine was there to determine if it was worth ENOUGH money. Sixty worked the pit, another twenty, spread out over the thousand kilometres, carried out more detailed surveys on the ground and the other twenty worked security. The defence cannon, mounted on the hill above the main colony buildings, had been one of the first things hit in the attack as the Pirate raiders blasted in, bringing the weapon down on top of the communal hall. Ten miners and security weren’t coming out again as the fighters skimmed the scenery.

They’d gone for the communications next, looking to silence the transmissions before they got through to anyone. No-one was nearby, according to stolen ship listings but there was no real sense in letting them call out for help. The longer it took for them to contact anyone, the easier it would be for the attackers to ‘fade into the ether’. As it was, the shuttle containing the actual raiding party had just landed, to be met by fire from what was left of the security forces.

The Captain of the ship stared at his communications officer in absolute hatred for what the Brockian had just said. The Captain’s Celican jaw moved slightly as he spoke quietly. “What do you mean, there’s a Council ship incoming? Our files say there are none in this sector!”
“They…” The Brockian gulped. “They must be wr...wrong, Captain. The..the ident states it as… as a Frigate. The, um, the Loper.” He threw up his arms as the Captain looked over him. “All of a sudden, she was just… there, sir!”
The Captain’s hand grasped his throat and pushed him back. “Perhaps you just weren’t paying attention?” He brought himself almost nose to nose with his subordinate. “Our people are on the planet, our fighters are down there and NOW you tell me the Council’s fastest ship is bearing down on us?” He snarled. “If we lose people to your negligence…” He held the slim subordinate close and used his free hand to rake down the side of his muzzle, drawing blood in thick channels against the grimace. “Worse will come to happen.” He dropped his prey. “Recall the fighters,” he ordered, slamming back down into his chair. “Let’s get ready to fight.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

This is just a very nice story and I wish it would never end. Good work as always!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 69

Squabble.

“Three minutes to target, sir,” Chapston reported from the helm as they sped to their next appointment. “Picking up one vessel, unknown configuration.”
“Right ho, Chappers,” Hawle replied breezily before opening a line to Flight leader Harty. “Need your lot ready to launch as soon as we arrive, Maze,” he told her.
<”Wilco, sir. We’ll be ready.”>
Hawle assumed Harty was busy by the way she closed the link rather than wait for him to do it. “Ready weapons,” he told the weapons stations.
“Going in armed for bear,” Una asked.
“They’re pirates, Colleen,” Raven said. “They don’t do diplomacy much. You need to get their attention.”
“What Raven means,” Hawle explained, “is they’ll never cede ground if they’re nose to nose with you. But, if you kick them in the crotch, they’ll agree to anything whilst they’re crouched, crying and clutching their privates.”
Una nodded. “Walk tall, carry a big stick and whack them with it.”
“Diplomacy 102?”
Una smirked as the ship slowed into normal space. “Think it was 103, actually.”

At the rear of the ship, Maze’s squad began to launch within five seconds f returning to normal space. Maze herself led the charge, vaulting into the white pricked darkness and turning towards the Lavarn class light destroyer. A Raitchian ship that had been ‘lost’ at some point in the last five years, it was built for stealth and manoeuvrability. The armour was reflective, throwing off scans and armed to cruiser standard. “Our target’s not the destroyer,” she told her fighters. “Leave her to the Loper and the Fallir. We caught them on the hop. Their fighters are still in the atmosphere. We can paste them down there or up here. Our choice. I’m choosing an ambush on the edge. Let’s get to it.” So saying, she headed for the planet, keeping out of the direct line of the ship’s fire.

“Two of us,” Hawle chuckled as the Loper came in on attack pattern Delta-3 and the Fallir came in from a differing angle. “He’s wasn’t expecting two. Shields up. Open fire, guys,” he instructed. “Engines and weapons.” The weapons officers carried out their instructions as the Fallir started firing as well.

The Celican captaining the pirate ship spat on the deck as his ship decided to engage the Fallir. “Two of the swine!” He pointed a finger at the Brockian as his weapons officer began firing. “You said only one!”
The Brockian held his hands up. “The clipper’s not using a transponder,” he declared. “They’re travelling undercover.”
“Then we focus on her. If she’s undercover, the council’s up to something with her.” He turned back to the viewscreen as his ship shook under impact. “Target her bridge.”

