Thursday, December 20, 2018

Kinderling 5:

And that was it.  The conspiracy was afoot.

Finding Uncle Zon and Father should have been simple.  Kinderlings, as a people, are generally very warm and generous.  Under normal circumstances, I would have been able to ask around and someone was bound to know where Father had been taken.  However, these were far from normal circumstances.  The people were scared.  Scared enough to let Baot bypass the Elder's council, declare martial law, and even go as far as detaining the one known survivor of the Elder's council.  The people followed along because he promised the one thing they wanted most, safety.  I hadn't heard if Mother or I were officially declared to be traitors yet, but I was keeping a low profile just in case.

I spent the whole morning and into the afternoon scouting around.  While I was lurking behind some empty shipping crates having a rest, I heard the whining wheezy voice of none other than Beso himself.  As I peeked out, I saw that he had a young Kinderling woman by the arm, practically dragging her behind him.

"Come to my office where we can discuss your situation.  As you know, Chancellor Baot has put me in charge of food rationing."  He said with a leering grin. "You want food for your family, right?  You can have some if you play your cards right."

The tone of his voice disgusted me.  These mines provided more than enough mushrooms to feed the whole village. There shouldn't have been any need to ration food.  A few years back there was a season with almost no rain. A lot of food sources dried up, but nobody went hungry.  The mushroom farm was expanded and managed to feed everyone.  Mushroom production was even higher now than it was then, and there are sadly fewer mouths to feed.  Food was the last thing we needed to worry about.

I hid back down behind the crates, I had to find my Father but I wasn't sure how.  I wondered if Mama had one of those compass things for him, but surely she would have already used it if she did.  I supposed that I could go down into the mines and look, but the mines were huge, and I had a very good chance of getting lost.  I needed to find someone who knew where they were.  I'm sure Beso knew, but it wasn't like I could walk up and ask him.  I didn't want to be anywhere near that guy.

It was then that I noticed the kitten had climbed out of my pack and slipped past me.  To my surprise, the silly thing was following Beso.  If Beso found out she was mine, he would probably kill her out of spite.  I tried to quietly call her back, but she wouldn't come.  I had no choice but to follow as carefully and quietly as I could.

As I expected, with the kitten following Beso and me following the kitten, we all finally ended up at what I suspect was Beso's office.  Beso and the young woman went inside while I hid behind a rock formation a ways away.  Perhaps Beso might go visit my Father at some point and I would be able to follow him.  Without any other ideas, I settled in to watch the entrance to Beso's office.

Not long after, the young woman came out of the office, hair and clothing a mess, clutching a small bag.  She Was obviously crying.

The whole thing depressed me.  The Gorf had attacked our home, Father and Uncle Zon were being held prisoner somewhere, and my fellow Kinderlings were preying upon each other.  And here I was, hiding in the rocks, and my only hope of finding my Father was following one of the rotten eggs around, hoping he might feel like gloating.  What other reason would he have to visit my father?

At least the kitten hadn't given me away by meowing like she did when we were in the forest.  In fact she was practically smoke.  I was barely able to follow her while she was following Beso, and I'm sure there was no way he would have been able to see her following.

*"the bad one wants to capture you"*

I vaguely heard the voice in my head.  The kitten was staring straight at me, like she was concentrating on something.

*"if the bad one thinks you are where you seek he will go there"*

Again, I heard the voice in my head.  It was stronger that time.  Again, the kitten was practically staring right through me.  Then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Kinderling 4:

I headed for the cave mouth, asking a few stunned looking Kinderlings along the way where the wounded were being helped, and soon found my Mama.  Right where I expected her to be.  In the middle of it all, bringing peace and order to chaos.

"Tandy!  Help that youngster over there.  He has a cut that needs looking after." Commanded Mama without so much as a pause.  I could tell from the way she said it that she was relieved that I had been found, had assessed my health and decided I was all in one piece, and figured out how to make the best use of my meager talents.  All in a single blink.  A lot of people thought my Mama was a cold, hard person.  They just don't know her like I do.  The "Help that youngster over there" was practically a hug coming from my Mama.  Some people hug... well... differently than others.

The little boy did indeed have a cut on his arm.  A deep one that was going to need some stitches.  Before she realized that my talents didn't run towards healing, Mama and I had a few weeks of "training" that nearly put us at each other's throats.  I love to create, to invent, to build magic devices.  Healing?  I just don't have any talent for it.  Mama, no the other hand, is so bursting with healing talent that it practically sings from her.  Not that she can't build magic devices too, she just tends to build small ones that are useful for healing.  Like the stitching needle in my med kit.  Mama made it out of Kinderling silver, and enchanted it to sew stitches with little to no pain.  She also added a bit of something in there that kept wounds that are stitched with it from becoming infected.  It was practically the most valuable thing I owned.

I may not have a talent for healing, but the skills I learned during those few weeks, and the med kit Mama helped me put together, has really come in handy.  I can't count the number of times and the number of ways I would have been in real trouble if I hadn't have had it with me.  I never go anywhere without it.

That little boy sure looked scared though.  Mama would have just snagged him and zip zip zip, the stitches would be all done before the first tear had time to fall.  I, on the other hand couldn't do that.  Luckily, a tiny lavender furball intervened.  With the kitten distracting the boy, I was able to do what needed to be done.  The boy was a bit wiggly, and the stitches weren't exactly my best ever, but they would do, and he seemingly didn't even feel them, so there was no crying.  I told you my Mama does some good enchantment work.

I left the kitten to watch the boy... or the boy to watch the kitten... or, well, they would watch each other while I asked around to see if I could locate the kid's parents.  He wasn't exactly a toddler any more, but he was still far too young to be away from his parents.  I'm not dumb, I did keep an eye on him.  A kid like that can wander off when you are least expecting it and it was a bad time for a kid to wander off.  I asked around to see if anyone knew where the kid's parents were.  What I found was heartache.  His parents were gone.  I couldn't tell him.  I needed to tell him something, anything, but I couldn't even muster up the courage to lie or say a lame "everything will work out fine".  If it weren't for the kitten being there to distract him, I don't know what I would have done.

Look, I'm not a coward.  For the past few years, I've been out in the forest where the Gorfs live almost as much as I've been safe at home.  Cowards don't go out into the forest.  But I couldn't tell this poor little boy that his parents were gone.  Late that evening, the boy's Aunt found us and I was finally able to give the boy back to his family.  What was left of it anyway.  His Aunt seemed like a nice lady and I hoped things would work out and they would both have nice lives. I wished there was something, anything, that I could do to make that happen.  There were so many hurting people all around, the village was gone.  There was nothing I could do.

I was so worn out, I just unrolled the sleeping roll from my pack and curled up in the corner to sleep.  After a few minutes, the furry little kitten crawled in with me and I fell asleep with my face buried in her fluffy fur.

Mama woke me up.  To most people, it would have seemed abrupt, but I was used to Mama.  I think most people's Mamas can be like that when they are "on a mission".  Mine was like that all the time.  Sometimes my brother and I wondered how they got Mama to stand still long enough for us to be born.  When we asked Father, he just laughed.  Then said "Never ever say that to your mother."  Hey, I understood.  Mama knew what people thought of her, but she was who she was and couldn't, wouldn't change for anyone.  It's one of the reasons she opened a clinic at our home rather than working in the village infirmary.  It's also why a lot of older Kinderlings preferred to come to Mama for treatment.  As one old GrandMum once told me "The infirmary tends to coddle patients and lets them lie around and be worthless.  Your mother whips them back into shape and gets them back on their feet."

This time Mama wanted to talk.  Privately.  That's never a good sign.

"Both your Father and Zon are in jail, and I think Baot is looking for an excuse to put me in there with them.  Everything is going below and that bloated ego fool is playing power games."

"Can't, too many hurt people.  General Baot wouldn't dare put you in jail where you can't help out."  I replied, hoping that I was right.

"It gets worse.  Baot says he's declaring martial law, and saying that anyone not doing their part can be executed.  I think he's working up to having Zon or your father to prove he's in charge.  He's also been asking about your whereabouts, and saying what a good match you would make for his nephew."

I almost laughed.  "Well that isn't happening."

"He has enough Kinderlings scared enough to do whatever he says.  I think it's time we left, and I'm not leaving without your Father."

"Sounds like it's jailbreak time.  Where do you want me?"  I was all for this idea.  I didn't know this General Baot, but he seemed like a bully, and I really can't stand a bully.  A bully is a good part of the reason my parents had been letting me go out into the forest.  Oh, not for me to hide me from the bully.  They let me go to protect the bully from ME.  Mama caught me constructing some rather nasty devices and demanded to know what I was doing.  When she heard what I had in store for the poor lad, she took them away.  Most of them she wouldn't even let me test on the Gorfs!  And nobody likes a Gorf!

"Your job is to spring Zon and your Father from the cell they fashioned out of the old offices on level two.  For my part, I'll see about finding your brother and a few others and getting supplies.  Can you handle that?"

"Meet?"

"Tomorrow night, at the old barrel."  Was all Mama said.  She knew I would know where to go.

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Miami Pete 23:

I had never been to a fancy dress uniform dinner party.  I had never had a uniform before let alone a dress uniform, so I guess that isn't surprising.  When I saw the sheer number of utensils, I admit I panicked a little.  Then Mother Ahmisa had to go and apologize for not having a full set, and said she hoped it would be all right if we made due.

Not having a full set?

There were utensils on either side of my plate that I had never seen before.  Sure, there was the usual array of forks, spoons, and knives.  Which was confusing enough since I was used to using a spork on the rare occasion that I used a utensil at all.  Ration bars don't lend themselves to fancy eating.  But to have three forks, two spoons a knife, and another knife-like... thing...  Like a bent knife, and a curved scoopey thing sort-of like a spoon with the sides trimmed off, and the sides sharpened.

Cmdr. Barona finally noticed my confusion after a few moments and took over.

"Everyone find your seats please." she announced, and everyone found their place - Mother Ahmisa had even provided name tags - and stood behind their chairs.  I did likewise, not knowing what else to do.  "The Captain has a few words."

