Miami Pete 28

 In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:

The Tricycle of Thought: Miami Pete:

Thanks for reading!

The transition seemed to be going fine as far as I could see, but Cmdr. Barona was furious.

"He isn't leaving a rear guard.  He's taking all of his combat ships through first, leaving the non-combat ships completely unprotected.  He's leaving Bait and Tackle at the very back of the formation with it's ass hanging out.  He took his own ship through first, no scout, not even a frigate, when the Polly Bont is right here and ready to go..."

I cut her off.  "Lt. Commander Dorn.  Set alert to condition one."

"Yes Captain!"  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn got on shipwide.  "Battle stations, battle stations, this is not a drill.  The ship is now at condition one.  Battle Stations!"

"Did you see something Captain?  What's going on?"  Cmdr. Barona asked.

"Polly Bont going to condition one."  Shelly informed the bridge.

"Nope, just got a feeling.  This smells rotten fishy, and the best time to handle rotten fishy is before it stinks up your whole house."  I said.  I was probably being too paranoid, but it's better to be alive and too paranoid than dead and not paranoid enough. 

"Polly Bont on comm Captain.  They want to know what's happening."  Shelly said.

"Tell them what I said."

"Polly Bont agrees, suggests we take up rear guard position on Fleet Train."

I wasn't sure what that was exactly, but I'm sure my crew did.

"Do it."

With that, the Polly Bont which is only minimally armed, relying on armor and speed rather than firepower, and the Haul-o-caster which might as well be unarmed for all the good our civilian grade weapons would do, took up rear guard positions for Fleet Train.

I watched the last of the combat ships transition away.  "Keep your eyes peeled everyone, if anything is going to happen, it'll be now."

BAM!

I hate being right when I'm being all paranoid.

I didn't know how, but a dozen 'rus ships fell on the rear of Fleet Train.  Thankfully they weren't any of the really big ones.  Just smaller ones, but those are bad enough.  Captain Gunn pushed the Polly Bont right out front and opened fire, making herself the primary target.

"Fleet Train, this is Polly Bont Actual declaring a state of emergency.  I am hereby assuming command.  All non-combat ships are to transition retreat protocol.  Q-ship to join the rear guard.  Haul-o-caster fall back behind Q-ship and provide whatever help you are able to.  If it gets to hot for you, do not hesitate to run for the hills."

"Big Truck destroyed.  Bait and Tackle lost engines."  Shelly kept up a steady, calm, report on the fight.  

"Lt. Commander Dorn, if you aren't already doing so.  Start firing whatever we got.  User your best judgement!"

The Haul-o-castor shook.  We were hit pretty hard.  Lights flashing, and the harsh smell of and electronic fire filled the bridge.  I tried to get up but Cmdr. Barona pushed me back down in to my Captain's chair.  "Your place is here Captain, they need you.  My place is handling damage control."

I sat, feeling woefully useless.

As I watched, one of the freighters pushed forward... forward?..  into the position of rear guard and split in half.  Not like it was hit and blowing up.  The other direction.  Port and Starboard opened away from each other as if there was a giant hinge along the bottom of the ship.  It looked like the ship was transforming itself into a rather large weapons platform.

"Get us behind that thing!  Cover it's flank as best as we can!"  I shouted.  We moved.

I watched as the Polly Bont was pummeled with fire, sometimes so much so that she was lost in the flash of 'rus weapons hits.  Each time I expected only a debris field when when the fire abated, only to see the Polly Bont emerge again and again.  Damaged, yes, but still in one piece, and still in the fight.

Soon, Fleet Train was mostly through the transition point, but Bait and Tackle slowly drifted in space.

"Captain, orders from Polly Bont are to make a fighting withdrawal to the Bait and Tackle and provide cover while they get enough repairs done to escape through the transition point and escape.  We are to go with her when she does.

It didn't happen though.  Sure, we fell back to the Bait and Tackle, as did both the Q-ship and the Polly Bont, as ordered.  The fight there was intense.  With the Polly Bont playing punching bag and the Q-ship, I later found out it's name was John Q. Public which I still find hilarious, providing heavy fire, we ended up destroying eight of the twelve 'rus ships, with all of them receiving at least some damage.  The 'rus finally gave up.  

When I said "we" destroyed eight, I mean the John Q. Public destroyed most of them.  The Polly Bont spent the fight being too busy getting it's ass kicked to do much, but she did manage to take one as it swung by, trying to get an angle on the Bait and Tackle.  Haul-o-caster managed to land the final blow on two, but who am I kidding, without the John Q. Public softening them up, we wouldn't have stood a chance.  

The three of us stayed, frantically doing damage control as the Bait and Tackle struggled to repair itself enough to get moving.  That would have struck me as funny, if it weren't so serious.  The Bait and Tackle is the fleet tender.  It's supposed to be repairing other ships, not itself.  All we could do was provide cover and wait.

"Captain, something is inbound through the jump point."  Shelly announced.

"Well, I would say battle stations, but look, Lt. Commander Dorn is so efficient, we are already there."  I said.  Yes, it was cheesy but I couldn't help myself.  We were still at condition one from when the 'rus attacked.

We waited, practically holding our breath, wondering what would appear.  

It turned out to be a frigate.  The Happy Warrior.  I recognized it from the Vanguard fleet because it's crew had painted it a gold color with black stripes.  Within a few seconds, it was gone again.  Transitioning back out.  Poor guys.

"That'll be Vanguard's make-shift scout."  I said.

We watched as the Vanguard fleet transitioned back from the 'rus homeworld system.  The ships looked rough, like they had quite a fight.  Some of them were barely limping along.  As they came through, the ships arrayed themselves in a defensive formation designed to both protect the fleet from an outside attack, and from an attack coming through the jump point. 

I caught sight of a couple of the non-combat ships from the fleet train, as they passed by, but not many.  The ones that did come through were just as damaged as the combat ships.

"What happened over there?"  Shelly asked.

"We'll know when we know." admonished Cmdr. Barona without heat.  "Everyone, stay at your stations, we are still on condition one." She reminded everyone.

Finally, the Baskins and one of the Heavy Cruisers limped through and immediately turned to face the jump point.  No other ships came through.  We were still missing a Heavy Cruiser and one of the Carriers, as well as most of the frigates and I guessed about half of the destroyers.  

"Captain, I have a friend who is a comms specialist on the fuel tanker." Shelly reported, "She says that when they exited transit, they were met with a mine field that destroyed most of the non-combat ships.  Her...."

"Belay that talk!"  Ordered Cmdr. Barona.  "Sorry Shelly, we can't have that distraction right now.  Please gather what information as you can, categorize it by how reliable you think it is, and forward it to me and the Captain.  Ladies and gentlemen, all you must concern yourselves with right now is that we are in combat.  The Captain will do her best to lead us through to victory, or an honorable death."