“Dawton,” Hawle remarked, reclining in his seat as Chapston threw the ship around on attack vectors, “set a timer. In three minutes from NOW, hail them.” The ship shuddered as an impact scored along the shields. “Move us in, Chappers. They’re focussing on the Fallir. Let’s convince them not to.”
“Sir,” she replied, changing the aspect so the bigger ship came in atop the Clipper, taking hits on her shield.

“The Loper’s covering us,” Grovan advised as Keele picked his helm officer up off the deck.
“Good,” Keele replied, sitting the Feline back down. “I know it’s been a time, Deena,” he told her, “but do your best to give us a shot at her guns, yeah?”
The Feline nodded hesitantly and activated attack plan beta whilst wishing her seat had restraints. The Fallir pulled slightly away from the Loper and struck at the pirate’s engines. Her shots skittered into the shields along with the Lopers.

Maze Harty had her ships headed down towards the atmosphere well of the planet as the squat, compact, shape of Kelva fighters came up towards them. Maze liked Kelva fighters. They were decent fighters but no match for hers and any competent Star-lancer pilot. Monta Weapontech were sports cars compared to the sedans of Kelva and she had the advantage in every way except one. There was a chance, just a chance, that one or more of their pilots were aces. She couldn’t assume they’d go down easy. “Now,” she told her flight, “whilst they’re straining to climb, knock ‘em down!” Her fighters opened fire on the ones climbing towards them. Several fighters flamed into pieces before the others turned to dive away, hoping to even the odds in the atmosphere. Maze would have let them run, knowing she could just wait them out, but she couldn’t chance them taking it out on the colony. “Two through six, with me. The rest of you, keep in orbit and try to get in front of them before diving in. When you come in, eight leads and don’t shoot US!” So saying, she hit the thrusters and led the way into the atmosphere.

Hawle held on as Chapston rotated the ship around, port to starboard, in a full circle to avoid being shot. “Three minutes, sir,” Dawton said, having gripped his console to avoid being thrown to the floor. “Hailing them now.” He held on as the ship shuddered on impact. “No response.”
“Keep trying,” Hawle called back over the noise.
“I AM getting a transmission from Talvary station…”
“We’re busy! Keep hailing the…”
“They’re responding by audio, sir.”
Hawle cursed. He’d wanted to see them. “Put ‘em on. This is Commander Hawle of the U.S.C.”
<”I guessed,”> the voice cursed. <”I’m holding your ships and I have back up on the way, Hawle. I give you this chance to leave. I suggest you take it.”>
“I like this guy,” Hawle muttered to Raven. “He’s an optimist.” he raised his voice to reply. “I don’t think so, Captain. You’re not holding us, we’re holding you. We’re not really trying and, y’know what? OUR back up is a lot closer than yours. Three… two…” As Hawle finished the countdown, the massive figure of the Bellaphron appeared from the void. His grin was almost audible. “And, as you can see, it’s a LOT bigger than yours too! Would you like to surrender now? Or does the old lady open fire?”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Hopefully they don't decide to open fire or that ship will be toast! Wonderful work on this chapter! I'm falling even more in love with Hawle's personality than before!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 70

Captive fun.

Hawle sighed as he stepped through the security control point and headed towards the brig area. Most of the Kovak’s crew was being held in the Bellaphron’s brig, under the watchful eye of Halriss and a few troops from Jaqui’s staff but Hawle wanted the Captain here, in his cells. The Bellaphron’s cells were more along the lines of cells with bars and one force field over the main door to the room. Hawle wanted this Celican behind better force fields so he’d been brought in here and, now, Hawle was heading in to talk with him. He tapped the door frame for a few seconds as the Celican swore loudly at Tastan. He stepped back into Jaqui’s office. “I think Tastan needs some food,” he advised his chief. “Take him to a comfort zone for fifteen, would you?”
“If it’s an order, of course,” Jaqui replied, fetching her cuffs control from her desk and heading in to the cells.

