Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) (45 page)

“Rumors. you say?” Masterson quipped—his hard, age-lined face registering mild irritation. “I’d dare say, Colonel, that our intelligence is a little behind the times if we’re operating under the premise of rumors, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Troy fumbled. “Absolutely, sir.”

Returning his attention to the viewscreen, Masterson watched from his command chair as the mysterious pair of fighters vanished back into the Praetorian’s flight deck.

“What are you up to, Katahl?” he thought, trying to recall the last report he’d read on the matter. Then, rising from his seat, he straightened the jacket of his signature black uniform and stepped to the front of the room.

“If memory serves, Colonel, this fighter is allegedly capable of faster-than-light travel, is it not?”

“Yes sir,” the other responded. “Supposedly it was designed as a platform for the first-ever 100% Caldrasite powerplant. However,” he pointed out, “we have no way of knowing whether or not they actually achieved that or not since neither fighter ever made a hyperspace jump.”

Wondering if the XO was capable of delivering a more obvious question, the commandant turned a demeaning eye to his balding first officer.

FTL-capable or not, this was indeed an impressive fighter—faster, more agile, and infinitely better-armed than anything he’d seen before—and regardless of the size and specs of its powerplant, a closer look was most definitely warranted.

Poring over the options in his mind as to how best to procure one of these machines, it dawned on Masterson that this particular turn of events couldn’t have arrived at a more fortuitous time. For the last several weeks, he’d been working on a strategy that would, in theory, take his Auran foes completely off guard, though he’d lacked the proper tool for setting its dominoes in motion. Now, it seemed, fate had delivered him that tool.

“Tell me, Colonel Troy,” Masterson began, his steel eyes glinting. “Is our friend still onboard the Praetorian?”

Troy gulped. “Indeed, Commandant. I believe he is.”

Masterson’s smile darkened. It was all coming into focus now.

“Excellent,” he said coolly. “Scramble a message on a coded channel for him to contact us, and have Captain Hourne report to my briefing room at once. We have plans to discuss.”

“
Yes, sir
.”

Chapter 24: Crossroads

Later on that night, Lee, Mac, Danny, Hamish, and Link strolled down the corridor outside of the lift to the Praetorian’s Officers’ Club, which was located on the ship’s fifth level toward the bow. According to several of Lunley’s new friends in engineering, this was the primary watering hole where most officers and pilots came to blow off steam during long stints in deep space, and always up for some social atmosphere and a few cold ones, they thought they’d give it a shot.

Rounding the steel-paneled hallway toward the OC’s double-door entrance, Lee found it curious that in spite of having been aboard for nearly two and a half months now, this was their first trip to the local pub. Under normal circumstances back home, finding such a place would’ve been one of the first orders of business after arriving, regardless if they were there for business or pleasure. So the fact that they hadn’t done so until now was uncharacteristic, to say the least. Then again, their complete and utter lack of downtime throughout this whole process hadn’t helped.

Holding the door for the others, Lee stepped through the entrance and stared in approval of the all-too-familiar scene inside.

“Nice,” he mused to Mac beside him. “Don’t know about you, but I kinda like the place.”

Getting a frigid smirk in response, Lee guessed that her “cold shoulder mandate” from his Mako antics earlier was still in full effect.

In stark contrast to the dark, metallic feel of the ship’s otherwise cramped interior, the OC offered a refreshingly wide-open theme, featuring tall, 12-foot ceilings, an oak-top bar which encircled half the room, and an enormous tile dance floor, along with a sophisticated, yet casual cocktail-hour atmosphere that had everyone suddenly feeling right at home.

Hearing the sounds of muffled voices, clinking glasses, and a mellow shade of jazz over the house speaker system, Lee scanned his surroundings through the dim glow of the overhead lighting. To the right of the dance floor was a series of tall-top tables where a trio of officers sat huddled in the corner, deeply engrossed in conversation over frozen mugs of what looked like ale, while to his left, Lee spied two men hovering over a billiards table. Fancying himself as a modestly decent player back home, Lee considered trying his hand at a game later, though for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom what the craps grid on the table’s blue-felted surface was used for.