"Shelly, see if you can get me a line to Admiral Thomas."  I asked.

A few moments later, the Admiral - looking a dozen years older than the last time I saw him - popped up on my screen.

"Haul-o-caster actual, this is Vanguard Actual.  I have only a moment.  Please stay with the Bait and Tackle, her Captain says she'll be back on line within the hour, and he says that after seeing you place the Haul-o-caster in the rear guard position and then didn't back down when the 'rus came, he trusts you.  I'm designating you, the John Q. and the Polly Bont to be Repair Team 1, with Polly Bont Actual as the commander.  The Polly Bont will bring you up to speed.  Any problems with any of that?"

"No Admiral.  Wherever you need me."

"Very well, Vanguard Actual out!"  With that my screen went blank and the Admiral was gone.

"Polly Bont Actual on comm for you Captain."  Reported Shelly.

"I'll take it here."

"Haul-o-caster, I'm sending over some move orders.  You, me, and the John Q are going to provide cover for the Bait and Tackle as soon as she can move.  Fleet will be sending ships over one by one to either be patched up enough to keep up with the fleet, or scrapped.   Your job will be to watch one flank, while I watch the other, and the John Q. can watch the front door.  Any questions?"

"No questions, I'll await the move orders."

"We have move orders from the Polly Bont Captain."  Shelly announced.

"Well, there they are.  Is there anything else you can tell me?"  I ask.

"Nothing right now.  You know as much as I do.  Polly Bont out."

As the Bait and Tackle came online, we moved off to one side and set up as secure an area as a Q-ship, a scout, and a Hauley possibly could, and soon started servicing customers.  The Admiral, apparently, was keeping the Vanguard Fleet well away from us, and sending over one ship at a time.  As the ships were repaired, they became part of Repair Fleet 1, either adding to our defense of the Bait and Tackle, or in the case of non-combat ships and ships too damaged for combat but still able to move, they were positioned to take advantage of the protection without getting in the way.

When we had around a third of the ships on "our side", we all watched as the Baskins opened fire on a frigate and summarily blew it to debris.

"I was watching Captain, that frigate powered up and was going to ram the Baskins."  Said Lt. Tine.  "It was one of the group that went through first with Captain Dorros when he lead Fleet Train through the jump point.  There is a freighter over there that was also part of that group."

"Which one Lt. Tine?"  I rushed over to see which ship Lt. Tine was talking about so I could relay the information to the Admiral.

BOOM!

"It was that one Captain."  Said Lt. Tine,  "I should have made the connection sooner."

"Any others?"

"No Captain, there are only a few ships from Fleet Train left, and none of the remaining ones were part of the lead group."  Lt. Tine finished.  "We should be careful though Captain, that explosion wasn't an accident."

"How so Lt. Tine?"

"Even a core breach would have been smaller than that.  That freighter was assigned to carry food, water, and medical supplies.  Nothing aboard her should have been able to cause an explosion that big.

"Captain, orders from the Fleet.  The Polly Bont is ordered to join the Baskins, we have been asked to take orders from Captain Tarkin of the Lightning."  Shelly said.

"The Lightning?  I haven't seen that one yet."  I said.

Lt. Cmdr. Dorn pointed it out on the main viewscreen.  "It's that Corvette up there on the right.  One of the fastest ships in the fleet.  She is usually used for courier duty, but sometimes they are pressed into a scouting and light patrol role."

"Hmm.  She's sleek and sexy."  I said.

"Indeed."  added Lt. Tine.

"I wonder why the Admiral needed the Polly.  You think he's thinking of having her scout the Transition point again?"  I asked, curious.

"I'm sure we'll find out eventually."  replied Lt. Tine.

I finally decided to stand down from condition one a few hours later.  We stayed at an amended condition two by sending half the crew to grab a bite and hit the rack.  No sense in wearing everyone out trying to stay on alert for too long.  Cmdr. Barona tried to quote fleet procedures at me, but I pointed out that Hauley isn't really a fleet ship, so we'll do it my way this time and ordered her to bed.

Mother Ahmisa brought food around to everyone who stayed on duty.

"Don't you need sleep too Captain?"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."  I said, then I saw the shocked look on her face.  "It's just a saying Mother.  I don't mean it literally.  Although, by definition perhaps it is true literally."  I tapped the metal and plastic cap that surrounded my head.  "One of the advantages to this thing is that for some reason I don't need a whole lot of sleep.  I can go a week or two if I have to, but I start getting a little grumpy, so I try not to."

"Oh, thank you for sharing that.  One of my duties is to send the Captain to bed when she's getting too tired to think but won't order herself to bed."  Mother Ahmisa explained.  "It keeps crew members who rely on the Captain for fitness reports and advancement recommendations from having to try to tell a Captain that they are impaired."

"Makes sense I suppose.  No worries here though.  Pete tried to stay awake as long as me once on a really long haul.  It was funny.  He kept falling asleep, and when he woke up he would try again, not realizing that I hadn't slept yet.  Six tries later, I let him in on that, so he quit trying.  I guess at the time, I didn't know about my cyber device, so just thought I was tough."

It felt nice to talk about the good days with Pete.  I remember that haul, even with every shortcut and trick that Pete could devise, the trip took almost eight months, but the payoff was well worth it.  The client couldn't believe we made it that fast saying that it usually takes a year to get those goods delivered.  Pete thought about turning it into a normally scheduled run but that would have tied us to that area, and Pete didn't like to be tied down.

It took the Bait and Tackle a couple weeks to get all the ships that were coming with us up to the point that they could keep up.  Even then, it was slow going.  Thankfully there weren't any more incidents like 'rus attacks or other acts of terrorism.  There were a few Captains who refused to give up their ships when those ships were found to be too damaged to proceed with the fleet.  I can't say that I blame them.  I'm sure I would just tell them to leave me on Hauley, and we would find our own way home.  A ship is more than just a thing.

While the repairs were going on, Admiral Thomas held a number of Captain's meetings.

One of Admiral Thomas' staff made the report. "Fuel isn't a problem yet, but we are down to one tanker, so it could become critical at a moment's notice if we lose that one.  We lost a lot of the fleet train, including a large number of freighters.  Food, water, and medical supplies are all approaching critical.  One of the freighters that made it through was a magazine ship, and it's missiles have been spread around.  There were enough that every ship still able to fire missiles is at least at sixty percent.  Main line ships are fully stocked.  Kinetic weapon projectiles are almost gone.  Normally it would be easily enough supplied, but this part of space is practically empty.  We will need to look for an asteroid field somewhere to resupply."  