A few minutes later, Pangal returned, pushing the cuffed Feline ahead of her so Hawle could enter the room, pulling Pangal’s spare chair behind him. “Do you have some profanities for me,” he asked the Celican impassively.
“None that I care to have recorded,” the sharp Celican spat, making the fields fizzle between them before. “You’re Hawle, I take it?”
Hawle turned the chair so the back faced the Celican and sat, resting his arms on the top rung whilst he looked at the predator. “Ooh, I have a reputation? How gratifying.”
The Celican snorted. “Don’t be getting a head, Commander. The other Rabbit mentioned your name. Not like I’d have heard of you before.”
“Well, that makes us even, I suppose.” He paused for a second so he could interrupt as soon as the pirate opened his mouth. “Because I have no idea who you are, either. Now, care to give a name for the records? A nickname would do.”
“Captain Serracan,” he declared.
Hawle put on an ‘impressed’ face. “The scourge of Parravar? Best known for his stunning raid on Grayla Taran? Bit out of your way, aren’t you Captain? What are you doing, raiding outposts for the Covidians? Kinda small scale for you, isn’t it?”
“Everyone needs to eat, Rabbit.”
Hawle shrugged, “I’m glad you remembered to put a comma in that line. Of course,” he added, “I’m not surprised you’re in need of food, what with being caught by the Raitchians last month. Which sounds quite painful. But I’ll call you it anyway. I’m sure one of your subordinates will tell your name later.”
The Celican growled. “Where are they, anyway? Why aren’t they in here with me?”
“We’ve got six cells. The big lady’s got thirty six.” Hawle chuckled. “You got really unlucky today, didn’t you?”
“Our records were out of date, is all,” ‘Serracan’ snarled. “Someone will pay for this.” He thumped the wall.
Hawle had hopes of gaining information from this Pirate and knew the benefits of trying to get him ‘on-side’ for information. “Well, I hope no-one innocent gets harmed. Because they didn’t betray you. We really weren’t supposed to be here. We were supposed to be exploring beyond the rim, so to speak. We’re back early because we ran into two missing ships and ran out of food and equipment rather quickly after that.” He sighed. “Oh, we appreciate you saving your crew, by the way. Marks you as a decent Captain, even if the claw marks on some officers faces indicates otherwise.” He wagged a finger at Serracan. Could have had an eye out.”
The Celican steamed. “What is it you WANT, Rabbit?” He slapped the force field, making it spark around his pads.
“To test your patience, for one,” Hawle said, letting his tone sharpen. “Makes it easier to know when to rein myself in. We’re heading back to Talvary, we four ships, and they’ll be delighted to have you. Interrogators, telepaths, all of that, both on the station and in the prisons. “ He ‘calmed’ himself before continuing. “That is, of course, for those who don’t go in for Project Reclaim. Some’ll get taken in on that. Of course, that’s not an option for you, I’m afraid.”
“I wouldn’t take it anyhow,” he snarled. “I would never betray my clan.”
Hawle made a sound as he blew out. “Pfft, yeah, right.” He snorted. “We both know that’s a lie for the right price. Only a fool gets themselves put in maximum when there’s a medium security prison in some other part of Council space.” He spread his arms. “You don’t want to tattle on your friends? Fine. But I bet there’s a lot of Captains you don’t like at all, right? A few you couldn’t take down? I’m pretty sure I’d tell someone with a full fledged Navy where to find them and blow them out of your misery?”
“Because I face my enemies and kill them myself,” ‘Serracan’ glowered.
Hawle stood up. “Well, it’s not exactly like you can do that now, is it, Captain? You’ll be in prison a long time, with no way to bring them down. Except us. You know better than most that ‘honour amongst thieves’ doesn’t exist as you never turn your back on half of them. So use the law as your blunt instrument. Point us in the right direction to smack fingers and get your revenge for you.” He smiled a slight smile. “Might even help with sentencing. Anyway, I just thought I’d check in on you before I finally reply to Talvary station.”
“Checking in with your lords and masters?”
“Yup.” Hawle started to leave, then stopped. “Of course, they’re only my ‘lords and masters’ because they get to tell me where to go and what to do when I get there.” He pointed at the Celican. “Rather like your clan chiefs, hmm? The main difference, of course, is that I don’t need to worry about them killing me in a fit of pique. In fact, for this lot?” He grimaced. “They’ll probably try to promote me. Again.”
“You don’t want to be a Captain in rank?” Serracan spat, the phlegm fizzing on the barrier.
Hawle spun around, arms out wide. “What do I need it for, ‘Serracan’. I’m in the Patch, I have my ship, the fastest in the sector. I have a good crew. All a promotion would do is take me away from here. Why would I want that?”
The Celican chuckled tightly, never stopping glaring at him. “You might have a point.”
“Oop.” Hawle walked back in and took Pangal’s spare chair back with him. He waited in the office until the Chief returned, taking the time to use the replication machine to send a Chicorra meat sandwich in to the other captive.