Finally, there was the OC’s defining feature: a large, rectangular pane of glass that served as the lounge’s rear wall. Spanning the entire width of the room from floor to ceiling, the transparent barrier was backed by a dazzling, starry backdrop, thus creating the illusion that the entire lounge was open to space.

“Nice scenery,” Link remarked from the rear of the group.

Thinking that he couldn’t agree more, Lee turned to respond, only to see that Link’s comment hadn’t been directed to the stunning scene beyond the glass, but rather the pair of attractive young female officers seated at the corner of the bar.

“Hey guys, glad you could make it,” Reiser called from a table at the far end.

“Hey Doc, good to see you,” Lee answered, leading the group across the room and pulling up a chair. “Thanks for the invite.”

“No problem at all,” said Reiser, gesturing to the bartender that they’d take a round of drinks. “You’ve all worked incredibly hard through this whole process, and I’m just sorry we haven’t had the chance to do this sooner. Plus, I know places like this are a little more your speed than a briefing room.”

Lee tilted his head. “Oh, I dunno, Doc,” he offered, “Havin’ been here for the better part of three months, I’d like to think there’s a lot about this place that’s pretty comfortable to us now, ya know?”

“Fair enough,” Reiser agreed, seeing the barkeep return with five mugs of ale. Then, raising his glass, the doctor leaned forward for a toast.

“To unexpected discoveries, then… may they all be as remarkable as this one has been.”

“Cheers!” the group saluted, clinking their glasses to his.

Taking a sip of his ale, Lee processed the drink’s flavor and examined its thick, frothy head and light, reddish coloring through the mug.

“Not bad,” Mac noted beside him. “It’s a little hoppy for my taste, but what is it?”

“It’s called Belle’s Amber,” said Reiser, “and it’s made by one of the older brewing companies on Aura. It’s actually one of the more popular beers that they make…” He paused, eyeing Hamish’s bitter expression across the table. “Though I’m guessing it’s not for everyone.”

“Sorry, Dr. Reiser,” Hamish apologized. “It’s a wee bit thin for ma liking, but to each his own.”

“Well, they’re always looking for suggestions if you have new ideas.”

“Are they, now?” Hamish perked up, and Lee could practically see the marketing possibilities for ‘Iron Highland Ale’ swirling through his friend’s mind. “And would the gent behind the bar be the one to talk to about that?”

Reiser laughed. “I’ll tell you what, Hamish. In honor of the occasion, how about we go with something a little closer to home for you guys?”

Then, turning to flag down the bartender, Reiser waited for him to return.

“Hey Doc Reiser, what’s goin’ on?”

“Everybody, I’d like you to meet Bruce,” he said of the man with thick black hair and a pronounced jaw. “In addition to being everybody’s favorite listening ear around here, he’s also the best mixologist in the fleet, this side of Finley Springs. Bruce,” Reiser shifted, “meet the 82
^nd
Logistical Squadron. They’re here on special assignment with R&D.”

“Good to meet ya,” Bruce said with a two-fingered wave. “What can I getcha?”

“Those crates I brought back with me,” said the doctor. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to unpack them, have you?”

The bartender nodded. “Sure did. I haven’t had a chance to go through them all yet, but I’ve got ‘em in the back.”

“Outstanding,” said Reiser. “Grab the one labeled ‘McKreiger’ and bring it out with some fresh glasses, will you?”

“You know your Scotch, Doc. I’ll give you that,” Link praised, rubbing his hands together in anticipation alongside Hamish. “You a 17-year man or a 21?”

Reiser’s face registered amusement. “Thirty, actually,” he said, causing two sets of eyes to bulge from their sockets across the table.

“I don’t suppose you brought any vodka back in that batch?” Danny asked, filling his glass with the others once Bruce had returned with the pristinely preserved bottle. “Nothing against whiskey, but I could really go for a dirty martini right about now.”

“I did,” said Reiser. “I tried to sample a little of everything to bring back with me. Some liquors, some wines, even a few types of beer, though particularly the wine. I took quite a few trips to your Napa Valley while I was in California, and I must confess,” he gushed, “I do love a good red.

“Always was a fan of the stuff from Kentucky myself,” noted Lee.

“Got that too,” said Reiser. “However, I must side with Hamish and Link when it comes to the whiskeys. It’s tough to beat a good, smoky Scotch.”