"Good enough Wendle."  Admiral Thomas broke in.  "As we see, we are in some dire straights. As quickly as we are burning through missiles and kinetics, we need to resupply sooner rather than later.  Start breaking down the ships we are scrapping and turning those into Kinetic projectiles."

There was a collective gasp from the Captains.  I could relate.  Anyone who tried to chop up Hauley to make projectiles would have to step over my dead body first. and I was starting to think that I don't die so easy.

The admiral held up a hand for quiet.  "Your objections are all noted.  I am having the same reservations, however, our job here is not done.  Fleet has asked us to go to the 'rus homeworld and investigate, and that is what I intend to do.  To that end, we are going to need resupply.  We have two fast ships, the Lightning and the Haul-o-caster.  The Lightning won't carry much.  She's built for speed and range so she does have some cargo capacity, but that's nothing compared to the Haul-o-caster.  She may look small on the outside, but she's made for hauling cargo.  Bait and Tackle do you have some space?  I would like to clear out Haul-o-caster's cargo holds completely to maximize space for supplies."

"Yes sir!" came the reply from Captain Holden of the Bait and Tackle. "I have a secure hold that is empty.  Since she's a civilian vessel, I'm sure Captain Kid would like us to make sure nobody makes off with her cargo."

"Very good." The Admiral Continued, "Captain Kid, would you mind going on a supply run?  There is another jump point, about three weeks from here at fleet speed, but I'm sure you and the Lightning can cut some time off of that.  There is Morganite outpost not far from the other side.  They should have everything we need."

"Yes sir."  I said.  Finally, I get to do something that Hauley is good at, and ever since Lt. Cmdr. Dorn waxed all poetical about corvettes, I have secretly been wondering if the Lightning really could beat Hauley. 

"I believe you are familiar with Captain Tarkin of the Lightning, he'll be in command of the two-ship.  The rest of us will do whatever we can."

Captain Holden spoke up.  "Admiral Thomas, There are a lot of ship parts we need, I'll send you over a list."

"Sorry Captain."  The Admiral replied,  "there is only limited space on the Haul-o-caster, we need every bit of it for beans and bandages.  See what you can strip off the ships that have been designated for scrap."

"Yes sir."  Captain Holden replied.

Miami Pete 27

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:

The Tricycle of Thought: Miami Pete:

Thanks for reading!

The next day, word was finally passed down that it was time to jump to the 'rus homeworld.  It was fun to watch the fleet, who had been arrayed for defense, to shake back down into formation for the jump.

As usual, Polly Bont took it's place out front and at the Admiral's command, jumped.  Or, as the Captain of the Polly Bont would say, Transitioned.

The wait for the Polly Bont to return took much too long.  I checked and rechecked my records.  The jump to the 'rus homeworld wasn't a long or particularly difficult one.  The Polly Bont should have been back already.

Just as I was about to demand a channel to the Admiral, the Polly Bont reappeared.

"Mayday mayday, this is the Polly Bont requesting assistance."  The message ended in a lot of coughing then died in static.  A couple of  Frigates from the fleet were dispatched to render aid, and were soon pulling people off the Polly Bont.  Shelly put the Polly Bont on the main viewscreen and zoomed in.

It was an absolute mess.  I had no idea what was still holding her together.  

"Those Jump Scouts sure can soak up a lot of damage."  Came the comment from Lt. Cmdr. Dorn.  "They are going to need a major refitting, but she'll be fine."

I wonder if Lt. Cmdr. Dorn was looking at the same ship that I was looking at.  Then I took a closer look.  Sure it looked bad with huge chunks of the ship seemingly having been sliced off, but the Polly Bont had some serious armor, and while that armor was in really bad shape, I couldn't see very many places where an attack had successfully gotten through.

The Admiral called a Captain's meeting as the Polly Bont was towed away form the jump point back to the Fleet Tender ship.  I hoped the nice woman who Captained the Polly Bont escaped without injury.

"The data has been downloaded from the Polly Bont.  Congratulations are in order to Captain Gunn for bringing her ship home safely."  Applause erupted across the comm channel at Admiral Thomas' praise.  "After transitioning through the jump point, the Polly Bont encountered a small fleet of 'rus ships upon exit.  Polly Bont reports that the 'rus didn't hesitate, they attacked immediately.  Thankfully, the Polly Bont made like a turtle and crawled back to the transition point for the return trip."

"Admiral, are we going to let this attack on a Morganite ship go unanswered?"  Asked Captain Detter.  His ship was the Claws of Justice, one of the two heavy cruisers in the fleet, and he appeared to be ready for a fight.

"No Captain.  We are not."  Was the Admiral's simple reply.  "In five hours, we will be splitting the fleet.  The first group, designated The Vanguard will be composed of all the front-line ships, minus a small defensive force.  The rest, designated The Fleet Train will consist of that defensive force and the non-combatant ships.  Plus the Haul-o-caster.  Sorry Captain Kid, I'm not ready to risk your ship just yet."

I had talked to Mother Ahmisa about dropping the name Petra due to the name's origins, and apparently the Morale officers in the Morganite fleet have a back channel, and the transition to using the name Kid, for lack of a better name, went more smoothly than expected.  I did hope that nobody thought I was being foolish, insisting on name changes in the middle of everything else that was going on, frankly I was astonished by how quickly it all happened.  Mother Ahmisa assured me that it shouldn't be a problem.

"That's quite all right Admiral.  The Haul-o-caster has minimal weaponry, we really don't belong in the line of battle.  You all have fun though."  I smiled.  There was a shared laugh around the comm channel.  I wasn't trying to be funny or anything, I just didn't know what to say, and that's what came out of my mouth.  

"Captain Dorros, you will be in command of the Fleet Train until we meet up and re-merge.  I'll be sending you orders after the meeting."  The Admiral continued.  Dorros Captained the Gentle Courage, a destroyer.  While the name Gentle Courage seemed like an odd name for a warship, her Captain sure looked the part.  "Assignments will be handed down.  Dismissed!"

"Oh, one last thing!"  The Admiral called out before anyone had a chance to disconnect.  "The Haul-o-caster crew have been some busy little beavers, and have turned out the design for a new, stronger gravitonic generator.  I'll be sending out an information packet on it after the meeting.  Please feel free to comment on the design.  If it tests out to be anywhere close to as good as the brochure, I'm inclined to approve it for refit when we get some downtime.  Good work Haul-o-caster!"

There was a chorus of congratulations from the comm channel. 

"Now, Dismissed!"

Right on schedule, the Vanguard half - or more like three quarters - of the fleet transitioned through the jump point.  To my surprise, Shelly put an audio comm channel up on the main address speakers.  The chatter though that channel was a chaotic stream of well whishes and farewells, presumably from all across the Fleet Train.  Seeing me looking confused, Shelly explained.  