Drat.  I was sure Cmdr. Barona was getting me back for surprising her.

"Um..." I said, "Now that we have real uniforms, and well... welcome to The Haul-o-caster!"  It was lame.  I know nothing about public speaking.  I don't think I've ever seen anyone DO public speaking.  I was way out of my element, but the way the crew carried on cheering and clapping, you would have thought I'd have delivered a masterpiece.

Barona took over once again "Everyone be seated and enjoy."

What little I knew about Morgaites, I had expected to sit through a string of prayers to... Well, I didn't know who exactly, I didn't really know anything about the Morgan religion.  It's just reputed to be strict and demanding.  But what I saw was people, spacers, much like the ones I had met before.  Well, perhaps better dressed.  The uniforms were fabulous, but there was the same camaraderie that I recognized from other times I've seen crews gather.  These were my people.  I am a spacer, and these are my people.

It was a new feeling for me, a feeling of belonging.  Sure, I always felt like I belonged aboard the Haul-o-caster, and belonged with Pete, but this was different somehow.  Pete was my Captain, a father figure.  I belonged with him because in a way I belonged TO him.

This crew was different.  They chose to be here.  From what I could tell from the service jackets that Cmdr. Barona and I went through and from her comments, any of them could have found a position on nearly any ship in the Morganite fleet, yet they chose to volunteer for a birthing on the Haul-o-caster.  And by extension, they chose me.  Then backed up that choice by standing up and defending the Haul-o-caster against their fellow Morganites when Admiral Foster tried to take the 'rus system nav data by force.  I was happy when that incident was resolved without having to resort to violence, but I saw the look on my crew's faces.  Not a one of them was about to stand down.

I was thankful for the time I spent with each one of these crew members during our Captain's dinners, and the tutelage from Cmdr. Barona to prepare me for them.  Without it, I would surely have made a fool of myself.  This dinner was far more formal, yet I was able to relax a little bit and enjoy it.  At least I knew how to use a fork, after that first Captain's dinner, Cmdr. Barona showed me the proper way.  Who knew that there was a "proper" way of using a fork?  It has a pokey end, and a handle.  Obvious, right?  Not so much.  I had used a spork, but according to Cmdr. Barona, a spork isn't a proper eating utensil, and I was probably using it wrong too.  Ration bars are a lot easier to eat.  No need for a utensil, you just unwrap them and eat them out of hand.

The food was amazing.  Some of it I had no idea what it was, and there were a few things that Cmdr. Barona or Mother Ahmisa would quietly warn me not to eat very much of since my system wasn't used to "real" food.  After a short time, Cmdr. Barona got up saying she was going to relieve Lt. Tine so that he could join the party, but Lt. Cmdr. Dorn quickly asked if he could have the honor.

Kinderling 3:

Captain Zon of the Kinderling Militia and my father had been friends for as long as anyone knew.  Sometimes I swear their mother's birthed them out at the same time and somehow they were already old pals before the wetness of birth was washed off.  They do indeed share a birthday, although as far as I know Captain Zon's parents and my grandparents ran in much different circles, so it was highly unlikely that they knew each other.

Uncle Zon, as I call him, to my disappointment didn't seem at all surprised when I jumped down from the tree.

"Ah, Tandy.  Nice of you to join us.  We were looking for you, but you were well hidden, I presume by your no-see-me totem."  Uncle Zon was a big proponent of the militia buying as many no-see-me totems as I could produce.  There was, of course, a counter-movement involved that had all kinds of excuses why they shouldn't.  "She's too young, how can they possibly be reliable", "They are too expensive" (even though a price hadn't even been talked about), and my favorite "We don't need them.  Why should our patrols need to hide?"  Needless to say, the naysayers were all bean counter or administrators who never set foot outside the village.  Many of whom had never once seen a Gorf.

"If you couldn't find me, how is it that you managed to find the tree I was in?"  His men were most definitely surrounding the very tree I had sheltered in for the night.

"Your mother was kind enough to provide us with this compass, and we followed it right to you."  He replied, "Nice piece of kit that.  Your family comes up with the most amazing little devices."

I looked at the compass that Uncle Zon pulled out of his tunic.  It was wooden, and intricately carved in a way that only my mother could carve.  Intricate, beautiful, and graceful.  All while still looking rugged and dependable.  I only wish I could carve like that.  The compass was comprised of a round body with a hinged round lid, and a wooden needle inside that pointed right at me.  I never knew she had such a device.  It sure explained a lot, mama always seemed to know where to find me.  As I was wondering if I would be able to get a close enough look to discern how it was made, Uncle Zon closed the compass and put it back in his pocket.

"None of that young lady, your mother expressly told me not to let you inspect the compass too closely.  Something about not wanting you to get any ideas on how to defeat it.  Besides, now that we've found you, we must go quickly!"

"Uncle Zon," I asked, "Just why are the Militia out here looking for ME?  I've only been gone since yesterday and Mama doesn't usually start to worry till I'm three or four days overdue, one day overdue is normal."  It was true.  I wasn't an adult, and most kids my age, including kids that were a few years older, weren't allowed anywhere near the edge of Kinderling territory, let alone out into the forest beyond, but I often spent a few days at a time out in the forest.  I knew what I was doing, and I was always careful.  Well... except for bringing the kitten along this time, that was a pure bone-headed mistake.  One that once my parents got my report about, I always told them everything, I would probably get a good stern lecture for.

"Something has happened Tandy.  Some of the Gorf tribes have consolidated under a single leader and they have over-run the village.  We are heading to the mushroom gardens, your family is there.  From there, I don't know what will happen.  When I got your parents out of the village, your mother checked the compass and you were far from where she expected you to be.  She was worried that you had been taken by the Gorfs, so I offered to come find you.  I'm happy to see that all that worrying was for nothing."

"I'm sorry to cause such problems Uncle Zon.  I hope you won't get in trouble with the Eldest for wasting time on one stupid little Kinderling girl."  I truly was sorry, with Gorfs attacking the village, the Militia was bound to be needed elsewhere.

"Tandy, the Eldest is gone.  When the Gorfs attacked, they went strait for the central tree.  The Central Guard were overwhelmed.  They did things..."

Uncle Zon was clearly disturbed by what had happened.  I was sure I didn't want to know what he meant by "They did things".

I could tell we were taking a longer route to the Mushroom gardens, keeping well away from the paths we usually used.  I suspect that Uncle Zon was worried that the Gorfs were watching the paths, hoping to capture more Kinderlings. In spite of this, we eventually found our way to the Mushroom gardens.

Calling them the Mushroom gardens doesn't really do a good job of describing them.  Originally, it was nothing but a cave.  Then and enterprising young Kinderling explorer decided to map the entire cave system since nobody knew exactly what was down there.  During his explorations, the Kinderling found a vein of silver in one of the lower chambers.  Soon he had a silver mine established.  Then a smelter.  Artisans in the village used the silver to create such wondrous works of art and magical devices that traders came from far and wide to trade for Kinderling Silver.  That was when the Gorfs came.

It isn't really known if all the extra wealth is what brought the Gorfs, or if it was just a natural migration, but came they did.  Before long the trade route, already difficult because the encroaching forest, became impassable.  With no trade, there was no reason to mine more than the small amounts of silver wanted by the villagers.  That's  where the Mushroom Gardens came in.  The enterprising young explorer, no longer so young, but still enterprising realized that with Gorfs surrounding the village, it would become more and more dangerous to go into the forest to gather food.  So he turned huge parts of the silver mine to mushroom growing.

We arrived in time to witness a heated argument.  My father, a well respected leader and member of the Elder's council, was arguing with the head of the Militia, General Baot.

"I will not send men that are needed here, off on a wild goose chase!  The militia has already lost half of it's men, and you've sent that fool Zon off to his death chasing after that flighty girl of yours!" Yelled the General.

Off to his death?  I quickly checked.  Nope, Uncle Zon was very much alive.

"That girl needs to settle down and marry a nice boy like my nephew Beso, and quit fiddling with all that useless, dangerous magic before she harms herself!"  The General continued.  "She'll never find a good husband this way!"

"All we need is a small number of soldiers, perhaps a squad, to escort an ambassador down the old trade road to the Kingdom of Dorinth.  There the ambassador can re-new ties with the Dorinth, and request help.  We have a Treaty.  In accordance with the Treaty, they will render aid."  My father was angrier than I had ever seen him.

"Well good thing this is a militia matter, ELDER," The General spat "So I'm in charge and you can't waste any more lives.  Nobody is going to Dorinth.  We haven't had contact with Dorinth since before I was born, and I don't think they'll bother to uphold a dusty old Treaty that nobody remembers."

"I am the only surviving member of the Elder's council.  Until a new government is formed, it's my call, and we are sending an ambassador to Dorinth.  The rest can retreat into the Mushroom garden and wait until Dorinth comes, or the Gorf get bored and wander off."

"Sargent!  Take this man into custody for his own protection!"

I was shocked.  The Sargent motioned to a couple of his men and they grabbed my father and tied his hands behind his back.  Sure, father struggled, but as much as I love my father, I have to admit that he's pretty soft and doughy.  He's a thinker, not a fighter, and it didn't take much for those soldiers to subdue him.  Of course he yelled and cussed the whole time until one of the soldiers had enough and socked him up-side the head with his fist.  Father didn't make much of a fuss after that.

"Maybe you should go find your mother." Uncle Zon whispered to me.  "As much as I dread it, duty demands that I report to the General that I've returned."

As much as I heard about people being injured, I was sure that my mother would be in the thick of things.  Mama was one of the village healers, although she tended to work on her own rather than work in the infirmary with the other healers.  At a time like this, they wouldn't turn away the help.  The only logical place for the healers to set up shop would be inside the caves that lead to the mushroom gardens.

As I walked away, I cringed when I heard the General's voice yell "Sargent! Take this deserter into custody!"

I sure hoped Uncle Zon would be okay.  I almost turned around and went back, but what would I be able to do?  I was just a kid.