“What else did you bring back?” Mac asked, savoring the aged scent emanating from the glass beneath her nose.

“Oh, quite a lot of things… food recipes, alcohol, literary texts, art… as you saw on the journey here, we’re very big on sampling what other cultures have to offer. I even brought back a fairly comprehensive collection of your music.”

Mac’s face lit up. “Is that right?” she observed. “Anything particular catch your interest?”

“I bet Doc here was a classical man,” Link guessed aloud.

“Actually, I rather enjoyed a lot of your musical genres. Classical, opera, jazz, blues—some popular music too. Rock n’ roll, techno, R&B… I even found myself listening to some of your country—the old outlaw stuff, anyway. They were all unique in their own way. That reminds me,” he concluded, gesturing to an information access terminal beside the bar. “I loaded all of it into the ship’s main archive when we got back, so you or anyone else can access it from any terminal in the ship.”

“Right on,” said Link. “We’ve totally gotta play some Bowie before we get outta here. You know… for posterity’s sake.”

Reiser leaned back in his chair. “So,” he shifted. “Tomorrow you wrap flight school. One more mission, then it’s on to your FTX. You ready?”

Lee’s expression turned lopsided. “I suspect we’re as ready as we’re gonna be…” He broke off.

“But?” Reiser probed, sensing there was more.

“I dunno, Doc,” Lee shrugged. “I guess in a lotta ways, it’s sort of a bittersweet thing for us, ya know? On one hand, we’re all ready to get home, back to our lives, and back to our loved ones—”

“And back to the cash,” Link added. “Love the cash.”

“But at the same time,” Lee went on, “I think I can safely speak for everybody here when I say that while this has all been a lot of work, it’s also been one helluva rewarding experience… and whether it’s because of the tech, or the thrills, or the friends we’ve made around here… leavin’ all that behind ain’t gonna be as easy as anybody thought coming into this.”

“Lee’s right, particularly about the people part,” said Mac. “Captain Ryan, Sgt. Major Noll, Chief Wyatt, Doc Reynolds… they’ve put a lot of time and effort into making us successful, and we want to reward that with results—for us and for them.”

“Aye,” Hamish agreed. “These are great people, and far be it from us to let ‘em down.”

Reiser sipped his Scotch. “Well, on that matter, I can tell you this,” he noted. “You’ve made believers out of every one of them which, trust me, is no small accomplishment. When we launched for Earth a year ago, everyone went along with this project because they had their orders, but that didn’t mean they believed in it. From the moment you guys stepped off that transport ship, you’ve taken everything that’s been thrown at you and attacked it head on with the kind of diligence and enthusiasm that I could have only dreamed of finding when I began this process. Never did you back down, never did you get intimidated. You just kept working and in doing so, you’ve earned the respect of everyone associated with this program. Ryan, Noll, even the admiral himself has come around, and that’s most definitely something to be proud of.”

Flattered at the complement, Lee raised his glass for a toast of his own.

“To the men and women of the Praetorian,” he said, “and to the outside shot that we don’t make total idiots out of them or ourselves before this is all over!”

“
Hear, hear!
” the group agreed, though Reiser hesitated for one addendum.

“To the 82
^nd
Logistical Squadron,” he said proudly, holding his glass aloft. “To the Renegades.”

“
Damn straight!
” Link shouted, slamming back his drink and slapping Hamish on the back of the head.

As the next hour breezed by, the crowd behind them gradually grew while many of the ship’s off-duty personnel began to file in.

“Looks like business is beginning to pick up around here,” Link said to Hamish, mentally noting the orders of the three females at the bar in case such information became “need to know” by the end of the night.

Hearing the music rise in volume and tempo around him, Lee glanced down at his watch, then back to Reiser, who polished off the last of his drink and rose from his chair.

“Calling it a night, are ya, Doctor?” Hamish asked.

“I believe I am,” said Reiser. “I’ve got a meeting with Ryan at 07:00 to prep for your training run, so I need to get some sleep. You guys stick around, help yourselves to my personal stash there, and by all means, have a great time tonight… but not that great, alright?”

“That’s the plan, Doc,” Lee said with a laugh as Reiser turned to leave.

Once he was safely out of earshot, Link refilled his glass, fired it back, and returned his attention to the activity at the bar.