"It's tradition Captain.  When a Vanguard fleet leaves it's Fleet Train behind to go into battle, a comm channel is open to wish them well.  That way, their crews can receive the love and support from the Fleet Train, without encroaching on the encrypted channel shared by the Vanguard."

I thought it was a nice idea, and was about to ask how to add my wishes of "Happy Hunting" when Shelly and a few others on the bridge broke out in a fit of giggles.  

"Captain, I'm noticing that a lot of the well wishes on the channel consist of various versions of 'You all have fun.'  That isn't one I've heard before, but I love it!"

"It's so much better than "Die With Honor." Who ever thought that one up?"  asked Barnes.

"On this day, we test ourselves against the worst the enemy has to offer.  We are outgunned.  We are outnumbered.  We are hungry and far from home.  But!  If we can hold the line here for three days, it will give our colonial settlements time to evacuate.  It will give Fourth Fleet time to get into position to join the defense of Morgan and our loved ones.  Very few of you who hear my voice will survive this battle, but if we must die for our faith, all I ask is that we DIE WITH HONOR!"  Said Lt. Cmdr. Dorn.  It sounded like he was reciting something memorized.  He continued, "That was Admiral Joseph Arameha, in his final address before his fleet impaled themselves on the Zendig Fleet at the Battle of Defiance, Morgan Calendar 273."

The Morganites all bowed their heads and quietly held there hands over their hearts for a few seconds.  It was a touching salute.  When they were done I asked. 

"Well, were they able to hold?!"  Everyone looked at me funny.  "What?  I don't know Morganite History.  It sounds like quite a story."

Mother Ahmisa rescued me.  "Yes and No Captain.  Their situation was hopeless.  They only held for a single day.  But not a single ship gave up.  Not a single Morganite ship left the line of battle, requiring the Zendig Fleet to destroy every single ship.  When the Vanguard was finally destroyed, the Fleet Train ambushed them.  The Fleet Train was mostly comprised of unarmed freighters, so they rammed themselves into the Zendig warships.  When the battle was finally over, the Zendig Admiral was so intimidated by Morganite resolve, that he turned his fleet around and returned home rather than face us again."

"That's an amazing story."

"The Morganite people are an amazing people."  Mother Ahmisa said.

Days went by with no word from the Vanguard.  Under Captain Dorros' orders, the Fleet Train took up position a ways away from the jump point.   We were out in some of the clearest open space that I had ever seen, so there was nothing to fall back on as a defensive position, so Captain Dorros declared the Fleet Tender, oddly named the Bait and Tackle, to be "home base". 

"Mother Ahmisa, what's with the funny names?" I asked that evening at dinner.  It was finally Mother Ahmisa's turn for Dinner with the Captain.

"Funny names?  How so?"  

"Now that there isn't a cloud of ships out there, I'm starting to notice individual ship names.  We have the Bait and Tackle, the Gentle Courage - although I have to admit I really like that name - I swear I saw a frigate named The Rainbow, and there is even a destroyer called the Sunshine and Happiness.  What gives?"

"Says the Captain of the Haul-o-caster." Mother Ahmisa gave me a smile.  "It has long been a Morganite custom that the first Captain of a new ship gets to name the ship.  During the war years, the war became so intense that whole Morganite crews were being made up by people who were conscripted.  It became popular to protest conscription by giving their ships ridiculous names, which opened the door for new Captains to name ships after things they would miss from home."

"I once saw a ship named Hot Cinnamon Buns, and another named My Wife."  Cmdr. Barona added.

"I knew the Captain of the My Wife.  When she was assigned the ship she wasn't amused, but because of the tradition, Fleet wouldn't let her change the ship name."  Mother Ahmisa said.  "She tried to push back asking for a different assignment, but was warned that the only other command available was a freighter named Spank Me."

"Could you imagine referring to yourself as Spank Me Actual?"  I asked, which caused us all to erupt into a fit of giggles.

And so we waited, and waited.  Finally, just when I was about to comm Captain Dorros and beg for permission to take the Haul-o-caster and scout through the jump point, a very bedraggled and worn destroyer transitioned in.  Dorros dispatched a pair of frigates to escort it back to "home base". 

I wasn't invited to the meeting between Dorros and the Captain of the Solid Line.  Then Dorros called a meeting of the Captains, and I wasn't invited to that either, which was conspicuous because even the freighter Captains were invited to that one.  

"What gives?"  I asked Mother Ahmisa, "I feel like I'm being kept in the dark, and I don't like it at all."

"I'll see what I can find out through back channels."  she promised.

"Captain, Fleet Train is on the move."  came the voice of Lt. Cmdr. Dorn over the intercom.  I ran from my office to the bridge.  Sure enough, the Fleet Train fell into formation and was heading towards the jump point.

"Have we gotten orders to move?  Any communication from Fleet Train?"  I asked.

"Nothing Captain."  Answered Shelly, "And the Comm is operational, we've had personal messages coming in and out all day."  That was normal for a Morganite Fleet when nothing more pressing was going on.  Morganite Fleet personnel were allowed, even encouraged, to have and maintain friendships with other Morganite Fleet personnel.  Shelly, for instance, had a boyfriend on the Bait and Tackle and was open with me during our Captain's dinner that she was torn between loyalty to me, the Haul-o-caster, and her crewmates, and the possibility of a berth on the Bait and Tackle so she could spend time with him.

"Has anyone heard anything about a Fleet movement?"  I asked.  Only silence replied.

"Alert condition two then." I said throwing my hands up.  To his credit, Lt. Cmdr. Dorn only paused a second before setting the Alert.  Within seconds, the crew swarmed to their duty stations.

"Shipwide"  I softly ordered Shelly.

"Shipwide, up." Shelly replied after hitting the button.

"Good morning Haul-o-caster crew."  I said,  "It seems we are being left behind without any orders, or word from Fleet Train.  For the time being, we'll assume this is merely an oversight, but I have set Alert Two, because something smells fishy.  Please be on your toes."

"The Polly Bont on comm for you Captain."  Shelly announced.  I sat in my Captain's chair and looked at my screen.

"At my station if you would please Shelly."

A familiar, pleasant face came up on my screen.  "Captain Kid, I have been ordered not to talk to you, but I'm not inclined to take orders from Fleet Train, while I'm officially still attached to Vanguard, so I wanted to ask for your side of the story."

"Captain..."  I realized that I had never gotten her name and was a little at a loss.

"It's either Polly Bont Actual, or my friends call me Captain Gunn.  So far, after you openly shared your transition data without being asked, and shared information and credit on the Tine Radiation discovery, In my book you qualify."