When Pangal got back, Hawle headed off to compose his message to Talvary. He decided to use his cabin for the purpose and opened his door… only to have to flinch back out of the way of a flying pillow. “What the..?”
“Oops,” said a small voice hiding on the sofa. Cally was doing her best to look small as the other girl… what was her name - Rakell - stood frozen in the act of throwing. One of his beds’ other pillows was over Cally’s head, helping to hide her.
“They wanted to play,” Elena said, standing up from behind a bed ‘fort’. “I thought it’d help them with the time.”
“We’ve been back at peace for half an hour,” Hawle protested. “And you can relax, Rakell,” he told the Celican. “I’m not annoyed. Really. He picked up the squirming Cally. “Hav’s right,” he confessed. “You ARE a cutie. Has it been you vs them,” he asked, moving towards Elena.”
“All on all,” she said quietly.
“Ah,” Hawle said, whomping Elena with Callys’ pillow. “Better make it two on two, hadn’t we/”
He released Cally onto the half ravaged bed so she could reload and continue the fight as Elena laughed.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I can so see Elena doing this with the kids because it suits her so much. She always wanted to be a mother. Nice work!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Back to where they started...

Part 71

Return

Talvary station was an unusual hive of activity today. More Council ships than normal were in close orbit around the station on a yellow alert setting, ready to move if needed to defend it. On the station, security was getting ready for a fight, setting up positions as Henry Postlethwaite talked with Captain Postain in his office. “I don’t know what he’s up to,” Henry protested to the visage of the sector’s ranking military officer, “he said he could tell me but I’d never believe him!”
<”It was a mad idea to send his ship out on this mission, I think,”> Postain replied from his bridge aboard the Rodomont.
“So you’ve said,” Henry agreed, “three times in the last three weeks.” He threw up his hands. “I’m doubting he’s out to cause trouble but…”
<”What did he say exactly,”> Postain interrupted, notably forgetting to use the word ‘sir’ on the end of his question.
Henry sat back in his seat and huffed. “He said he couldn’t tell me because I wouldn’t believe it,” he repeated, “and he wanted to see my face when ‘they’ arrived.”
<”They?”>
“They’re why he’s back so early,” Henry told the tense Rottian. “He says it’s good news and we’ll celebrate their coming but we’re to get all the psychotherapists we can ready to work and the Council needs to assemble a squad of diplomats and engineers to sort out a situation he’ll tell me about when he gets here. He’s also dragging in a Pirate vessel he captured. Hence the welcoming committee in case it’s a trojan.”
Postain’s face turned to the side and swore. Herny assumed it was at Commander Rhew. Marius turned back to face him. <”What the devil has he been up to out there?>”
“And why’s he coming so slowly?” Henry sighed. “I suppose we’ll find out in five minutes or so…

