Space Trippers Book 1: Trippin' (2 page)

Immediately to the right and left, on the same wall as the door she entered were several computer stations all facing ahead; these were for the many ships operations, such as scanners, weapons, communications, engines etc.

The Captain could order these stations to perform any tasks that needed to be done, such as scan the area or target and destroy an obstruction ahead.

Straight ahead to the right and left were two long counters inlaid with computer panels. The Operations Commander and his coordinators used these posts. They oversaw all the critical operations of the ship including the power supplies, engine conditions, weapons system operation, scanner operations, communications and so on. Their job was to correlate all the information on the ship's operating functions and relay them to the Captain if there were any abnormalities, as well as figure out ways to fix or work around any ship's function problems that came up.

Between the two operations stations was a long narrow gangway with rails all around it. From here, you could oversee the flight crew below. From the very end of the observation point, you could look straight down on the pilot at his control panels. To his right and left were several key flight stations that gave him all pertinent information on space conditions that were fed to them by the control crew at the scanning and communications stations above. In front of the pilot was a very large open area that dropped down another half storey and ended in a two-storey-tall and deck-wide outer facing window that showed where the ship was heading.

These outer facing, clear panels wrapped back around to where the Flight Deck ended, behind the pilot's peripheral vision field, giving the flight crew a panoramic view of where they were heading.

But none of this is what Valesque was interested in, for straight ahead of her on the end of the observation point above the Flight Deck was a lone man, looking out over the Command Center in perfect ease.

“Fazar!” the Engineer exclaimed upon catching sight of the familiar figure. “What are you doing here, who ordered this crew on board my ship?!” she demanded of him furiously.

The man calmly held up a hand to stop her. Fazar was a middle-aged, non-military Captain that had been handpicked for the Magellan’s maiden voyage. Which was a good two months away maybe more seeing as construction had been slowed by some unwelcome military attention, namely a General snooping around and causing trouble.

However, Dr. Warner had gone out to put an end to it today so everything could proceed on track. Now with Warner gone and the presence of the milling crew along with their future Captain invading her ship, she more than wondered at the connection.

“If you looking for Captain,” came Fazar’s heavily accented and carefully calculated reply, “she over there.” he said, nodding his graying head in the direction of an auburn haired woman clothed in full regulation uniform as he looked at Valesque through his heavily lidded eyes. He had been expecting this confrontation ever since he had received the orders to launch, and he was obviously taking it in his usual calm manner. After all, there was no arguing with the Intergalactic Planetary Alliance, not if you wanted to live anyway.

“Oh, she is, is she?” Valesque murmured, squaring her shoulders for battle as she turned heel and walked briskly toward the indicated quarry. Virrilian Corseccans are not known for their tact or decorum and, as Valesque proceeded toward the unwary Captain, she was living up to that reputation to the letter.

"Remember," he called out to her in his proverbial way as she changed targets, "if you too quick to boil over you may get into hot water."

Valesque paid no attention to his warning; she was used to him always having some adage to say in every situation and generally just ignored them.

“Who put out the order to commission this ship?!” Valesque demanded again as she approached the uninvited Captain.

The woman who at closer range appeared to be a good ten years older than Valesque turned very slowly toward her assailant, appalled at such an outburst. Captain Fairbanks was a very strict military captain. She did everything by the book and she expected each member of her crew to do the same. She regained her composure however upon discovering it was not a crewmember but an outraged Tech-Labs Engineer who had verbally assaulted her.

“I demand to know who gave orders for my vessel, and I demand to know now!” Valesque continued bitterly.

The Captain looked her over quickly and ascertained that although the girl’s nails were neatly squared off at the fingers, she was indeed a Virrilian.

“If you will follow me,” she began patiently, noticing that part of the arriving Control crew was beginning to stare, “I will discuss the matter with you privately.” she said, ushering the younger woman into the Observation Room. The Observation Room was behind an automatic door to the left side on the Control Deck. From here, the ship's Captain could view the control crew through one-way glass walls that faced the control deck, while getting away to themselves. Straight ahead as you entered the room was a large outer facing window with automatic privacy blinds, before it sat a large smooth, glass top desk. To the left was a wall with a built in display unit, to the right was a wall filled with rows of computer screens, each one showing the data on one of the control center's stations. From here, the Captain could oversee everything the crew was doing, down to the information on their screens.

The Captain had not been in this room before and she tried to hide her surprise as she entered it, but she was never very good at hiding her feelings, she supposed it due to her red hair. And there were many surprises on this ship.

“So,” Valesque erupted as soon as the doors had closed, “who authorized this?”

“I don’t see what concern it is of a Tech-Labs worker.” the Captain responded calmly, as she walked about the room trying to remain unalarmed as she surveyed its unfinished state. “But I receive my orders from my commanding officer, the same as you.”

The young Scientist scowled, “I receive orders from no one.” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at the intruding Military Captain. In the dim light of the room, the girl’s eyes shone brightly as her naturally pale, Virrilian skin took on an almost eerie glow.

“I see.” the Captain replied softly, not really paying attention as she pondered the presence of the large cables that cascaded from the open ceiling panels.

Valesque tried to remain calm. “Just what did `your Commanding Officer’ tell you about this ship, anyway?” she finally asked, noting how the other woman regarded the incomplete state of the room. It was obvious she had not been briefed on the Magellan’s present state, and maybe when she was she would see the mistake and disembark the vessel with her crew.