"Well then Captain Gunn, I don't know what is going on."  I said.  "Ever since Vanguard transitioned, I've been getting the cold shoulder from Captain Dorros.  Even when Dorros moved Fleet Train back to Home Base, it was done on an open channel and I wasn't given any direct orders."

"Really?  Everyone else got direct orders.  Even the Polly Bont, not that there was anyone aboard to receive them.  The Polly was still docked with Bait and Tackle at the time, and my crew - what was left of them anyway - was in the Bait and Tackle med bay.

"We didn't receive word that you had losses.  My deepest sympathy."  I said.  That "my deepest sympathy" line is what Pete always said in this kind of situation.  It seemed appropriate, and I sure had no idea what to say.

"Thank you."  Captain Gunn said,  "Dorros pointed out that you hadn't reached out with offers of prayers.  I wondered how he knew but chalked it up to you not being among the Morganites very long.  I was planning on exchanging some strong word with your Mother for not advising you better when I found a chance.  Why would Dorros be working against you?"

"You think Dorros is doing that?"

"Sure seems to be so."  Captain Gunn started listing the evidence, "Dorros didn't invite you to the Captain's meeting.  Casualty reports are passed to you, so that prayers could be offered.  He should be sending you operational orders with each move, which he doesn't seem to be doing.  Then this extremely odd order not to contact or share operational information with you specifically that was attached to our latest move orders."  Captain Gunn said,  "I think someone doesn't like you."

"What do you think I should do?"

"If I were you, I would follow at a distance."  Captain Gunn replied.  "I'm going to contact the Solid Line and see if I can get any more information.  All we were told at the Captain's meeting was that we were transitioning the Matrix.  When we received our orders, I was placed near the rear of the formation so I contacted Dorros and he said Fleet Train wouldn't be needing a scout and that I should just be quiet and follow orders as given.  Transitioning a fleet, any fleet, without scouting first is major break of protocol.  I almost relieved him of command on the spot, but I decided the Admiral can take care of it when we get there.  No point in stirring up trouble that doesn't need to be stirred."

"You could do that?"  I asked.  

"Of course.  Dorros has only had a ship for somewhere around eight years.  That's long enough that he doesn't panic and look at the Captain hierarchy every time he talks to another Captain.  I have more than twice that.  I Captained Frigate Rosemary for two years before sending her to refit.  After that, I stood-up the Polly Bont fresh out of the shipyard.  That was fifteen years ago.  People tend to forget I've been at this for a while because I have a pleasant face and don't lord my rank over people.  There are a few freighter Captains in Fleet Train who out-rank me on the hierarchy, as does the Captain of the Bait and Tackle, but combat rated Captains always outrank non-combat rated Captains, so even they don't outrank me."

"So it goes by years as a Captain?"

"Yes and no.  The hierarchy is a point system.  Score depends upon years as a Captain, the types of ship Captained, various accommodations and awards, mission successes and failures, and a whole slew of other things.  I'm guessing that Dorros was left behind because he has a relatively low score on the hierarchy for an eight year destroyer Captain.  That fits with what I've seen Admiral Thomas do in the past.  Who would you rather guard your back?  A known discipline problem that has a high score anyway, or a seemingly normal Captain with a lower score than he probably should, but no explanation of why he has that low score?  But, Admiral Thomas had to leave him in command of Fleet Train, because he was the highest combat rated Captain being left behind." 

"Do I have a score?"  I was almost afraid to ask.

Captain Gunn chuckled.  "Yes, you do, but you don't have very much time as a Captain, and it's marked as non-Morganite and non-combat.  So you basically don't outrank anyone.  No offence." 

I returned the smile.  "None taken."

After our conversation, Captain Gunn once again contacted Captain Dorros hoping to remedy the situation.  She was informed that the problem was a simple breakdown in communication because I didn't understand Morgan Fleet protocols, and that everything was being taken care of.

An hour later, Captain Gunn received orders to report to Morgan Fleet Headquarters to surrender her ship and await disciplinary action.  

"I don't know what kind of game Captain Dorros thinks he is playing.  As the Commander of Fleet Train, he does have authority to discipline the Captains who are attached to Fleet Train, but he doesn't have authority to remove them from command unless he convenes a Captain's Council.  That would require three Captains who outrank me on the hierarchy.  Dorros himself wouldn't be able to sit on it, because he doesn't outrank me.  Even then, I'm not attached to Fleet Train, I'm attached to Vanguard.  Before Vanguard transitioned, I got orders from Admiral Thomas to get my ship repaired and wait with Fleet Train for Vanguard's return or until he passes me orders to the contrary.  Those orders specifically did not transfer me from Vanguard to Fleet Train."  Captain Gunn was ranting a little.  I could tell she was angry, so I let her get it all out.

"So what do we do then?"  I asked.

"We form up and follow at a distance."  Captain Gunn replied.  "My orders, the legal ones anyway, are to stay with Fleet Train until they return or I receive new orders from Vanguard, so that is what I'm going to do.  Your orders included a temporary transfer to Fleet Train, so you belong here.  The fact that Dorros is ignoring you and shutting you out doesn't change that.  Hopefully we'll re-connect with Vanguard and the Admiral can straighten this out."

Not long after, Fleet Train started transitioning through the jump point.

Miami Pete 26

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:

The Tricycle of Thought: Miami Pete:

Thanks for reading!

"Captain, this is a Morganite matter.  You aren't involved."  Cmdr. Barona said.  As requested, Shelly sent her to my office/quarters.  She arrived with Mother Ahmisa quicker than I expected.

"Like hell I'm not involved.  Lt. Tine is my Astrogator, and I have need of an Astrogator at the moment.  Shelly, whatever rank is Shelly anyway?  Whatever it is, I don't believe it outranks a Lieutenant, does not have the authority to order him to the brig, and just when did Hauley sprout a brig anyway?  I sure don't see a brig on the design schematics.  If there was a brig, that asshole Al, and probably Grace too, would have complained about the facilities.  I don't remember them complaining about any facilities other than the VIP quarters."  Yes, I was rambling.  I don't like surprises and Shelly sending Lt. Tine to "the brig" that I didn't know I had qualified as a pretty big surprise in my book.

"It's a Morganite matter."  Cmdr. Barona unhelpfully repeated.

Just as I was about to start ranting again, Mother Ahmisa interjected.

"Captain, I understand that some of the more esoteric practices of Morganism is unfamiliar to you.  Please, allow me to reassure you, this is not as crazy as it seems."