Friday, December 7, 2018

Kinderling 2

NOTE:  OK, switching over to first person.  Hope that doesn't mess anyone up.  This whole thing should have started out first person.

Kinderling 2:

I took a few moments to get my bearings.  I wasn't exactly able to navigate while I was flying on the go-stick, it was all I could do to keep from running into a tree.  Navigating at that speed?  No Sir, Ma'am.  It was way too fast for that.  Boy was it a rush though.

Once I figured out roughly where I was, I realized that I should have pointed the go-stick in a different direction.  Why do I always get myself into these messes?  I wasn't exactly further away from home and safety than I was, but I wasn't exactly closer either.  South I thought.  Yea, South should take me to the big ravine.  Providing the Gorfs didn't get the big idea of waiting for me at the bridge, I would be able to cross and be home free.  No Gorf in his right mind would follow me across the bridge to the Southern side of the Big Ravine.  Any that were that stupid wouldn't survive the Kinderling Militia that patrols the South side of the Ravine.  Those guys have no sense of humor when Gorfs are involved.

I was soon zipping through the woods at a run, naughty kitten in my pack with his head sticking out the top and his nose in the breeze.  Normally, I wouldn't have put a kitten into a pack, but without the go-stick there was plenty of room, and it wasn't like the kitten could keep up at this pace.  As I said, I am among the quickest of my kind.  Still, even I am no where near as fast as the go-stick was.  That flight was just plain terrifying.

After running through the forest for a while, I slowed to a walk.  The forest in this area is lush and green with huge ferns and that pleasant earthy smell that makes you want to take a nap.  As far as I could tell, I had finally given the Gorfs the slip.  Or as much of a slip as anyone ever gives the Gorf with their big fat noses anyway.  The real trick to it is getting far enough ahead of them that they grow bored and wander off before they manage to catch up.  It's not usually a problem, but sometimes you come across a particularly single-minded Gorf and days later, there he is.  Still following along.

I stopped for a few minutes for a quick swig from my water skin, and to listen carefully.  I could only hear the normal forest stirrings, and a low vibration sound from my pack.  The kitten had curled up and fallen asleep and was purring like a cat ten times her size.  Talk about punching above your weight.  More importantly, what I didn't hear was that "sniff sniff, mutter mutter" sound that usually accompanies a Gorf on a trail.

Continuing on, by evening I managed to finally find the Big Ravine.  It took me a lot longer than I expected, and I'm not ashamed to say that I had started to get worried.  It's easy to lose track or your direction while strolling through the forest.  It isn't like you can reliably see the Sun with all the leaves and branches in the way. 

Again I listened carefully.  No "sniff sniff, mutter mutter", so for now I was probably fine.  It was starting to get late and while a Kinderling does have decent night vision, the area North of the Big Ravine is known to have a lot of crevices to fall into, and rumor has it, there is a nasty subterranean Gorf tribe that lives in the area and only comes out at night.  I sure didn't want to meet any of those.

The only thing to do was to look for a tree with a nice big branch high enough to make a perch for the night and start out again in the morning.  Luckily, this part of the forrest was full of large trees, so finding a likely spot wouldn't be difficult. 

This adventure was supposed to have been a short look-about to find the just-right place to test my go-stick, and then a quick jog home to write-up my findings.  Father always insisted that I keep a journal for notes about the magical devices that I create.  Normally, I would have just brought it with me, but it didn't fit in my pack along with the go-stick, so I left it at home.  Nothing I could do about that now.  I would just have to try to remember everything till I got home.

Branch found, I scurried up the tree.

There is an art to tree-camping.  The first issue is not falling to your doom when you roll over in your sleep.  The answer isn't as difficult as you might think.  Most Kinderlings, at least ones that wander outside the safety of the village, keep a hammock in their packs just in case.  When looking for a tree to camp in, it's important to find one with a spot where you can tie up your hammock where it can't be easily seen from the ground.  Gorfs don't climb trees unless they have a reason to.  It's a failing, to go with all their other failings, I know.  But that doesn't stop them from looking up in the trees for a reason.  If a Gorf were to look up and see a Kinderling hammock, for instance.  That would be a reason for a Gorf to climb a tree.  So the best camping trees are the big ones, without any low branches to help a Gorf climb up and get you and a nice fat branch to hide your hammock by hanging it above the branch.

Of course, being me, my hammock has an extra twist.  I've enchanted a no-see-me totem that gently pushes eyes away and attached it to the under-side of my hammock.  It took me about a year to get the totem right, but now that I have it perfected, it works a treat.  I wouldn't leave home without it for anything.  Even the Kinderling Militia is interested in buying some as soon as I can get them made.  Sadly, the totem doesn't seem to have any effect on Gorf noses, so I might still wake up to find Gorfs stumbling around the base of my tree, but as long as they don't see me, they probably won't get excited enough to climb.  So I should be safe.

Nightfall found me in my hammock, with a small, possibly magical lavender kitten curled up on my chest.  I kept trying to sleep, but I couldn't. I kept going over and over the go-stick in my mind trying to figure out why it flew so much faster than I expected, and why it disintegrated so quickly.  Sure, I'd seen magic destroy some stuff before.  When I was small, I experimented on anything I could get my hands on, and I had very little control over my magic, so being covered in a fine black powder as yet another of my mother's carved napkin rings... somehow... went poof during a long, boring dinner party - complete with very important guests - wasn't unheard of.

"I don't know what happened Mama.  I was just sitting her concentrating on being a good girl and poof!" I would claim.  Yea... I don't think she believed me.  Not even once.  I think she started teaching me out of frustration for her napkin rings, and maybe for her social standing.

When I woke the next morning it seemed like only moments had passed and I hadn't slept a wink, but it was undeniably morning so I must have drifted off.  The kitten was still there and I was glad she?  He?  hadn't wandered off in the night.

Then I heard it.  "Sniff snuff, mutter mutter."  Coming from below.

I froze.  How had the Gorfs found me?  Surely I had gone far enough that even the most obsessed Gorf wouldn't have followed me.  And while Gorf tribal politics weren't something I knew much about, I was sure I had gone far enough to cross into another tribe's area.  According to my father's Militia friend, they have observed that Gorf tribes tend to be territorial.  I suppose they could have followed my scent trail this far, but why would they expend the effort?  Gorfs tend to be lazy, and there are much easier ways for a Gorf to find dinner than following MY trail all this far.

I wanted to peek, to see what the Gorf - Gorfs? - were doing, but I didn't dare.  They sounded like they were around the base of my tree.  The no-see-me totem should keep them from seeing me even if I peeked, but it isn't a sure thing and if they did see me there was no way I would escape this time.  They wouldn't even have to climb up and get me, they could easily shoot arrows or throw rocks till they hit me or I fell out of the tree. 

I stayed as quiet and still as I could.  Maybe they would lose interest eventually and wander off.

Then I heard a particularly un-Gorf-like sneeze, which was answered by a number of also very un-Gorf-like laughs.  I had been found by a Kinderling Militia patrol.  What a relief.

Friday, November 23, 2018

Miami Pete 22:

The rest of the flight to the hyper-jump point went smoothly.  The only thing of note being when the 'rus ships arrived well ahead of us and jumped away without causing any further issues.

When we arrived at the jump point, one of the destroyers, the Polly Bont, was sent through ahead of the task force to reconnoiter the other side.  Twenty minutes later, it returned with the news that it was all clear on the other side and the 'rus ships were nowhere in sight.  It occurred to me that that poor crew had gone through two hyper-jumps in less than a half hour, and presumably they would be taking their place in the task force and be jumping a third time.  That's a LOT of jumps in such a short time.  I felt for the crew.

Don't get me wrong.  I had long since gotten used to hyper-jumps.  Pete and I had hyper-jumped all over the place in our time together, including some of the longest jumps known.  Contrary to what the dirt-siders believed, hyper jumps are not instant.  Most only take a few seconds, but there are a few that take much longer.  Some are smooth and easy, while others make you wonder if the universe wants you dead.  As far as I've ever been able to find, nobody really knows why.  Rough hyper-jumps are hard on ships.  Nav data for a given jump point usually includes how long a jump will take, and a code for how rough it is.  I've even seen where someone added a  second by second rundown on what to expect in the Notes section.  My experience has been that the time and roughness code were usually pretty spot on, but the notes were nearly worthless.  I don't think two hyper-jumps are ever quite the same.  Some hauler Captains are careful to plan their hauls so that they can avoid the rougher hyper-jumps.   Pete, on the other hand, never balked at any hyper-jump run.  If it was there, and that was where we needed to go, that was where we went.  That attitude made us quite a bit of money over the years.  A run from Tampus III to Meritus V can take 23,864 seconds end-to-end, if you don't mind getting your brain rattled a little bit.  That's one jump that takes over six and a half hours. Or you can take the long road by traversing five different hyper-jump points and get there in around seven days including the time it takes traveling from jump-point to jump-point.  We always went the fast way.  Pete would simply have us suspend ourselves using bungee cords, and turned off the artificial grav.  Sure, we bounced around quite a bit, but it was almost fun.  The early delivery bonus was incredible.

The jump from Morgaite space back to Otford was pretty easy as far as hyper-jumps go.  It only takes about 36 seconds, and while it does have a medium roughness code, I wouldn't classify it as such.  It really feels like driving over a hill at high speed in a ground car.  There's an initial "oof", and then a "WEEEE!" and then you are out.  It always takes a few hours for my stomach to settle down from the "WEEEE!", but it isn't like it hurts or anything.

When we arrived at Ortford, the task force visited the former location of Ortford station.  And boy do I mean former.  It was gone.  The only thing left was wreckage.  there were a few bigger pieces that had obviously once been part of the station, and a few chunks that looked like they were probably from one of the various ships that had met their end, and nothing else.  The order came down from Force that we were going to stop for a day so that the wreckage could be investigated.  I didn't know why they were bothering, there wasn't a chance that anyone had survived and was still floating around in the wreckage.  But if they wanted to look, they could look as far as I was concerned.  We were on their dime.