“We’ll have to talk them down, y’know,” Una commented to Hawle, acting as Sarina Raven as Raven was currently aboard the Light destroyer with Kaffry reluctantly going with her to man the helm.
What with Raven there, Grovan on the Fallir, Groal on the Bellaphron and all of them taking one or two other troops or engineers with them the place was feeling a bit empty right now and he found he wanted his family back. “We’d need to do that anyhow,” he replied. “Transponders would indicate ships listed as ‘missing, presumed destroyed’ and the defences would go up automatically. We arrive, weapons de-powered and far enough back that it’s evident we’re not attacking – and with Elena and the kids here on screen – we should be able to convince whoever he dragged in to not shoot us.”
Cally, now wearing jeans and a T-Shirt, looked up at Elena nervously.
“They’re not going to hurt us,” Elena assured her as Rakell picked her teeth with a claw and sniffed.
“Coming in now, sir,” Chapston remarked, pulling everyone’s attention to the back of her head. “Fallir’s matching us.”
“They’d better have their weapons turned off,” Hawle muttered.
“Assuredly, they do,” Match replied.
“’Assuredly, they do,’” Hawle queried. “Just say yes next time.”
“Assuredly, sir.”
Hawle sighed. “Just take us in and, Dawton, open hailing frequencies.”

Almost as soon as the two ships dropped back into normal space, some two hundred thousand kilometres from the station, the viewscreen cut into life, displaying the visage of Henry Postlethwaite across the entire picture. “Good morning, sir,” Hawle said simply. “I apologise for all this.”
<”This better be good, Hawle,”> Henry replied. <”Abandoning your duty, refusing direct orders to…”> He finally noticed Davees and the others. <”Why do you have civilians on your bridge and who are they?”>
“And who is the ship next to us,” Hawle added. “This is Councillor Elena Davees, formerly of Pekara and the ship with us is the U.S.C. Fallir, reported lost two years ago on a run between Pekarra and Cana. We found them, and the children, on a planet called Varkonia. And that wasn’t all we found.”
<”How did they get there,”> Henry queried hotly.
“They were kidnapped by a machine,” Hawle replied. “It’d been going on quite some time too. There’s several hundred aliens in an internment camp that the Varkonian government needs our help to extricate. That’s why I said you needed to get the ambassadorial ship on it’s way so they can firm up the agreement started by the brilliant Colleen Una.” He indicated the Collian and she bowed theatrically.
Henry visibly tapped his fingers on his desk as he tried to think things through. <”You also requested I should get all the therapists together, Hawle,”> he said tightly. <”There’s a bare handful of crew aboard a clipper ship. What else have you…”> His ears pricked as a thought came to him. <”The Fallir vanished two years ago,”> he said sharply. <”Those children are older than that. What else did you find in this ‘camp’?”>
“Funny you should say that, sir,” Hawle replied. “I take it we’re on with the rest of the fleet here?”
<”You are. Now answer the question.”> Henry took on a curious look. <”And tell me why you came in so slowly.”>
“We weren’t coming in slowly, sir,” Hawle advised casually. “The other ship we found simply couldn’t keep pace with maximum speed. The machine that grabbed the Fallir has, like I said, been operating for years. These two children grew up in that camp, along with nearly a hundred other children…” Hawle glanced sideways to check his timing. “Aboard the Explorer ship Bellaphron.”

As he said it, the mighty old ship came back into normal space a few thousand kilometres off the Loper’s starboard bow, with the captured pirate ship an insignificant escort to it.
Hawle smiled as he saw Henry Postlethwaite’s eyes widen and jaw drop as the true enormity of what was happening came into his brain as the legendary missing ship suddenly popped back into life right in front of his eyes. He watched as Henry tried to form words for several seconds. “That’s the reaction I wanted to see,” he told his commanding Officer. “I might just have caused big budgetary problems and a diplomatic problem to beat the best but I think I’ve just solved some of our personnel and ships problems.” He glanced askew at the screen as Dawton reported the other two Council ships were already taking hails from the other ships. “Permission to come aboard for a debrief, sir,” he asked rhetorically.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Always a great idea to use women and children to get other ships not to attack you! Really great chapter!

[Welsh Halfwit]

And the penultimate part.

Part 72

Plans.