"Ok fine.  You can get with the reassuring whenever you are ready, because all I saw was one of my crew struggling a little when reality didn't fit his expectations.  Heck, the idea that someone, or something, managed to create a hyper-jump point somewhere one don't belong is a bit of a shock, even to me, and I have the advantage of not knowing the math, so I got no idea how possible or impossible that is.  Anyone tries to put me in this invisible ghost-brig over it is gonna have a fight on their hands."

Cmdr. Barona scowled.  Mother Ahmisa, smiled.

"Nobody will put you in the brig Captain.  First, you aren't a Morganite.  Feel free to believe that moons are made of cheese or that hyper-jump points are made of soup if you want.  Secondly, I always hated calling it 'the brig', but no one listens to me, I'm just the morale officer."  Mother Ahmisa explained, "This so-called brig is a facility in cargo hold one.  Please feel free to visit it Captain.  It doesn't even lock the person in.  It's just a quiet, comfortable place to sit and contemplate on Morganism and what it means, where nobody will bother you.  Well, except me of course, but I only do that when I feel I am wanted or needed."

"So, Lt. Tine is off contemplating religion, because he saw coordinates for a jump point that shouldn't exist according to Morganite doctrine?"  I asked.  "I'm sorry, and I mean no disrespect Mother Ahmisa, but that's crazy.  The world is what it is.  If Morganism is so weak that it falls apart as soon as something doesn't agree with it's worldview, I'm surprised you guys are still around."

"Is that what he is struggling with?  Sorry Captain, I didn't have a chance to familiarize myself with the situation before coming to talk to you.  Shelly made it sound like you were angry enough to start spacing people."  Cmdr. Barona said.  "I'm sure that, given time, Lt. Tine will work his way through this crises and get right back to duty."

Mother Ahmisa gave Cmdr. Barona a look of frustration.

"Captain, I don't believe in keeping my Captains in the dark like this.  I believe that Morganites bring a lot of persecution upon themselves by not being more open about their beliefs.  Lt. Tine comes from a sect of Morganism that they could discover the will of the Creator through the application of pure science.  Two hundred years ago, very idea of it seemed blasphemous.  The church leaders believed that everything we needed to know about the Creator could be found in the church's teachings."

"Mother, I must insist you stop at once.  The Captain is of the Outside!" Cmdr. Barona seemed to be getting upset.  "We shouldn't be exposing the Church's failures to someone from the Outside!"

"That is why I am Mother, and you are a mere Commander."  Mother Ahmisa said, consolingly.  "The Captain is concerned for a member of her crew.  That member is a Morganite.  Do you understand how rare it is for a non-Morganite Captain to care about the internal struggles of a Morganite crew member?  I believe that what Lt. Tine needs right now is the understanding of his Captain, and this Captain is willing to listen and understand.  You will not place yourself in the way of that."

"Yes Mother."  Cmdr. Barona said with resignation.  

Mother Ahmisa turned back to me.  "In order to escape the Church Leaders of the time, the scientists sect took to space in huge multi-generational science ships.  Until recently, those ships were savagely hunted by the Church.  It was that conflict that spurred on much of the Morganite advancements in ships and technology.  The Church hunters would take a Scientist ship, kill or arrest everyone on board, and strip it for every bit of new technology they could find.  The Scientist ships in turn were supplied through underground Morganite sects who disagreed with the Church's policy of hunting them."

"And through piracy... don't forget the piracy."  Cmdr. Barona helpfully added in.

"Yes, and through piracy."  Mother Ahmisa agreed exasperated.  "Never let us forget the alleged piracy."

"Are you secretly a Scientist Mother?"  Cmdr. Barona gasped.

"No, I am from one of the Hunter Sects.  To my shame, it was my people who hunted the Scientists to extinction.  I remember the day the Hand of the Creator caught and destroyed the Electron.  The Church had banned the hunting of the Scientists for over twenty years, but that did nothing to stop two hundred years of hate.  When the Electron was destroyed, there were celebrations and parties. I was just a child at the time, all I knew is that one of our Hunter families fought the evil foe and prevailed, all glory to the Creator.  It wasn't until college that I saw the footage of that battle.  The Electron was almost three hundred years old.  It was already outdated when the Scientists bought it.  Sure, it had all the technology the Scientists invented, but still it wallowed like a pig.  It wasn't a threat to anyone.  So I started researching the Electron's supposed pirate activity.  Nothing I found stood up to a hunter's eye.  Ships would sight the Electron and flee, then report it as if they bravely fought off a heated pirate attack.  Other ships that actually were attacked would claim it was the Electron, but I could easily see the trademarks of other pirates on those attacks.  The way the Death Stalkers swarmed their prey with smaller ships.  The way the Hammer of Fate would lie in wait and use it's enormous inertia cannon to take out the ship's engines.  I was not surprised at all when I saw the video evidence that exonerated our Mr. Tine."  

"So what does this all have to do with Lt. Tine being in the brig we don't have?"  I asked.  The history lesson was fascinating and all, but I didn't see how it was getting me my Astrogator back.  I don't want to sound cruel or heartless, but in my opinion getting Lt. Tine functioning again and back at his job was probably the best thing for him.  I know that when I get upset, doing some preventative maintenance or rebuilding some spare component usually snapped me right out of any funk.  Although, I probably would have to smuggle something into my office to work on these days.  Any time one of the crew caught me actually doing anything around here, someone took it away and did it for me.  

Mother Ahmisa answered, "When Lt. Tine was convicted and sent to prison, he believed that he was being punished for questioning the Creator's wisdom.  He turned his back on science and his people and adopted the beliefs of traditional Morganites.  When he was finally exonerated, he was cast adrift.  The Scientists are gone, no other sect wants him.  Out of desperation, he joined the fleet, but the only rate he qualifies for is Astrogation.  When you told him of a jump point where everything in his traditional Morganite beliefs says is impossible, but he knows it isn't because you wouldn't lie to him and he himself once wrote a paper theorizing the possibility.  So his old beliefs are conflicting with his new beliefs."

"Oh, I get it.  I think"  I said.  "Maybe I should go have a talk with Lt. Tine."

I found "the brig" right were they said it would be.  From the outside, it looked like a big shipping crate, with a door in the side.  A door in the side of a shipping crate isn't all that unique, lots of shipping crates have them.  I knocked lightly on the door.  After a few moments, Lt. Tine opened the door.

"Captain, I...  I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything Lt. Tine.  Just listen."  I said, "Mama Ahmisa has tried to fill me in on what's going on.  Can you explain to me why a wayward jump point can cause you such a problem?"

"Because it shouldn't exist.  It brings into question the existence of the Creator."

"Does it really?  Because it seems to me like it only brings into question your understanding of the Creator.  If the darned thing is there, and I assure you it is, do you really think it's there in spite of the Creator's wishes?  Do you really think, as a mortal man that you're so intelligent, that the Creator  would be incapable of intending something outside of your understanding?"