Since the Haul-o-caster wasn't part of the investigation effort, I decided it was time to break out the goodies.  All I said was "Can someone go break out the new uniforms and distribute them." and there was practically a stampede.  Even Cmdr Barona ran for the hatch leading to the cargo bay.  Lt Cmdr Dorn and I were the only ones left on the bridge.

Lt Cmdr Dorn looked at where everyone had gone and raised an eyebrow, "Indeed" he said and turned back to his station.

"Indeed" I replied.  Dorn was one funny man, terrifying, but funny.

Good thing we weren't planning on going anywhere.

Before long, blue uniforms started appearing as the crew returned.  Everyone had huge smiles on their faces like it was the best day ever.  Morganites sure do like them some uniforms... who knew?

As the crew was fussing over their new uniforms, I tracked down Mother Ahmisa with an idea.

That evening, I had Cmdr Barona call a dress-uniform inspection for all hands in cargo bay one.  You should have seen the down faces on the people around me as the call went out.  I got the impression that while the Morganites did love having fancy uniforms, that didn't translate to loving uniform inspections.  Nobody loves inspections.  Well... nobody on the receiving end anyway.

This was going to be awesome. 

I recruited Chief Williamson and PO Smart to help with the surprise along with Mother Ahmisa.  I was told that my part in the surprise would be to stay on the bridge and run interference so that they could work without anyone finding out.  It was an easy task because everyone not on duty, or working on the surprise, were frantically trying to get brand-new uniforms into good enough shape to stand an inspection.  If you've ever had to do that, you'll know what I mean.

The time finally came for me to don my own dress uniform and meet my co-conspirators in cargo bay one.  When I arrived, I found the biggest spread of food that I had ever seen.  I don't know where they got them, but the Chief and PO Smart had found tables and chairs enough for everyone, and Mother Ahmisa found table linens and place settings.  Not just the ship's usual recyclable ones, real china and glass place settings with metal utensils.  To top all of that, there was REAL FOOD!  Meats and vegetables.  Other stuff I couldn't even begin to identify.  Bottles of wine.  Bread.  It was all far beyond what I was expecting.

To understand my surprise, you might need to remember that I'd been on the Haul-o-caster for well over ten years, and didn't have a whole lot of memories from before that time.  Ship-board food, by necessity, is usually ration bars.  I'd been eating ration bars for so long, that when I thought of "food", I was generally thinking of ration bars.  In that time, I also rarely left the Haul-o-caster.  So when Pete would go out to talk to perspective clients, or have dinner with a contact, or whatever.  I usually stayed behind.  He ate whatever one eats at a "dinner with a contact".  I just grabbed another ration bar from the bin in the "galley".

Pete once brought me an apple.  It took him twenty minutes to convince me that he wasn't playing a joke on me, and that it really was food. 

Then it took an hour before I finally figured out how to actually eat the thing.  Don't laugh.  Ever try to bite a big round thing?  Go ahead, imagine it, but don't think apple, think big round thing.  Not really a strong natural inclination there is it?  The point is, there isn't any handy corner or starting place.  Pete told me "you just have to bite it.  How hard can that it be?"

How hard can that be? 

Pete finally took pity on me and cut the apple in half. 

So you'll have to forgive me for being so taken aback by the amount and variety of foods.  Everything smelled so good.  I had no idea what most of those smells were, but I was in serious danger of drooling all down the front of my nice new fancy dress uniform.

As people arrived, most of them entered the cargo bay hatch with a look of dread.  Uniform inspections were never popular. 

Then they would see the spread, and their faces would go from dread, to confusion, and then to a smile.  I would watch the transformation, and when it was complete, I directed them to find a seat.

The last to arrive, other than Lt. Tine who I later found out had been detailed to bridge-watch duty, was Cmdr. Barona.  I think she had planned it that way, because she walked in with a rather large, officious looking clipboard, and a scowl, ready to met out some uniform inspection justice. Then she looked up and took in the room, and her mouth fell open.  In the time I had known her, I had come to think of Cmdr. Barona as being completely unflappable.  When we had received word that Admiral Foster was on his way to arrest us, I know I was scared.  Cmdr. Barona just took a deep breath like she does, let it out, and proceeded to give commands to get everyone ready to repel borders.  Like it was just another day's work.

But not this time.  This time I got her.

"Captain?  What is all this?"  She asked.

"Well, we got all these fancy new uniforms, and I thought we needed a good enough reason to wear them."

Friday, November 16, 2018

Miami Pete 21:

I could almost FEEL the news spreading about the ship that our new uniforms had arrived, but we were all hands on deck for the launch of the Task Force, so everyone was still wearing their old uniforms.  We weren't sure what the 'rus had planned, but to get to the hyper-jump point, we would have to edge right past them.

The past few days had been a flurry of meetings and planning.  At one point, an Admiral named Foster was chosen to lead the Task Force, and I could tell that Admiral Thomas wasn't happy about it.  Sure enough, Admiral Foster sent Storm Troopers to arrest me and my crew, demanding that we hand over the navigation data for the 'rus system.  Luckily we were warned well enough in advance, by the time they got to the Haul-o-caster, we had buttoned up tight, and they weren't able to get in before Admiral Thomas interviened.  I'm not sure what he said, but Admiral Foster stood down his attack and ran like the hounds of Hadies were on his tail.  After that strings, I'm sure, were pulled and Admiral Thomas became the new head of the Task Force.

Oddly enough, I think it ended up as a trade, because Admiral Foster was put in charge of Task Force Bravo.  When I asked Admiral Thomas, he said it was a slight demotion for Foster, and a slight promotion for him, but Foster could only blame himself because he overstepped his bounds when he tried to arrest me and my crew and appropriate private property without just cause.  Apparently, along with their religion which they are pretty tight-lipped about, the Morganites also believe pretty strongly in individual liberty and property rights.  Who knew?

Task Force 'rus was comprised of one battleship, two heavy cruisers, a pair of carriers, and a few dozen light cruisers and destroyers.  Added to that was the tender, A heavy fuel hauler, and a couple big supply freighters that comprised the "Fleet Train".  Oh, and little ol' Hauley.  The big iron, the battleship and the heavy cruisers were up front to form a wedge, with the carriers not far behind.  Haul-o-caster was safely snuggled between the carriers. The fleet train tucked in behind us, and the light cruisers and destroyers formed a grid that surrounded the entire back half of the formation, ready to move up if needed and ready to protect our soft flanks.

"Forward the Task Force as planned on my mark!" came the command from the Admiral through the comms.  I nodded to Ensign Barnes at the con, as if meant something, and was surprised to receive an "Eye eye, Captain!" in reply.  Neat!

It's not really possible to "sneak" in space, especially with an entire Task Force.  So the 'rus had to know we were coming.  I had the sensor suite pulled up on Pete's...  I mean, my... personal screen on the captain's console, watching to see what they would do.  They didn't move.

"Captain, I'm getting reports from the Task Force that the 'rus are powering up weapons" came the voice of Ensign Shelly, sitting at the communications station.

Then all heck broke loose.

"Captain, 'rus ships firing on lead vessels."  Informed Shelly, with only a small rise in the pitch of her voice.

"Steady as she goes helm." I heard myself say, "Comm, inform me if we receive any orders from Force."

"Baskins firing main guns." Shelly informed.  Hecktor C. Baskins was the name of the big battleship.  I had no idea who this Hecktor person was in Morganite space, but it must have been something good to have a battleship named after him.

"Scratch one 'rus! And another one!" Shelly proclaimed excitedly.  "The other's are turning tail and running towards the hyper-jump point."

"Excellent, Well done everyone." I said.  Well, they did do good.  Nobody paniced and everyone calmly did their jobs.  If this was the most exciting thing that happened on this trip, I would be content.

"Force says steady as she goes Captain.  We'll jump as planned when we reach the hyper-jump point."

"Acknowledge that Shelly."

"Eye eye, Captain."

Thursday, November 15, 2018

Kinderling 1

I'm just going to put this here for fun.  Not sure if I'll do anything more with it.  Might re-write in first person as the MC has a fun voice and about half-way through I wondered if It shouldn't have started it that way:

Kinderling 1:

"Sssh!  Kitten, you have to be quiet."

Taking a kitten on an adventure was such a bad idea.  Tandy knew that, but it was so cute and fluffy, and this particular kitten was such an odd color of lavender, it HAD to be magic.  Well, not lavender really.  It was more like gray, but it was a very lavenderish gray.  How could she resist bringing him - her? She would check later - along?  She just wanted to squish it's adorable little face.  Besides, Tandy had had such high hopes for this kitten.  She was sure it would be the one she would bond with and finally have a familiar of her very own.  Too bad it was probably going to get them both killed.  Her parents were going to be so angry.

"Nothing for it but to run.  Get ready kitten."

"Meow?"

Tandy studied the Gorfs that were tracking them, looking for an opening.  They probably knew she was in the area because they could smell her with their big stupid Gorf noses.  That wasn't usually a problem for a Kinderling as fast as Tandy.  Gorfs could follow the faintest of scent trails for days on end but they couldn't do it quickly.  Kinderlings, on the other hand, were quick and Tandy was among the quickest.

Then the kitten had to go and start all that meowing.  Apparently, Gorf ears weren't anywhere near as slow as their noses.

Tandy finally saw her opening and took it.  Exploding out of her hiding place under a thicket, Tandy threw down her latest magical device and jumped on.  She called it a go-stick.  It was mostly just a branch from a tree that she had nagged her older brother into carving so it would be nice and flat on the top and pointed on one end, which became the front.  Once it was just the right shape, and sanded smooth as she could get it, Tandy then took to carving runes of air, lightness, and most importantly quickness - Tandy's favorite - it connecting them with just the right runic bridges, and pushing her magic as hard as she could manage.

It had worked!  Off like a shot through the forest Tandy went, lavenderish kitten in tow - She couldn't very well have left the poor thing behind, the Gorfs would have made it into soup - laughing the whole way.  There was no way the Gorfs could catch them.  If she was honest with herself, Tandy would have to admit that she wasn't quite sure the device would do anything, and escaping a Gorf hunting party was a poor place to test out new ideas, but luckily it worked and they were speeding away faster than Tandy imagined was possible.