“I was informed that the Vortex was undergoing some minor . . . refurbishing.” the woman replied, her red hair shining in the dim light as she glanced up the web of cables she was nearest to. “But that their completion was not necessary for our mission.”

Valesque laughed aloud, so loud the Captain thought for sure the crew outside could hear her. “First of all, lady,” the young scientist began, regaining her composure. The Captain glanced at her coldly. “Captain.” Valesque corrected, conceding. “First of all, this is the I.S.A Magellan, S as in Science, and not the `Warpact’ or whatever military ship you are looking for. And secondly, this ship is NOT being remodeled, it is being built! As in constructed, created, assembled, put together originally, finished!” she exclaimed in her usual thesaurus way, stepping forward and grabbing two cables out of the tangled mess the Captain had just been puzzling over and snapping them together as she uttered the last syllable.

“And furthermore,” she continued not even pausing for breath, as the Captain regarded her in amazement, “the Magellan is not, has never and won’t be, for quite a while, on any `Mission’! And now I would suggest, Captain, that you and your crew get off my ship!” the young scientist added forcefully, enraged at the woman’s obvious lack of decorum, for she just kept staring over the Scientist’s shoulder and glancing back at her amused.

Valesque wished then and there she had waited and let her partner talk to this obnoxious Captain. She could never keep her temper, she hadn’t even been with her five minutes and she already felt like killing her!

Captain Fairbanks calmly stepped across the room to the large, slick, if not entirely clean desk, grinning all the while like the cat that ate the canary.

Which after further reflection, and after she had settled herself down in the exquisitely comfortable desk chair, she decided was not such a good idea with a Virrilian and immediately wiped the smile from her face.

“I see.” she began coolly, addressing the hot-tempered young woman before her after a moment of silence. “But, it is my understanding . . .” she continued, pulling her Vid-screen from its holder on her waist and punching up a data screen, “that the I.P.A Vortex, Omega S-Class Intergalactic Battle Cruiser, has been, will be and is commissioned out for battle. So it seems that one of us has the wrong ship.” she mused, looking up at the enraged young scientist and then beyond her, gesturing toward the wall on her far right. “And it seems it is you... uh, what is your name again?”

Valesque turned slightly to see what the woman was alluding to, realizing then what she had been staring at so smugly before.

The cable Valesque had snapped together was the power supply for the ship’s registry display that she herself had designed and built.

The wall the Captain had noted was recessed and covered with a three-dimensional mural of the galaxy with shimmering stars, solar systems, comets and the like. Complete with man-made orbital moon Saturna 3, the ship’s birthplace, and a scale model of the ship itself in the foreground.

All set off by the antique replicas of pioneering telescopes that gave humans their first glimpse into space. Usually the sight of her best work come to life would have made her spirits soar, but as she glanced at her masterpiece of engineering and programming her blood ran cold. Instead of her meticulously crafted name plate for the I.S.A Magellan hung the menacing, rough-hewn, and quickly done replacement, the `I.P.A Vortex’.

Valesque was not sure which amazed her more, their sheer gall or their amazing speed in overtaking her ship.

The Captain, quite sure the argument was now over, repeated her last question as she punched up the crew registry to assure this volatile woman she was where she didn’t belong. “What was your name again?” she repeated patiently.

The young scientist turned back to her impatiently, her lips in a full snarl, showing all four of her sharp white fangs, while her naturally pale face flushed red in her building fury.

“My name is Valesque, Chief Engineer of this project.” she replied bluntly, through clenched teeth, trying to keep herself from lunging over the desk and ripping the Captain’s throat out.

“No, no,” the Captain corrected, hating to use any title so civilian, “your ranking title.”

Valesque grew indignant; straightening up to her full height she replied very clearly, “I am not a classified military officer.” she replied so vehemently that she almost spat the last few words.

The Captain was astounded by her proclamation; she could have sworn the young woman sounded almost proud of her non-ranking standing. Never the less she punched in the name just to assure herself it wasn’t in the ship’s registry, and grimaced to see it just a moment later as the computer located her. `Great’, she thought, `this is not good.’ Outwardly, she said, “Well, non-classified Valesque it seems you are assigned to this ship.”

Valesque grinned smugly, supposing the woman had finally found her mistake.

“As maintenance Ensign, second class.”

“What!” Valesque shouted, grabbing for the handheld screen, which the Captain deftly snatched from her reach as she continued:

“According to this you are a classified military ensign, Ensign.”

“Since when and by whose orders!!” the young woman snapped, disbelieving. Nothing like that was possible; you cannot just go around classifying people. “Who is the commanding officer of this outrage?!”

“According to the records you became an Ensign second class, just over two hours ago.” the Captain replied. “Congratulations.”

For some reason she just seemed to enjoy irritating this young woman, although she knew it probably was not a wise thing to do. Especially seeing as the young Virrilian was beginning to go into hunting mode, her eyes filming over, but at least her nails were cut.

“And in answer to your second question, which as I remember was also your first,” she continued, looking up at her new Ensign calmly, “the commanding officer of this mission is General Gorbok. My superior and friend, who has assigned this ship to report to the Corseccan Galaxy as a military defense vessel.”

Valesque gaped in disbelief, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t stand, all she could do was stare. “General `Warlord’ Gorbok?!” she asked in shock and alarm.

The same General who had been snooping around the project for the last few months? The same General who had felt it necessary to infiltrate a construction crew with spies?

The same General who her partner had just this morning gone to get a restraining order and injunction against, that General Gorbok?

She could not believe it. It could not be true, why would anyone in their right mind hand over a science vessel to the `Warlord’ General?