"I've never thought of it that way Captain."

"Mr. Tine, it is your job as the Astrogator on the good ship Haul-o-caster, to understand these things to the best of your ability, so I, as Captain, can make decisions.  I was given to understand that you are uniquely qualified to do that."

"Yes Captain."

"Far be it from me to intrude on your religious observations.  We've got a week before we'll really need you on the bridge.  Feel free to take that time and contemplate existence or whatever you all do sitting alone in a big box in the cargo hold, but I need to be able to count on you when we get where we're going.  Can I count on you Mr. Tine?"

"Yes Captain."

An hour later I was sitting in what was becoming my favorite place on the Haul-o-caster, the Captain's chair, when Lt. Tine walked in and took up his place at the Astrogation station.

"Captain, I apologize for my behavior."

"What behavior would that be?  As far as I'm concerned, you just saw something weird and needed a bit to get your head around it.  When you've been in as many places as I have been in, you'll realize that happens to all of us sooner or later."

"Thank you Captain."

Lt. Tine's reservations aside, when the fleet reached the coordinates the jump point was indeed still there.  I don't know why I was expecting it not to be.  Maybe I let Lt. Tine's doubts effect me more than I thought.  Yet, there it was in all it's glory.

"Would you look at that?" Came a surprised exclamation from Lt. Tine,  "Captain, I was expecting Bardoen Radiation as well as the Gravitonic Radiation that usually surrounds a jump point, but it isn't there.  Instead there is something else.  The Haul-o-caster's sensors can't quite give me a good enough look to tell what it is."

After a moment of - I hope well hidden - anger that Lt. Tine would disparage Hauley like that, I calmed myself down.  "I've been through this jump point twice.  Once each direction, and I didn't feel any ill effects.  Are you saying that it isn't safe Lt. Tine?"

"No Captain, I'm saying there is something in the Creator's design that I, as a mortal man, do not yet understand."  Then Lt. Tine smiled.  It looked a little odd coming from the pocked, tattooed, usually somber face, but it was nice because it looked genuine.  I think Lt. Tine has finally gotten his groove back.

"Comm, get me a line to the Polly Bont."  I requested.

In a few moments a slightly plump, excited face came up on my comm screen.  "This is Polly Bont Actual.  Nice to finally meet you Captain Petra."  After all that happened with Gregorious, the name Petra didn't sit well anymore, but that was a battle for another day.

"I hear you have a bunch of fancy sensor equipment over there for looking at Hyper-jump points.  Can I have my Astrogator send you some readings to get your opinion?"  I replied, "And I have a gift for you."

"Sure thing Captain."  Polly Bont's Captain replied.

"Lt. Tine, send over your readings and whatever they need to take a further look into what you found.  I'm sending over a data packet to also include.

I wrapped up everything from Hauley's two jumps through this jump point into a packet along with a request to please keep my Lt. Tine up to date with what they found, and sent it over.  Turns out, they would have plenty of time to look it over because Admiral Thomas called a halt for a few days in order to give the fleet a few days to get everything in order.

The next day, we got a call back from the Polly Bont.  I had Shelly at the communications station put it up on the main viewscreen so everyone could see and hear.

"Captain, I would like to thank you for embarrassing my Astrogation team."  The Captain of the Polly Bont said laughing.  "Those guys really needed something to deflate their egos, it was getting hard to shoe-horn them through the hatches.  The readings that your Lt. Tine brought to our attention appears to be a new form of radiation.  If it has been seen before, we surely can't find any reference to it.  My guys missed it completely.  Might I suggest we call it Tine Radiation?"

Lt. Tine practically choked.  

"Lt. Tine, you did discover it, so unless we can find a previous claim, by tradition you get to name it."  Said the Captain of the Polly Bont.  "I have to say, we've already been calling it Tine Radiation, and we like that name."

"Very well," Lt. Tine said,  "Tine Radiation it is.  I sure hope it doesn't turn out to be something horrible that I just put my name to."

"So far, it doesn't seem any more dangerous than the Graviton Radiation that we usually find surrounding a Transition Matrix, but we've been experimenting and have some updates for our gravitonic shielding that will also keep it out just in case."  Polly Bont's Captain replied.  "And Captain, thank you for the transition data.  I admit that I usually get a little bit of a thrill transitioning through a new matrix blind, but this one frightened me a little.  It's nice to have data for the trip and for the other side."

The fleet took an extra couple days upgrading everyone's shielding.  Hauley's shield generators were a bit different from the Morganite generators the other ships used, having been patched in at some point in the past as an expedient repair.  Luckily, or more like because of good planning, Hauley carried a spare, so it should have been child's play to get the spare updated and swap them out.  I peeked at the update proposal when it came in from the Polly Bont, and it didn't look too difficult.  Hey, I had to let the engineers have all the fun of doing the maintenance, didn't mean I was going to let them make changes I didn't approve first.

After what seemed like too much time, I finally got an unexpected call from the good Chief.

"Captain, I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but I'm at a loss."

"What seems to be the problem Chief Williamson?  Most of the fleet has already signaled the flag that they have the updates installed.  You wouldn't want Hauley to be last would you?"  Yes, it was a little mean to be was poking at the Chief like that, but it was all in good fun.

"Captain, PO Smart and I are having problems understanding these generators.  We haven't seen anything like them."

"Of course not."  I said,  "They are from a reaction mass mining vessel used practically on the other end of the galaxy."  Now I admit, it took me years of sifting through junk piles and scrap yards on dozens of different worlds to finally find a match to the one installed on Hauley.  Until then, I had a couple generators lined up to replace Hauley's generator should it have failed, but thankfully that never happened.  The generators from the mining vessel were far superior to anything else I could find.  With them we could - and actually had a time or two - take Hauley into the top layers of a gas giant.  AKA hiding from pirates and/or government patrols.  We couldn't go very deep mind you and we definitely couldn't fly through the core and survive, nothing could do that besides pretend ships in movies with particularly bad plotlines.

"I'll be down to help in a moment!"  I said excitedly.

I hate to admit how sad I was when I saw how much my workshop, more correctly called the ship's Engineering Section, had changed in the few short weeks since Hauley got it's new crew.  I almost cried, but managed to keep it to myself.  Somehow.  

It sure was nice finally doing something with my hands again.  I had the whole operation planned out in my head as soon as I saw the update recommendation from the Polly Bont, so I knew it was possible.  I also knew it would take some skill and fabrication to get it all to work right.  Chief Williamson and PO Smart had the spare generator torn down further than it needed to be, and I could tell from all the numbered parts and notes that they were doing their best to document what they were doing so they could get it all back together when they were done, but it was also clear that they didn't understand the basic operation of the device because they were basing their assumptions on how the Morganite Fleet's generators worked.  All of which makes perfect sense.  Before I came down, I debated with myself whether I should just send them the schematics and let them work on it.  Now I'm glad I didn't.