Then the magic ran out.

The crash was horrendous.  Tandy landed on her head.  The kitten landed on it's feet, as kittens always do.

Grumbling and rubbing her aching head, Tandy staggered to her feet.  She was happy to see the kitten had made it through everything unscathed.  Perhaps the kitten is magical after all.  She could hear the Gorfs crashing through the forest chasing her, it wouldn't be long before they arrived.  The flight had given her a bit of a head start, but Gorfs were too dumb to give up, so she needed to get moving. 

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Miami Pete 20:

The next day, I was hard at work in my office.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I was sitting there trying to come up with a single solitary thing that I was supposed to do.  My morning was spent walking around looking for something that needed to be done, and as soon as I found something and started doing it, one of the Morganites would come along and take over.

I did manage to get a few minutes with Dr. Farn, and the process of copying, Dr. Farn called it exporting, the engine technical details took all of half a minute.  I took the chip down to engineering, and handed it to a confused Chief Williamson because Petty Officer Smart wasn't around.  I'm guessing he was off doing some work somewhere.  When the Chief plugged the data chip in and looked at the contents he almost fainted.

"This is incredible!  Where did you get all this?  This is everything we need to work on the engines!"  he exclaimed.

"It was all in my head."

I don't think he believed me.

So I was hard at work trying to figure out what I was supposed to be doing, when Cmdr. Barona knocked on the hatch.  The whole thing confused me for a second, since I hadn't had anyone knock on my hatch before.  Pete was master and commander of his vessel.  He never knocked, and the few passengers that we've had over the years probably saw me as a thing rather than a person.  So most of them didn't bother to interact with me, the ones that did didn't bother with such niceties as knocking.

"Come!"  I said.  Hey, that's what Pete always said.  So who was I to buck tradition.

"I've come with some design ideas for a uniform for you Captain."  She said, and showed me a data pad with some drawings.

The first drawing I threw out right off.  It was basically a Morganite uniform, with a whole lot of frills and ruffles, and even a rope thingie around one shoulder.

"But, that's the standard Captain's uniform."  Cmdr. Barona said when I expressed displeasure at all the frockery.

"No thanks!  You said I wouldn't have to wear a Morganite uniform since I'm not a Morganite, and THAT mess would make me feel ridiculous." I replied.

I hoped I didn't hurt her feelings since I highly suspected that Cmdr. Barona was hoping to one day wear one of those Captains uniforms herself.

The next drawing was perfect.  Blue, not too dark, but dark enough to not show every little smudge.  The main part was basically a ship suit, but it had a jacket that made it look professional.  On the jacket was the name "Haul-o-caster" above a pretty good likeness of Hauley, looking down on the ship from above, and a Morganite Captain's rank insignia on the collar.

It was perfect.

"You can blame Tine for that one." Cmdr. Barona said with disgust. "I told him to do a blue version of the Morganite maroon.  Maybe if I get someone to add some decoration to it.  That might work.  Maybe some glowing orange wings on the back.  You have to look like you're in charge after all."

It took me a moment to realize that she was kidding me.

"HAHA!  Captain, the look on your face!"  exclaimed the smiling Barona.  "I knew you would like the blue one as soon as I saw it.  For a hard looking man, that Lieutenant Tine sure is an artist.  If you like it, I can get you set up with everything you need.  Tine was nice enough to include specs for everything, and the Task Force has priority right now.  I almost wish we had time enough for Tine to design up matching uniforms for the whole crew."

"How does that work?  I thought you were all Morgan Fleet, so you had to wear Morganite uniforms."

"There is lee-way Captain." Cmdr. Barona replied.  "It's common for Morganites who are working Outside to take on the uniform of the ship that they are crewing."

"Well, how much work does our talented Lieutenant Tine have?  Is there way to abduct some help for him from somewhere?  And how much priority do we have?  Enough?"  I asked.

Cmdr. Barona looked thoughtful for a moment, then said "I'll get right on it!"

We ended up receiving the shipment of a full ship's complement of uniforms, along with all the accouterments that anyone could dream of, and enough spares to cover any likely contingencies, mere minutes before we had to lift off to take our place in Task Force formation.

Monday, October 29, 2018

Miami Pete 19:

A few days later I was cleaning in cargo bay 3, and the communicator beeped.

"Captain Petra, I have some people that I would like you to meet.  Are you available?" Said Admiral Thomas when I answered.

I found it a little odd that I was both cleaning cargo bays, and answering comms.  Both Al and Grace had been making themselves scarce for the last few days.  I think when they found out I was taking the job with the Morganite task force, and taking on a few Morganites for crew (and pointedly wasn't taking them on as crew), they worried that I might get it in my head to dump them out an airlock.  I'm not sure what gave them that idea.  Perhaps it was when Al started assuming the ship Executive Officer position, and demanded the access to the ship's computer and ship systems that normally went with that position.  I kind-of lost it a little.  You understand right?  I was surprised, and felt a little threatened when he started yelling, and the words "I'll space you before I give you any position on this ship you slimy bastard!" MAY have passed my lips.

Grace didn't even try.

Which makes me a little sad, since in spite of what she'd done to me at the behest of her previous Captain, I actually liked Grace a little.  Sure, I wondered if it was really me, or if it was her manipulating me so that instead of spacing her, maybe I would put her down somewhere nice.  You know... with air and stuff.  But I didn't think so, it didn't feel like that.  I didn't think I would ever be able to completely trust her, but I so wished that we could become friends of a sort.

Admiral Thomas had his twin Storm Trooper shadow as always, but also had a small platoon of people with him, all but a couple of them wearing smart Morganite uniforms.  The couple without uniforms wore ship suits.  Ship suits are like overalls, only they seal tight enough to seal out space, or more precisely, seal IN atmosphere so that the wearer has air to breath.  They won't keep you alive more than a few minutes if you are sucked out into space, but that's often enough time to get rescued.  Or at least one might hope.  They also have hookups so that external air tanks or a hose hooked up to ship life support, can be plugged in.

The Admiral indicated the woman at the head of the formation "Captain Petra, I would like to introduce you to Commander Barona. I'm recommending her to you to fill the Exec position."

I looked at her.  She was tall, and strong, and athletic, and beautiful.  Everything I would never be.  Next to her I felt like a toad.  Just as I was all set to dislike this woman, "Hello Captain, I believe we've had a number of conversations over the years.  I am overjoyed to finally meet you."

It was that voice.  That calm, in control, content voice that I forever looked forward to on those occasions when Pete and I had a haul that took us into Morganite space.  Pete had told me on more than one occasion that I probably would never meet this person and I believed him.  Now here she was, standing right in front of me.

I'm afraid I stood there like an idiot with my mouth agape until I was jerked back to reality by Commander Barona asking "Are you okay Captain, do you need some water?"  I recovered with a start.  Did I need some water?  No, I needed whiskey... LOTS of whiskey.  Huh? Where did that thought come from?

"No, I was just...  I just never thought I would meet you in person Commander Barona.  So I was startled."  I replied.  Smooth move Petra, way to show them you can handle yourself.

"If she is not satisfactory." the Admiral asked, looking concerned. "I can find you someone else..."

"No!"  I interrupted, "Commander Barona is very much satisfactory."

"Good, I'll leave it to her to introduce the rest.  I have some tactical meetings I must attend."  The Admiral excused himself.

Once all the saluting and military deportment and all that finished, I would have to get used to all that now I suppose, and the Admiral was safely away,  Commander Barona started introducing me to everyone.

"First, we have Lieutenant Commander Dorn, who the Admiral and I believe will make an exceptional weapons and security officer. I've heard very good things about him and the Admiral has worked with him for years."

Dorn was terrifying.  Tall, with muscles piled upon muscles, and that look of quiet, confident, restrained violence that I had grown to recognize from when Pete and I would dock at a station and I had need to walk around.  Pete pointed out this kind of man on a number of occasions.  Dorn was the kind of man that even the most hardened criminals would go out of their way to avoid.  I instantly liked him, and was terrified of him, all at once.

"Next we have our bridge crews, Ensigns Barns and Shelly for helm and comm, and Lieutenant Tine for astrogation."  To my surprise, Barns and Shelly were both fresh-faced girls, neither of them looked old enough to be out of school, let alone in the military, yet they both wore the Morganite uniform like they were born to it.  Barns was short, thin, and sharp, with dark hair and dark eyes.  Shelly was her exact opposite being tall and curvy in that way that only very athletic women who have won the genetic "knock out figure" lottery can be.  She had bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and reminded me of a girl from an advertisement.  Lieutenant Tine on the other hand was a past middle aged, gaunt, man with a pock-marked face, and a shocking number of unattractive tattoos.  He was the first Morganite that I had ever seen with tattoos.  He saw me looking at them.

"Ma'am, I spent a number of years in maximum security prison and was just recently exonerated.  I beg you please Captain to give me a chance.  I know astrogation like the back of my hand, and I need to go outside.  Morganites can be wonderful, forgiving people, but when they see my prison tattoos, they assume the worst."  Lt. Tine said.

I looked at Cmdr. Barona, and she nodded.  So I said "Very well Lt. Tine, Welcome aboard."  The look of relief on his face only made me like him even more.  In a world full of Baronas and Shellys, us homely people have to stick together.

As we approached the next person, one of the ones in a ship suit rather than a uniform, Commander Barona didn't have a chance to get out an introduction.

"X0142basil! It is so nice to see how well you are doing." he paused obviously expecting something, then finally continuing "No, I guess you probably don't remember me.  I'm Doctor Farn.  I'm the Doctor that patched you back together when that scoundrel Miami Pete dragged you in!  How is Mr. Pete?"

I wasn't sure I liked the idea of anyone calling Pete a scoundrel.  This man was definitely rubbing me the wrong way already.

"Dead." I said.

The poor man visibly deflated. "I'm sorry, I didn't know.  I've been working so hard lately...  I didn't know..."  Dr. Farn was a short, chubby, balding man a little past what one might call middle aged.  And he looked like he was about to fall over.