Two days passed in a hurry at Talvary station and Salla looked out of her window towards the station. She’d been over there a couple of times, taking a look around the shop and the cafe that had so much strange noise. They’d given her a small, emergency, forward of credits for use whilst they scrambled to understand finances and sort out accommodations for all of them – or as many as wanted them. Word had reached them of a small complex on one of the worlds out here and the chance of work on one of the worlds out here but talks with the Mican in charge were drawn out and, beyond Commander Halriss, the crew here weren’t being directly involved. She supposed that made sense, keeping the discussions as simple as possible, she supposed. Mercy and the kits were over there now, exploring with her Mican mate. Apparently there was an actual chapel there? Perhaps she could talk them into it? She smiled at her own reflection in the clear screen ‘glass’. After all, they’d just recently been reminded that miracles could happen, hadn’t they? She sniffed the air. “Afternoon, Karla,” she said, not quite turning as the engineer came in.
The Celican walked into the room and stood side by side with the Lappinean. “For me, it’s an ordinary station,” he confessed, “I can’t imagine what it looks like after fifteen years.”
She snorted slightly and took the hand he had by her side. “Looks like a type four station,” she admitted. “It took me a full day to remember the designation. Means it’s old, doesn’t it?”
“Old,” he repeated, squeezing her hand slightly, “and retired. They had a station in orbit of Pandera, the main financial planet in the sector. That got destroyed a few years back in a small war. So Talvary, which had fallen into disrepair, was brought back. Budget cuts and all that.”
“Still nice to see,” she admitted. “Time for my medical, is it?”
“Yeah. Station CMO’S on site.” He chuckled. “Not that there’s anything wrong with you, eh?”
“Well,” she allowed, looking wryly at him, “probably a bad back. I’ve been exercising it more than usual these last few days.” She pushed up onto tip-toes and kissed him as he looked down at her. He put his free hand to her side to hold her there for a couple of moments. “I hear they’ll be putting us somewhere in the patch for now, eh?”
“Yeah,” Groal replied. “I had to keep you close, eh?” He gave her another peck on the lips. “Cora II. A Mican colony that the Lappineans are putting some cash into. The Council wanted to put a base on there but redistributing troops was proving difficult so, according to the Commander, there’s enough room for the few hundred here.”
“Doesn’t it normally require more negotiations than that to twist arms?”
Groal shrugged. “I understand we have an ‘in’ with the colony president.” His eye twinkled. “She likes having Captain Postain visit. But he told Postlethwaite and Hawle in absolute confidence so,” he put a finger to the front of his muzzle. “Don’t tell anyone, yeah? C’mon, beautiful,” he said, leading her from the room.

Aboard the Loper, Chapston and Polva gathered the last of her things from her ‘C’ class quarters and headed to the ‘command’ class one they’d been allocated. It was a third bigger than her current place and, having lived frugally for the last few years, Sarah wasn’t quite sure where to put her stuff. Polva, however, had assured her that he was more than capable of filling in the gaps. There was even proper room for a coffee table that the Russellian was bringing over from the station. He’d swept her up as soon as he’d seen her and kissed her neck for the first few minutes whilst she’d laughed. Then he’d remembered he was with the rest of his work crew and put her down to the jeers and laughter of his compatriots. The one’s she was going to be taking him away from. They’d discussed that over dinner, putting her at her ease that this was what he wanted to do and she was that important to him. She’d realised that he was important enough to her that she didn’t want him hurt and her hand had found it’s way onto his without her consciously directing it. She knew that was a sign. She’d introduced him to Hawle and Raven in one of the breaks from the lengthy debrief and Hawle had mentioned Polva was incredibly lucky and fortunate and, if he wanted to stay that way he needed to keep Chapston happy. She kept to herself how much this was a ‘meet the parents’ type of thing.

“I hear the cinema manager’s planning a ‘classics’ season already,” Polva said, putting down the last box of her old pads and pictures.
Sarah looked over from where she was setting down her small box of unbreakable mugs and smirked. “Any idea which ones?”
Polva sat himself in the armchair. “I think tonight’s is ‘Carriden and Sophira’. Or something like that.”
Sarah activated the replication system and had it fill two of the mugs with Salatan Spice Coffee. “Isn’t that a romantic comedy,” she asked, handing him one of the mugs.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the mug before she sat on the near side of the sofa. “Yeah. Think so.” He glanced at her. “You want to go see it?”
She considered it. She’d seen it before, of course, but a comedy was different when you were with company. It was easier to laugh in company. “Absolutely,” she said pleasantly. “We’d have to watch the film this time, though,” she added with a wink. “Some of the jokes are visual ones.”
He put a hand to his chest. “I can watch a film, you know,” he protested. “Even when you’re distracting me.”

