Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (72 page)

"He
was down here earlier," explained Mike as the group stepped off
the
lift at deck four. "He was tinkering on one of the shuttles."
Mike lead them through the pilots' ready room and headed for the
flight bay.

Jack,
walking hand in hand with Alité, reflected on how much he'd
missed
with only one eye and what a tremendous gadget it was that he'd been
given. When they passed through the doors into the flight bay, he
was absorbed in his thoughts and was caught completely off-guard by
the reception waiting for them. A throng of about a hundred people
descended upon them, smiling, laughing, arms outstretched,
embracing. Alité clung to Jack's hand though they could not
see each other through the crowd.

Makeshift
tables had been set up and laden with food. There was to
be
a banquet, right there, right then. Jack was warmed, energized by
the hands that greeted him and the smiles that shined on him. Many
faces he recognized, the pilots, his bridge crew, the flight
crews... but many were new faces. Some of those shone brightest of
all.

Jack
and Alité were swept to the head of the table and deposited
like
shells on a beach by the surf. The crowd ebbed and found seats, the
noise retreating with them. Jack and Alité stood at the end
of the long table, the crowd standing quietly at their chosen
places, pilots mixed with mechanics, technicians mixed with flight
crew. Rank seemed to hold no importance for this occasion. But old
faces or new, they all proudly wore the Freedom's uniforms.

Jack
cleared his voice and wiped the wetness from his eyes. "Ahem. I
um..."
he glanced at Alité then back to the faces, "have
absolutely no idea what to say..."

There
were scattered pockets of polite laughter. Then Ragnaar,
halfway
down the table, raised his glass. "To honor..." His voice,
as large as the man, boomed in the expanse of the flight deck. The
voices of the crew repeated the word in unison and drank.

"To
Freedom," said Jack, raising his glass. The ritual repeated
itself.

"To
Captain Steele," said a voice from far down the table.

"Wait!"
shouted Jack, holding up his hand. "I... I am
DEEPLY
touched
by
your affection. In fact, I could never hope to find adequate words
to express how much, but I don't want this to be just about me. It
can't be just about me. This should be about all of us... about you.
We have all risked our lives for one another..." he thought
about Trigoss and the ABS named Mystic. "Some have given their
lives..." He raised his glass. "It is to them... and to
you, that I toast." He up-ended his glass and everyone else did
likewise.

The
food was excellent, as was Marna's norm. And as people ate
their
fill, some departed to relieve others on duty so they might attend
and partake in the feast. With a desire to meet the new people and
become familiar, Jack strolled about the table and filled empty wine
glasses from a carafe he carried, chatting amiably as he went. When
he got to Toncaresh, he recognized the voice but could not place the
face. "ABS Toncaresh," announced the young man with the
artificial arm. He stood up and shook Jack's hand. "Glad to see
you up and around, Captain..."

Jack
smiled. "Thanks. It's good to meet the face behind the voice.
By
the way, how's the arm?"

Toncaresh
rolled it around like a ball player loosening up. "Just
fine,
sir, sometimes I forget it's not real..." They talked for
awhile longer before Jack moved on.

Toncaresh
elbowed his new friend Marguin, a former
refugee
who now worked in the cargo bay. "I told you he was
different... special.”

Marguin
nodded, “He really seems to care...”

A
little while later, Jack met Hecken Noer. He was not at all as
Jack
had pictured him, studious and collegiate looking. Instead, he was
much older, probably in his early seventies, thin, with an unruly
mop of silver-grey hair and matching eyebrows. At first glance,
standing there in the long white lab coat, he gave the appearance of
what one might picture as the typical
mad
scientist
.
But the old man quickly put that feeling to rest when he met Jack's
gaze. He smiled a broad, warm smile that seemed to round out his
face and his eyes danced and sparkled. Jack decided it made him look
more like Santa Claus than a mad scientist. The two men shook hands
and Jack was surprised he was not as frail as he looked, he had the
grip and vigor of a young man. Hecken Noer began with an apology. "I
am sorry, Captain, that I could not have done better..."

Jack
was a bit puzzled. "With what?" he asked.

"With
the eye of course," explained Hecken. "Had to make due for
most
of
it. Basic odds and ends you know... no proper parts or tools. As
soon as we have the right bits I'll build you a proper piece."
His mannerisms were quick and birdlike, matching his quick halting
speech.

Jack
half smiled, half smirked. "Let me get this straight," he
began,
"you built this eye out of assorted spare parts?" He found
this astonishing.

"No
no no. It would not be so crude if I had. Had to fashion most
of
it."

"By
hand...?" said Jack, thinking out loud. "Out of odds and
ends...
Just
stuff you found lying around?"

"Quite."
said Hecken Noer with a curt nod.

"Man!
I'd love to see what you could do with the right stuff..!"

The
old man smiled like Santa Claus again, pointing at Jack. "Your
own parents
could
never tell. I guarantee it."