"Someone get the good Doctor something to sit on."  Commander Barona commanded.  It wasn't quite a "bark" like some officers, it was more of a statement of what would happen, at a slightly elevated volume so that everyone could hear.  But it carried with it such a force of command that even I started looking for a chair.  Within seconds, a cargo crate appeared behind the Doctor just in time for him to sit.

"I didn't know. Are you sure?  Pete was so..." the Doctor was in shock.

"I was there, Miami Pete is gone."  I said carefully.  The Doctor was taking the news of Pete's death a lot harder than I expected anyone to.  I knew Pete had friends in Morgain Space.  Pete made friends everywhere he went, but I never expected anyone would take his death this hard.

Doctor Farn shook his head and snapped out of it. "Oh child, here I am carrying on like this without even considering how you must feel.  I am sorry for your loss, Pete and I were close friends and shared some adventures together once upon a time."

Adventures?   I would have to have a conversation with Dr. Farn at some point.

I thanked the Doctor, and smiled and moved on whispering to Cmdr Barona "Do you think Dr. Farn is physically well enough for this mission?"

"I believe so." She answered.  "Dr. Farn is one of the top scientists specializing in cybernetics in Morgain Space, and may very well mean the difference between success or failure in our endeavor.  I also believe that the Admiral intends to keep Haul-o-caster as far away from harm as possible.  So having Dr. Farn on board the Haul-o-caster is probably the best place for him."

The next two were obvious because they were wearing a "getting my hands dirty" version of the Morgnaite uniform.  Cmdr. Barona introduced Chief Williamson, and Petty Officer Smart.  My new Engineering crew.  I admit, I bristled a bit at the very idea that of someone other than me doing any work on Hauley.  Other than the rare re-fitting work that required special equipment, I had turned every bolt, overhauled every component, and preformed every single bit of maintenance that had gotten done for years.  For that matter, on those rare occasions, I always found time to personally inspect every bit of the work.

It was Chief Williamson who put me at ease, "I see that look Captain, and I completely understand.  I assure you that I am intimately familiar with the Haul-o-caster's chassis design, early in my career, I worked on the very assault ship model that was used to build her.  I've also worked on the engines used on our deep space patrol ships.  I believe the Haul-o-caster herself was part of the inspiration for those ships.  I believe in performing preventative maintenance before it's due, and keeping on top of even little problems so they don't become big problems.  Every repair is an opportunity to discover why the repair was necessary, and look into ways of making the ship more reliable.  But I promise, before we consider making any change, you will be consulted and kept in the loop."

The final person was also in a ship suit rather than a Morganite uniform.  She was an older woman, who looked almost motherly.  Cmdr. Barona smiled at her and introduced her.  "Captain, for our final member, this is Mother Ahmisa.  She is to be our Morale officer.  Each Morganite ship has a Morale officer, with some of the largest ships having a whole Morale section."

"Do we really need a Morale officer?  What does she do?"  I didn't know what I was expecting, but nothing good.

"Captain, I cook meals, including ethnic foods from all the Morganite ethnicities.  I act as a counselor to the crew members, to give them someone outside their chain of command that they can confide in.  I provide religious services if members of the crew require it.  I serve as an intermediary between crew members from differing sects, to smooth the way for crew members with very different beliefs to work together.  In a pinch, if we find ourselves attacked, I join the damage control team, if need be, or I can help repel boarders."  answered Mother Ahmisa, ignoring that I had asked the question of Commander Barona. 

I found myself a little taken aback.  I never knew there were more than one kind of Morganite.  Outside of Morganite space, little is really known of what happens inside Morgan space.  Apparently, it's more than anyone imagined.

"Very well Mother Ahmisa, welcome aboard."  I was getting more than a little over-loaded.  How was I going to deal with this many people?  Where was I going to put them all?  Other than the rare passenger or two, then the two Monks, Pete and I were usually the only two people aboard the Haul-o-caster.  Now we were going to have, what, a dozen people?

"Captain, if you don't mind, Mother Ahmisa and I will go aboard and start getting everyone settled into their births.  I haven't heard anything official, but back channels are sounding like the Admiral will be wanting to leave in a day or so."  said Cmdr. Barona.

"That would be fine."  I sighed.  I didn't know how to interface with these people.  "If there nothing further you need from me, I'll finish sweeping up in Cargo Bay 3."

"Chief Williamson, the Captain would like Cargo Bay 3 swept out."  Cmdr. Barona said in that way she had.

"PO Smart?"  the Chief said.

"On it Chief." came the reply from PO Smart, who was already moving.

"Commander Barona, Cargo Bay 3 will be ship shape in short order!"  Cheif Williamson told Cmdr. Barona.

I just stood there, agog.  Mother Ahmisa quietly slid up beside me. "I see you aren't used to all this Captain.  Don't worry, they are just trying to make a good first impression.  I personally know a number of these crew members, and know quite a bit about most of the others, they are all exemplary.  The one I don't know about is Lieutenant Tine."

"Don't worry about Tine.  You may know Morganites, but I know a thing or two about the rougher side of life.  Tine isn't going to be a problem."  I'd been nearly everywhere with Pete, and my gut feeling about Lt. Tine was that he was solid.

"Yes Captain, it is as you say."  Mother Ahmisa replied.  Then Barona, Ahmisa, and the rest of the crew picked up their bags and boarded the Haul-o-caster.  As I watched them board, I realized that life as I knew it was at an end.

It didn't take long for trouble to start.  I had... well, I guess you could only say hidden, in Pete's office.  Or perhaps I should say my office, since it was now mine.  When Al busted in.

"What's the meaning of this?  That Shrew says she's taking my quarters, and she had the damn gall to have that giant assault me!  They're trying to say that I have to sleep in the crew bay from now on!"

"Well, Al.  You were in the VIP quarters, but now I have need of them.  Since you aren't a paying passenger, and you don't really do anything around here, you should be happy you aren't being put in a cargo bay."  I had enough of him already.

"Oh yea?  What about Grace then?  Why is she still in VIP.  She's useless.  Give me her quarters!"

Just then, I heard Cargo Bay 2, then Cargo Bay 3, start to open so I held up a hand for quiet and listened.  Or tried to anyway.  Al was still complaining, and when he realized, I wasn't listening to him, he just complained louder.

"Do I have to get Dorn in here to stick a sock in your gob?  Someone is loading cargo onto my ship, without my permission!"

"See? SEE?  That's what you get.  I bet you don't even make it out of the docking bay before they replace you like they replaced me as XO!"

"You were never XO Al.  Get out of my office and either make yourself useful or go sit in your quarters somewhere out of the way!"  and I attempted to push him out of my office.  That was when Ensign Shelly, and Mother Ahmisa arrived carrying boxes full of my things from my quarters.  Well, my old quarters anyway.

"Captain,"  Ahmisa explained, "I hope you don't mind; I've taken the liberty to help you move into your new quarters. I know this is probably hard on you, but we need your old quarters for crew members."  She looked at Al, and he looked back with the usual smug disdain that he used for... well... everyone, then she looked at me and smiled.  Al wasn't exactly a large man, but he was still easily twice my size.  Then she turned  "Ensign Shelly, would you remind this man where he belongs, and impress it upon him that he is to stay there?"

"Yes Mother." and with a turn towards me, "By your leave Captain."  Shelly set the things she was carrying down and all-but picked Al up by his collar and walked him out of my office and down towards the crew quarters.  I decided that I had to forgive her for being so beautiful and admit that in spite of it, I really liked her. 

Mother Ahmisa smiled at me.  "I hope you don't mind Captain, but I get the worst feelings from that man."

"Me too." I replied.

And, business as usual, Mother Ahmisa continued with her mission "Captain, I saw that your things hadn't been moved into these quarters yet.  It's important for morale for the crew to see you as the Capitan.  Which means they need to see you living in and accepting the Capitan's quarters of the ship.  I don't mean to be pushy, but this is important."  Then she smiled a motherly smile.  I was still overwhelmed by all this, and I was still a bit confused by what Mother Ahmisa's roll was to be on my ship, but I couldn't argue her logic.  I knew she was right.

"I understand.  We can move me in here.  That's fine.  I'm sure Pete would be wondering why I hadn't done that yet."  I told her as I looked towards the door.

"Is something else bothering you Captain?"  Ahmisa asked.  Boy is she observant.

"Just... I can hear cargo being loaded, and I didn't know about it, wasn't informed, and I'm not there to supervise."

"Yes, Captain.  Just like sweeping the cargo bay isn't your job anymore, neither is cargo handling.  You have a meeting with the XO scheduled for dinner time this evening where she will bring you up to speed on what's going on.  I was hoping to talk to you about that.  Some Captains have taken to inviting a different crew member each evening.  It's a good way for you to get acquainted with the crew, and stay connected to them.  Especially on long voyages.  Not all ship Captains have adopted the practice, but I was hoping that you would.  I, of course, will be cooking the meal.  Do you have any food allergies I should know about?  Usually I would be able to look into your file for such things, but your file with the fleet is rather confusing to say the least, full of Dr. Farn's notes on your recovery years ago, but little other information.  And I'm afraid I can't get into the ship's files yet."

"I don't know about ship's files.  I'll have to think about that."

"And the crew member at dinner?  I spoke to Commander Barona, and she likes the idea."

"Yes, I like the idea also.  I wonder how to schedule that."

"Captain, that is my job.  Don't worry about anything, I'll handle it."

Sure enough, that evening, the comm in my quarters beeped and I was informed that the dinner was ready at my convenience.  When I walked into the galley, Cmdr. Barona was not there.  I was confused for a moment, but Ensign Shelly pointed me towards the "Captain's dining room". 

Holy Quazar!  There is this room on the Haul-o-caster that has a doorway directly from the Captain's quarters on one side, and to the galley on the other.  Pete always used it to store ration bars and various other things, so I always thought that was what it was for.  Now, all that had been cleared out and a table, complete with a table cloth, decorative center piece, and beautiful place settings complete with tasteful silver filigree with "Haul-o-caster" in silver around the rim on top, and a date around the rim on bottom.  I recognized it as the date that Hauley's maintenance logs started, so probably the date the ship was commissioned.  It was the fanciest table I had ever seen.  Frankly, I was intimidated.