Rakell was packing up her pitiful few things as Night helped her. The big Mican had assured her they’d get some more things for her in the station shops, even new clothes (as much as a Celican bought clothes anyhow) and a galnet comm device before heading for Pandera on a scheduled flight. The DNA scans on the children had already scored several dozen hits and Rakell’s grandparents were still alive and had booked passage to Pandera immediately they found out they had someone continuing their line. The Celican colony Council had immediately told them to cancel their tickets as they had a freighter headed that way anyhow and they’d be there in a few days for a two week ‘holiday’, which Night had gotten herself involved in as the girl’s guardian. She had, of course, already asked Jaqui to ‘check out’ the Grandparents. She’d call if she found out anything.
“So,” Rakell asked, “what’s this Pandera like?”
“Busy,” Night grunted, shifting her suitcase off the bed and letting it ‘clunk’ to the floor. “There are some places I think you’ll like, a fun fair for example, but there’s lots of people so you’ll need to stick with me, yeah?”
Rakell nodded, having decided she’d even do that when these ‘relatives’ arrived.

And Cedar waited for his new supplies.

[Amazee Dayzee]

If we are getting nearer to the end then we are also gonna be getting nearer to my favorite part coming up involving the kids and Hawle.

[Welsh Halfwit]

That was the pillow fight, wasn't it?

[Amazee Dayzee]

I was talking about something ELSE that will be coming that is gonna be my favorite part.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 73

Results

Hav laid out Cally’s few possessions, ready for packing. She watched him quietly as he asked her if she wanted to take the stuffed duck toy with her. She’d nodded and he’d closed the small bag and promised her she’d need a suitcase with all the things she was going to have soon. She didn’t quite believe him but smiled anyway as he started work on his own stuff. She handed him some shirts that he put on the bottom of the case. He thanked her kindly and she chuckled that it was OK. They were going to be down on some little world called Caldera soon, taking on the security job of a small Council base there. She didn’t quite get what that meant but she’d heard Gerry say Miss Jaqui and someone called ‘Henry’ had ‘sorted it’ for him as a job. It meant there was less problems in letting him take care of her so she was quite happy about it. Apparently Gerry’s parents were coming to meet her, something that excited her. She was going to have family! Real family after she became Gerry’s daughter! They’d had to explain to her that that’s what ‘adopted’ meant. They’d taken days to decide she could go with him. She didn’t get what that was about as Gerry had said it wasn’t anything for her to worry about. So she hadn’t. She was happy here. Happier than she might have thought if she ever considered it. But she never did. He closed his case and pulled it off the bed to clunk onto the floor. Then she picked up her little bag and slung it over her shoulder, laughing slightly as it bashed Gerry’s arm and she took his hand. He’d said he was having the rest ‘sent on’, whatever that meant so she wasn’t worried about leaving things behind. She’d probably see them again. She looked back as he turned the light off and used her free hand to wave ‘bye bye’ to the small room.