Jack
liked him already, admiring his self assuredness. "Well,"
he
began,
shaking the man's hand again, "thank you for what you've
already done. And if you care to make a list of what you need,
somehow we'll find a way to get it for you..."

Hecken
assured him it would be done.

Jack
sat back in his chair and relaxed, watching the crew talk
amongst
themselves. It was the first moment he had taken to just look
around. The flight bay had taken on a much different look since he
saw it last, crowded with fighters, shuttles, supplies equipment and
parts. Even ground vehicles. "Where the hell'd we get all this
stuff?" he asked Alité in a whisper.

"Off
of ships at the depot," she answered. "You ought to see
the
cargo
hold too. Lots more down there. We're almost full to capacity."

That's
when Jack saw him, a shadow between the shuttles in their
revetment.
"Voorlak..."
whispered Jack. He felt the Ancient's smile though he could not see
his face.

"He
says you must be careful when you get home," said Alité.

Jack's
head whirled in her direction. "You've seen him?"

"Uh
huh," she said, staring at the swirls in her wine glass.

Jack
looked back but the shadow was gone. He turned back to his
wife
and grabbed her hand. "When?"

"When
you were in the infirmary," she replied, meeting his eyes. “He
came to tell me to have faith, that you would come back to me... “

"What
else did he say?"

She
shrugged. "We talked..."

"About
what..." He was torn between the thought that it felt like
there
was something she was avoiding, and the fact that she seemed to take
his appearance so casually.

"He
said things at home are not safe for you. We will not be able to
stay,
and you should be very careful while we're there. He said you might
want to stay but I shouldn't let you." Jack's eyes widened. "He
also said," she continued, "I cannot go home. My planet
has fallen to severe unrest and local civil wars. There are traitors
and spies everywhere. My father fears for the safety of the entire
Royal family."

Jack
looked down at his hands and back up, thinking about the fact that
her brother and sister had been murdered in the life pod they'd been
recovered in. He had decided not to tell her unless it became
absolutely necessary and up to this point there didn't seem to be
any reason to force her to re-live her grief or complicate her life.
"Did he have anything
good
to say?"

She
smiled. "He said you would live at a time when I
thought
you might not, he said it was
important
that
we
had found each other...” she leaned in toward him whispering,
“you
and me...”
She sat back again. “He also told me, you were special."

Jack
cocked an eyebrow, "Special?"

Alité
smiled and ran her finger across his lips. "The word he
used
was
gifted
,
but then again, he wasn't telling
me
anything I didn't already know." Jack smiled at her
insinuation, but he wondered what Voorlak had actually meant by
that.

■ ■ ■

It
was several days later when Jack felt well enough to fly on
patrol,
that he strolled into flight briefing clad in his flight suit and
carrying his helmet. He slipped quietly into the darkened room and
sat in the back, wiping the thin layer of dust off his helmet with
his sleeve. He was listening to Paul's instructions on patrol
pattern and reminders of protocol when a figure in a UFW uniform
entered and sat next to him.

"Pardon
me, sir," began the young man, "I hope I'm not being too
forward,
but I was told I needed to talk to you if I wanted to fly..."

Jack
looked at him in the darkness. "You're the Vulcan pilot we
picked
up, aren't you." It was more a statement than a question,
Steele knew exactly who he was.

"Yes,
sir." He extended his hand. "Ensign Duncan Taylor."

Jack
took his hand and they shook. "Good to meet you, Duncan."
He
eyed
the Ensign's human features. "I don't mean to be rude, but are
you human?"

"Half,"
answered Duncan. "My father was human, my mother was
Domarist."

Jack
had heard of the Domarist and knew them to be intelligent
and
peace-loving. "If you're half Domarist, what're you doing out
here flying a fighter?"

Duncan
shrugged. "It's all I know. My older brother was
my
flight
leader,
and when he was my age, my father was
his
flight leader. I was even born on a carrier."

"Really..."
Jack pondered. "Well tell me about your father."

Duncan
thought for a moment. "Well I didn't know him very well...
he
died when I was still pretty young."

"Tell
me what you remember."

"Ok.
Well, as far as I know, he was always a pilot. When he came to
the
UFW, he had already flown in a military called the United States
Navy. I'd never heard that name since, or knew where that was, until
I talked to Lieutenant Warren and Commander Smiley. They told me
they served there too and explained how you and they came to be out
here. It's much the same as I remember my father telling it. The
Lieutenant also explained you're returning home. I've always wanted
to see where my father came from... meet his people. I've always
wondered if they were as dedicated, as selfless as he was."

"Some
are, some aren't," commented Jack. "About the same as out
here
I
guess."

Duncan
seemed to drift off for a moment, then snapped back. "He was
killed
about fifteen years ago during the battle for Lander's Cluster in
the Omnecron Sector. My brother raised me since then." He
paused again, searching for the right words. "Look, Captain, I
think I know why you're asking all this, you want to know where my
loyalties are. And I don't blame you, I would too."