Sitting at the table was Cmdr. Barona, and Petty Officer Smart.  Both in what had to be their dress uniforms.  I looked down and almost cried.  I was still wearing the ratty old stained ship suit that I had been wearing while sweeping Cargo Bay 3 that morning.

"Oh!" Commander Barona exclaimed when she saw me. "How rude of me Captain!  I didn't even think to wonder if you had uniforms.  Since you aren't officially part of the Fleet, you wouldn't.  Oh, I'm so sorry."

PO Smart looked terrified as if he was going to be executed or something.

I couldn't help myself.  The stress of the last few days finally got to me.  The look of horror on Barona's face.  The look of terror on Smart's face.  And I couldn't help myself.  I started laughing.  And laughing.  At one point, I think I actually couldn't stand anymore and sat right down on the deck, laughing, holding my side because it started to hurt.

Finally, I managed to get something out that probably sounded like "Gasp... pant... ha ha ha ha... Gasp... HAHAHAHAHA... GASP!!!"  Tears rolling down my face.  After a few minutes, I managed to just start getting it under control.  Then I made the mistake of looking at the two of them again, and the whole thing started all over.

Luckily for me.  About that time Mother Ahmisa arrived with a cart that held dinner and saw what was going on.  She started laughing with me, and must have motioned for the others to start laughing also, because I heard the beginnings of a forced laugh from Cmdr. Barona, along with a tiny little laugh from a, probably still terrified, Smart.  But nobody can resist laughter and soon we were all laughing at least at some level.

I wish I could say I did all that on purpose, but no.  The ridiculousness of the whole thing just got to me and I couldn't help it.  Once I was able to control myself, and drag myself back to my feet, I begged Cmdr. Barona, PO Smart, and Mother Ahmisa's pardon and told them I would be right back.  Then I ducked back into Pete's... I mean... My quarters and after a short search found my very best ship suit.  Looking in the mirror, I realized that there wasn't much to recommend it other than the fact it was clean and... mostly... unstained.  Ship suits were practically all I had to wear. 

When I returned to dinner, I apologized for not having anything better, and asked Cmdr. Barona if she thought we would be able to help remedy that problem, as soon as it was convenient.

"Of course" she replied.

Since the ice was well and thoroughly broken, I sat down in my place and marveled at the spread.  I had never seen such food.  I usually just grabbed a ration bar whenever I got hungry, and ate it while continuing whatever I had been doing.  When I said as much, Cmdr. Barona cautioned me to take it easy with the "real food" for a while until my stomach got used to it.  Advice that I found was as sound as it was impossible to follow.

The food was amazing.  I couldn't identify most of what was there, so I asked PO Smart to fill me in on.  It worked wonders to get him to relax and open up.  Soon we were chatting like three old friends.  Apparently, at Captain's dinners, rank structure was traditionally... well... not forgotten, but eased.  I loved it, because it gave me a chance to actually talk to PO Smart and hear his opinions and ideas rather than just "Yes Ma'am" and "No Ma'am". I also learned that I really liked potatoes.  I wondered what they are made of but was too embarrassed to ask.

Over desert, which I could only take a couple bites of because I found it incredibly sweet.  Cmdr. Barona started talking about the preparations that we were making for departure.  Stocking the cargo holds with food stuffs, adding an extra water tank in case we were out longer than predicted along with a whole list of other things.  These Morganites didn't sit on their hands, they got to work fast.  We still didn't have a hard date yet, but "back channels", Cmdr. Barona assured me, said we would know any day now.

Once I was up to speed with Cmdr. Barona, which was handled with amazing efficiency, the Cmdr. asked PO Smart if there was anything that Engineering was doing that might interest the Capitan.  After a halting report, mostly consisting of all the things that he and Chief Williamson checked only to find was already taken care of (I had to smile at that).  PO Smart asked if I wouldn't mind some questions.

"Sure" I replied.

After that came a flood of very technical questions about the engines and the tweaks and modifications that had been made over the years.  When I started working on Hauley's engines before, I basically had to reverse engineer the changes.  Nobody had kept any kind of notes.  I hadn't either for that matter, but I had all that info up there in my head.  I could tell that PO Smart was amazed at my being able to tell him not only vague descriptions, but details on everything.  He tried to copy it all down.  Poor guy, I can talk pretty fast when I get all spun up talking about Hauley.  Of course, I had an advantage, I had it all stored in the memory banks of my cyber device.  Which got me to thinking.  Could I copy some of that information and transfer it to engineering?  I would have to ask Dr. Farn.  If anyone would know, it would be him. 

I was impressed by the questions that PO Smart asked.  The guy really knows his engines, and seems to have a passion for his work, and put me a little more at ease with having other people work on my ship.

The dinner finally ended with me promising PO Smart that I would work on getting some tech specifications to him.  I decided that if Dr. Farn wasn't able to provide me with a means to copy the information out of my head, I would sit at a console and create the documentation by hand.  Hauley, and our engineering staff deserved at least that.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Miami Pete 18:

The visit with Admiral Thomas was cut short when one of his Stormtroopers stepped forward. "Sir, we are receiving the message that a large number of 'rus ships are coming out of transit.  Everyone is being recalled to battle stations."

"Very well," the Admiral replied, "We'll have to cut our visit short."  Then to me, "Captain Petra. We have to request that you move your ship out of the line of fire, I'll have a flight path and coordinates sent to you as soon as I'm back aboard the Vanguard.  There may be more instructions if this gets nasty, I would ask you to please follow them."

I agreed.  I didn't really have much of a choice in the matter, it wasn't like I could have escaped the Morgainite fleet if I wanted to, and I was still hoping for a few more answers if I could get them out of Admiral Thomas once the current problem was taken care of.  And who was I kidding, if the 'rus were going around destroying any ship or station they came across, there wasn't going to be any place that was safe except for, maybe, here in Morganite space.  I was happy to be allowed to hide here till it was all over if they would let me.

I soon received instructions to dock at a small repair facility well beyond the Morganite fleet.  The Morgainite fleet was impressive to say the least, and appeared incredibly disciplined as the ships shook down into a line of battle.  The 'rus ships that had translated in were out-numbered by a wide margin, and had apparently chosen to stop and form up into a line of their own instead of attacking.  Smart that I guess, but I was still a little confused as to why the Morganites didn't just start shooting.  The Morgainites, as a people, aren't know for their patience, and the Morganite fleet is reputed to personify and amplify that national identity.

To my surprise, when I contacted the repair facility I was given the choice of docking at an airlock, or putting down in one of their repair bays.  Al immediately stuck his nose in and demanded I request an airlock.

"It's more secure" he whined, "With an airlock, they only have one direction to come at us from, and we can tear away if we need to!"

Needless to say, I wasn't exactly inclined to listen to anything Al said.  Still, he had a point, or would have had a point if we hadn't have had to "tear away" from Otford, doing damage to our break-away collar.  I wasn't sure if we could dock with an airlock.  Not normally anyway.  Besides, on top of needing to inspect and repair the docking interface, I still needed to check on Hauley's superstructure after our panicked escape.  Hauley also still had a few red lights on the board that I needed to clear.  A bay probably wouldn't be required for clearing the lights, they were pretty minor, but any time you are doing repairs, using an enclosed repair bay or landing on a planet with a reasonable atmosphere was always preferable to the blankness of space.

I requested a bay.

A few minutes later, a familiar voice came across the comm. "Haul-o-caster, you are cleared for bay 2, you should be receiving a flight plan now.  Please do not deviate."  It was the voice I had been missing ever since we translated in.  The voice I had always looked forward to hearing every time we translated into Morgain's.  Once again, I wished to meet that nice sounding woman who was the voice of Morganite comms.  "And welcome back to Morgain's.  Hope your stay is pleasant."

"Thank you Morgain Control.  It's nice to hear you again."  I didn't know why I said that, or why I said it that way. "Haul-o-caster out."

Landing in the repair bay went simple and smoothly.  We received an agreement to sign and return that granted us use of the bay indefinitely, under the authority of Morgainite Fleet task force Bravo, attention Admiral Thomas.  That was something that I very much wasn't expecting, and to tell the truth was a little worried about.  Free rides rarely are, and the indefinite part worried me even more.  Just how long was the Admiral expecting me to need to stay?

Along with the agreement, we received a list of rules.  Don't leave the repair bay.  Don't socialize with Morganite citizens.  If at any time you are asked to smuggle Morganite citizens or materials in or out of Morganite space, contact Morganite fleet immediately or face punishment as a collaborator.

Included was a long list of items that it was illegal to import into Morgainite space, and a long list of items that it was illegal to export from Morganite space.  All complete with penalty codes that told you the fines, prison terms, or execution methods to expect if caught.  Some of the things on the list surprised me.  Importing alcohol or any of the various, dangerous, drugs would garner various fines, anything from a few credits for a bottle of whiskey, to a few thousand credits for some of the harder drugs.  Attempting to import Non-Morganite religious texts, on the other hand, was punishable by instant flaming hot DEATH!

Another surprise was a note at the bottom that there was a bounty for anything pertaining to the 'rus cult, IF you declared it upon arrival and turned it over to the fleet immediately.  The note didn't say how much the bounty was, but it made it sound like it was a lot.

I did a good, solid search of everything the 'rus priests left behind.  Hey, don't judge, money is money and those bastards had taken too much from me already.  They could at least pay a little back.  Sadly, other than spare robes, there wasn't much of anything there.  I sent a coded message to Admiral Thomas listing what I had anyway.  Just in case.  If the Morganites didn't want any of this stuff, I was intent on dumping it all into the recycler.  When tidying up the mess I had made searching, I noticed a lapel pin on one of the robes.  I hadn't noticed it before because Other Monk always was a bit of a pig and left his clothes elsewhere.  I thought of just tossing it in the recycler and having done, but a piece of me decided to be more thorough, so I sent an addenda to Admiral Thomas.