Hawle sat back on the settee in the station hotel and pushed his shoes off onto the rug. “Three days of debriefs and meetings,” he complained.
“Making yourself at home,” Elena asked, putting a glass of light beer down besides the flopped Rabbit before sitting herself in the chair opposite. “What’s been decided?”
“Calling this home,” Hawle asked with a slight grin. “It’s been decided,” he continued, “that the |Fallir will remain in the Patch, along with the Pirate vessel we’ve ‘confiscated’. They’ll be getting a new crew together to crew them.” He sighed. “Grovan’s being given temporary command of the Fallir and a little time to make up a crew. He’s been told – by me – to leave the Loper alone and Captain Postain’s suggested a few crew that I think he probably wants to get rid of.”
“You’ll miss him.”
“Well, of course I will,” Hawle admitted expressively. “AND I’ll have to break in a new senior officer. But it was time he took the step up. I’ll still be around to give him a hand if needed, of course. So, you’re going to Cora II, Elena?”
She took a slug of her drink before replying. “Yeah,” she said. “They need someone to represent them with the President. Might as well be someone who’s known for it, eh?” She shifted over from the chair to sit next to Hawle and put an arm around his shoulders. “So you’re not the only reason I’m staying here, Aldair.” She looked him in the eyes. “That was what you were worried about, yes?”
He swallowed, despite not having had any drink in his mouth. “Well, certainly ONE of the things, yeah?” He didn’t mind her arm being there, he supposed, although his nerves were, apparently, up. “The Bellaphron’s going to become a ‘working museum’ to try and get people into the sector.”
“A working museum? Oh,” Elena remarked, her frown giving way on realisation, “Veterans keeping it operational and escorting school trips, that sort of thing?”
“Yup.” Hawle took another sip of his drink. “It seems that Henry Postlethwaite, sector commander, cut his teeth as a security chief on one of the explorers, back in the day. The Fauntleroy. He has find of a soft spot for the class. Halriss has already given him an escorted tour.”
Elena shifted over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “What’s Halriss going to do,” she asked.
Hawle pricked his ear back up after it drooped onto Elena’s nose. “I’m, um… I did know but I just… Oh! Yeah! He’s staying on in command of the ship. He’s not old enough to retire yet so he’s eligible to stay as it’s not going to be full time on the job sort of thing. Of course,” he added, putting his own arm around Elena, “the thing is they’ll be kept near operational status so…”
Elena laughed. “So Mr Postlethwaite has a ‘big gun’ around in case he needs it?”
“Possibly,” Hawle replied, pulling Elena a little closer with his arm. “Although, knowing Henry, he probably just likes the idea of having a personal runabout.”
She laughed. “We still have our work cut out for us, Aldair. It’s going to be hard readjusting. Really for the Bellaphron crew.”
He looked up and decided to kiss her before replying. It was the first time he’d actually initiated the action so she was almost surprised at first, making a sound before returning the gesture, allowing tongues to rub until he pulled back. “People will be there to help you all, Elena,” he told her. “YOU’LL be there to help them. Councillors will be there with you, the colonists will be there for you. You’re not going to be alone any more.”
“So what are they going to do about the Varkonians?” The lightness of tone was gone now, Hawle noticed. He felt around with his feet to see if he could find his boots. Nope. Out of reach. He took another draw from the glass and wondered if the delivery service would be much longer. “Um, well,” he said, “that’s been passed up the line to central. They’re going to be hosting an emergency session as someone pretty much guaranteed our help to the Commandrex. Well, two people did. And, to be frank, I think they’ll take more notice of Colleen than they would of me.”
“Why so,” Elena asked.
“Well, you know her family’s somewhat incredibly rich and quite powerful?”
“Yes,” Elena prompted.
“Well, don’t tell anyone,” he advised, “but I checked her out as soon as I knew she was coming aboard. Her uncle’s actually on the Council.”
“Ooh, the swing vote!” Elena hooted. “That’ll do it. Not that I particularly think they should be forgiven for what happened but this is probably the best way forward. They need to be sure about which way they go, though.”
“Oh, yeah. Straight through’s out. That’s a different toe to tread on. They’ll have to go the same way we went. Henry’s advising a trio of ships. One for ambassadorial things and trade, one stuffed to the gills with engineers and a warship, just in case. They’ll spend the next two weeks arguing over who should be in charge, the Captain of the Military ship or the Captain of the ambassadorial ship.” He leaned back and laughed. “I’ve probably caused enough hoopla to banjax my promotion chances for three years!” He raised an arm. “Yes!”

The door booped and Elena got up to answer it, letting in a Feline with a silver trolley, replete with food. “My money’s intact,” she admitted after signing for the spread and helped the server to lay things out on the table. “Thankfully.”
“So, what did you order,” Hawle asked, suddenly worrying that he’d left it to Elena as she’d arranged this overnight date for them. He got up to head to the table after the Feline headed back out.
“Oh, White Wine,” she said, “starters, main course, sides…” She indicated dessert. “Bakkaberry pie.”
“Someone’s been talking to Raven,” Hawle replied, before noting something. “Two of them. Hmm...”
“Oh,” Elena said ‘innocently’, “only if you want to, of course, I could never…”
Hawle sighed. “I’m going to be needing a shower later, aren’t I?”
Elena smirked. “I’ll look forward to it..”

END.