To my surprise, I got an almost immediate response asking for images of the pin.  When I sent the requested images, another quick response demanded that I secure the pin in a safe place and await for Admiral Thomas to arrive.  He would be there shortly.

Admiral Thomas arrived a lot faster than I expected, with his requisite twin Stormtroopers in tow.  When I pulled the lapel pin out of my pocket to hand it to him, he looked like I was trying to hand him a deadly poisonous insect.

"You just kept it in your pocket?"  He asked.

"Sure, what did you expect me to do with it? Lock it in the hold or something?"  I replied.  Poor guy looked a little stressed about it, so I found him a box to put his "treasure" in.

"What's this thing anyway?"

"It's probably nothing, but being the only solid thing on your list, I thought I would check it out.  I probably just spent too much time in the spy game, but I've seen things like this used to house hidden data storage and just wanted to take a look." That was an awful lot of information for a government military type.  I wondered if I should be worried.  But the Admiral just thanked me and went on his marry way.

I made short work out of the repairs.  Flipping a few relays here and there got the board back to all green lights.  Have I ever told you how much I enjoy seeing the board with all green lights?  It's down right wondrous.  I started making plans to monitor those recalcitrant relays in case they were getting weak.  Perhaps replacing a few relatively inexpensive parts a little sooner than the manual suggested might keep Hauley in better shape.  After all, Hauley is far from a standard ship.  Maybe it's just a little harder on those particular parts.

The break-away docking collar was a lot more difficult, or would have been.  I was all set to just remove what was left of the old break away and accept that I would have to dock using the actual docking interface without a break-away, when the big cargo hatch in the bay that leads to the rest of the station opened and in came four Morganites.  One man, one woman, and two cyborgs (both male), all wearing engineering overhauls.  With them they guided an anti-grav sled that held what appeared to be a new break-away for the docking interface.

"We're here to help with your repairs Captain Petra." said the female engineer, "I am Engineer Pushka, and this is Engineer Gratt.  You will have to excuse us, we mean no disrespect, but the two cybers no longer have names, just designations.  If it makes you uncomfortable, we can send them away, or give them temporary names for while we are here."

Before I could think, I asked "Why would I be uncomfortable?"

Engineer Pushka looked a little flustered and looked around obviously trying to think of an answer.  Finally her hands indicated something on her head... and when she didn't think that helped finally said "These two are full cyborgs Captain. They make some people uncomfortable because of their lack of emotions or humanity... and you are... well..."  Again with her hands up indicating her head.

"OH!  THAT!"  I said.  "No, it's fine.  I've been around full Cyborgs before.  They don't bother me."

Engineer Pushka looked relieved.

Once the docking interface was all installed and the mess cleaned up, Hauley was starting to look back to its old self.  A thorough inspection of the hull showed no signs of stress from our quick escape.  Everything looked ship-shape, and the Morganite engineer team left with a smile and a wave.  Engineer Gratt spoke about as much as the Cyborgs, meaning never.  I asked Puska if he was OK, and she just said that he was from a Morganite Sect that frowned upon unmarried men talking to unmarried women that they weren't courting, and he didn't mean any disrespect.  Morganites have Sects?  Who knew?

"You better have a look over their work and a look over the hull for trackers or listening devices." Came Al's voice from behind me.  "I didn't like the looks of those so-called engineers.  I bet they are part of the security branch."

I glowered at him to show my contempt for him and his paranoid ideas.  Then did the search as soon as he left.  I didn't feel good about it, and I would never tell Al that he was right to worry, but the unavoidable truth is that he was right.  We didn't know these people and it would be dumb to trust them so completely.  I was relieved when the search didn't turn up anything.

Over the next week, we received sporadic updates "from the front", all basically saying that the 'rus hadn't moved yet, and Morganite task force Bravo was keeping an eye on them for the time being.  The one time I did get to talk to the Admiral, he explained.  "Morganite law states that we do not fire upon 'rus ships unless we are fired upon first, or they get within a certain distance of Morgan Prime.  With them just sitting there, we don't have legal cause to fire on them.  You know how we Morganites are with our laws.  Everything's got to be just right."

Oh well, and I was hoping for some payback for Otford Station.  Not that I had any friends there, I never had any friends except Pete, and he was gone.

So I did what I always did when I was upset or sad.  You guessed it, Maintenance!  Before long, Hauley was sparkling like new.  Well... If they made new ships with so many miss-matched colors and stuff, but you get the idea.  I overhauled everything that could be overhauled, then went and figured out how to overhaul things that didn't usually ever get overhauled because they almost never broke.  When I asked for a price list for supplies, the Morganites offered to get me whatever I needed, and not to worry about cost because Morganite Fleet Ops was picking up the tab.  So I re-fitted the ship with everything a ship of Hauley's size and class was supposed to have but we never did because we could never afford it.  I even replaced a few mattresses that were going flat and needed replacing.  Just as I ran out of anything else to do, and was considering repainting the outer hull, I finally got a call back from the Admiral.

"Captain Petra, our security services division finally cracked the encryption on that lapel pin you gave me.  I think you'll be interested in what we found."

"Oh?  So it was a data storage devise?"  I was truly surprised.  Well, that and relieved because my initial panic when the comms chimed, and I saw the incoming signal was from the Admiral was that he was calling to bawl me out for wasting so much money refitting the Haul-o-caster.

"May I come over and share the results with you?"

"Sure."

The Admiral arrived within the hour, Stormtroopers in tow.  "Captain Petra, the Monks you told me about weren't the Priests of 'rus that they claimed to be."  Big surprise that one.  "In fact, they were from a splinter group that was all about starting a war between the 'rus and humanity.  It's been tried before, but short of building up a fleet and hunting the 'rus down one at a time, attempts to start a war has always failed.  It's like they don't care.  It's rare to see more than one or two at a time, and often as not, when you do see two and attack one of them, the other one either runs away or acts like nothing happened.  Not to mention they are exceedingly tough, so even if the second 'rus ship ignores you, attacking one of them isn't likely to get you anywhere."

"So, I have a job for you." Admiral Thomas added.

"A job for me?"

"Yes.  You said that Pete and the Monks took you and the Haul-o-caster to what you were convinced was 'rus Prime.  I would like you to guide a task force back to that planet.  They'll land a team to research the 'rus base you found, and if you don't mind, retrieve Pete's body so we can give him a proper burial.  You won't have to land on the planet if you don't want, I know going back to that place would be hard.  Just point the task force towards the right place, and they'll take care of the rest."

"Sure, it's the least I could do after all the help getting the Haul-o-caster back up to snuff.  I hope I didn't over-do it on supplies though."  I cringed, expecting the worst.

The Admiral just laughed.  "Are you kidding me?  That was cheap compared to what some of our officers' demand.  Just the reward for the pin more than covers it.  In fact, we're going to have to negotiate a contract for payment of that, and the payment for services for guiding the task force.  I'll have my people do some calculations and send over the paperwork.  Working for the Morganites pays well.

"On another subject" the Admiral continued, "There are some crew level regulations that we need to figure out.  Even if you put those two sort-of passengers of yours on your crew manifest, and I don't suggest it I wouldn't trust those two, you need a few more crew members to make up a minimum crew levels by Morganite law.  We always let Pete slip by because he didn't spend much time in Morganite space, he never went to Morgan Prime and he never took part in a task force.  But you will be part of a task force so we can't look the other way on this one.  I have a few ideas, if you'll trust me, I know some people that are rated for outside work that I think you'll like that we can lend to you."

"Outside work?"  I asked.

"Yes, an Outside Work rating in the Morganite Fleet means they have training and credentials to work on non-fleet vessels, with non-Morganite crews. A lot of non-Morganites think it's because we try to control our people in order to keep them here in Morgan space.  The reality is, we have to pay bonuses to get people to apply for the rating.  Most Morganite Fleet officers don't want to do Outside work, and we don't keep anyone here against their will.  If a Morganite wants to leave, they are free to come and go as they please.  Most Morganites don't want to ever leave Morgan Space.  They have everything they want or need here."

"What about that paperwork I got about not smuggling Morganites out of Morgan Space?"  I asked.  I probably shouldn't have, it was rude, but I was curious.

The Admiral laughed "If a spy wanted to ex-filtrate, do you think he would tell you he's a spy and could you please help him escape?  No, he would pose as a Morgaite who wants to get out.  Most Outsiders don't even question that.  You would be surprised how many spies we catch that way.  On the rare occasion that we catch an actual Morganite trying to leave that way, we give them what they need to survive Outside and wish them well."

"Really?" I asked.

"Have you ever met a destitute Morganite outside of Morgan space?" he replied.

"Come to think of it, I haven't.  But I've met a few Captains who were Morganite expats."

"Most likely, some of those were expats, and some of those were Morganite operatives.  We like keeping track of what is happening out there, and it works as a safety valve.  When we identify a Morganite that doesn't fit in, or is unhappy here, we often offer them training and a job, outfit them with a ship, and let them go.  They drop in from time to time to file a report and pick up their pay, and maybe a cargo of exports if they want, and off they go.  If they ever want to come back and retire, they are allowed.  In fact, that is what this facility is for, to provide services to the Morganite ship Captains who work Outside.  A few of the upper echelon wanted to charge you for services, but a quick study showed it would cost us more to lay in the groundwork in order to charge you, than it cost just giving you the stuff.  I've also put some things in motion to offer you a permanent job as an Outside Captain, just like the Morganite Captains.  You and Pete sure have earned it with all the jobs you've done for us over the years."

"I wasn't aware.  Pete never told me.  I knew we ran some cargo for Morganites from time to time, but other than that what have we done?"  I asked.

"When you were doing the cargo runs, Pete also stopped in and sold information.  Lots of information.  And because you and Pete went places with the Haul-o-caster that the usual Morganite Outside Captains wouldn't or couldn't go, a lot of that information was unique and valuable to us.  It's how we knew that something was stirring up with the 'rus and knew to station a fleet task force here.  Usually we have three cruisers stationed here.  Those 'rus ships would have eaten three cruisers for breakfast."