As we worked on getting the backup generator updated and put back together, I talked my way through what I was doing, the theory of operation as I understood it, what the differences between this and the Morganite units were, and the troubles we might encounter with them.  To my delight, the Chief had a couple ideas of his own to mitigate some of those possible issues that we added to the design.

All too soon, we were done.

"Thankyou Captain.  I think PO Smart can take care of installing it.  Then I would like it if you would allow PO Smart and I to update on the other unit.  I want both of us to have familiarity in case we ever need to repair one of these.  I assure you, we will ask for help if we run into any problems we can't figure out."

"Very well Chief, I enjoyed getting to work with you."  I said, and I meant it.

The next morning, the Chief visited me in my office.  He brought up design specs and blueprints on the screen that matched our new gravitonic generators for my approval.  He also brought up some drawings for a new gravitonic generator that he was designing based upon what he learned.  It was an incredible design.  I could see a number of places where the new design fixed issues we had to work around in our existing generators.  This design would be lighter, more efficient, and as far as I could tell probably more reliable than the mining ship generators.

"Captain, I would like to submit this to the Morganite Fleet for consideration.  The gravitonic generators used by the fleet are pretty good, but they don't hold a candle to this design, and if I haven't missed something, this design should be able to scale much better than the current design."  The Chief continued, "I would also like permission to put in a request that the fabrication lab on the Fleet Tender fabricate a couple prototypes.  PO Smart thinks we can install one on top of the existing generator and rig a relay so we can run the new one for testing, but still have the existing one standing by in case we need it."

"Sounds good."

It felt good to be giving back to the Morganite fleet after all they had done for me, and I'm always looking for ways to update Hauley's systems to something better, so that was an added bonus.

Miami Pete 25

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:

The Tricycle of Thought: Miami Pete:

Thanks for reading!

I felt adrift in a sea of confusion.  How could I?  How could I turn on Pete's friends like that?  Didn't Pete rescue me and give me a place to live and a job?  Without Pete here, I'm that same pile of garbage that he found me on.  I was dead.  I should go back... back to the garbage chute and throw myself in.

"Commander, she's coming to."  The light shining in my eyes was blinding, "I think we got to her in time."

In time?  What was Dr. Farn doing in the... wait, where were they again?

"Captain, Captain.  Can you hear me?"  that was Barona.  Why wouldn't she let me sleep?

"Get up Kid."  Came Pete's voice.  "There's shit to do."

"Pete?  I killed everybody."

WOOSH!

I woke up sputtering and coughing.  I was soaking wet, and the water was so cold.

"Sorry Captain,"  Said Cmdr. Barona,  "You were freaking everybody out talking to the dead.  I had to snap you out of it somehow.  That Sarqua really did a number on you."

"The what?"

"Sarqua is the name we use for humans who have gained a little telepathic ability.  Usually they are mostly harmless.  They can maybe sway emotions so that you are more prone to like or dislike someone.  We thought Grace was one of those.  We were wrong.  Grace was one of the more advanced telepaths.  She woke up from that sedative the Doctor gave her a lot more quickly than we expected and attacked.  Fortunately Lt. Cmdr. Dorn is a little sensitive himself and noticed something was going on, so he put an end to it."

"What did he do?"  I asked.

"Sorry Captain, I didn't know what else to do, so I put a bullet in her head."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn seemed ashamed.

"You did the right thing Dorn.  She was attacking your Captain."  Cmdr. Barona said.

"She was just an unarmed little girl."  Dorn started crying.

"What?"  Dr. Farn questioned.  "Grace?  She wasn't a little girl.  She was a nice little old lady.  The kind that makes cookies and pies." 

"I guess that means she wasn't a beautiful goddess either then."  Said Lt. Tarn.  "I suspect she was playing everyone the whole time.  I had a grandmother like that.  I'm sorry I didn't see the signs sooner."

"Well Captain,"  Cmdr. Barona said  "Let's get you cleaned up, no sense in the crew seeing you like that."

Like what?  Barona helped me up and I went into Pete's... my... bathroom and looked in the mirror.  I had smeared, partially dried blood that looked like it was coming out of my nose and ears.  And there was blood on my new uniform!  I saved those two rat's lives.  I didn't know what angered me more.  That Grace tried to kill me, or that she made me bleed on my new uniform.

The whole thing was just so ridiculous that I had to laugh.

By the time I was all cleaned up and in a fresh uniform, Hauley was in place in the formation and the shuttle from the Baskins had arrived to pick up Al and Grace's body.  I wasn't sure why they still wanted it, but I was glad it was no longer my problem.

"Captain, comm incoming from Admiral Thomas.  It's marked as direct.  Do you want to take it in your quarters?"  Shelly said.

"Sure, send it in."

"Captain Petra, I hope you are feeling well.  I read the report that your empath turned out to be a full telepath and she attacked you.  I'm sorry, if I had seen any sign that she was more dangerous than a simple empath, I would have alerted you."

"It's ok Admiral, the Doctor assures me that the blood squirting out my ears was a purely natural phenomenon, and I'll be just fine in a few hundred years or so."  

The Admiral paused.  I think I surprised him.  After a moment, the Admiral smiled, and continued on.

"Ah, very well.   In the mean time, we have investigated the remains of Otford Station.  It is how you said, destroyed, but you already know that."  The Admiral continued.  "We've seen enough evidence to conclude that it actually was 'rus weapons that were used.  Yes, I know, you told us that too. I was just hoping you were wrong and it was someone pretending to be 'rus.  Our next stop should be the 'rus homeworld if you are still willing to take us there."

"Of course I am.  Why wouldn't I be?"  I really was confused.  I said I would take them and that's what they were paying all this money for, so why wouldn't I?

"I spoke with Cmdr. Barona while you were recovering, and I read the full report from the Path to Paradise on the incident with Captain Gregorious.  With that telepath bouncing around in your head and what Gregorious told you, I wouldn't blame you for having second thoughts."

"And third ones, and fourth ones."  I replied. "Captain Pete himself on many occasions told me: Kid, Pick a direction and move.  Don't just sit there.  Even if it turns out to be the wrong direction it's much better to be a moving target than a sitting duck.  Well, Admiral, the direction I've picked is to throw in with the people who I haven't caught lying and trying to manipulate me.  So I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"Excellent.  Would you be more comfortable having the Haul-o-caster to take point and we'll follow, or would you be more comfortable feeding the next set of coordinates to the Hecktor C. Baskins so that you can stay nice and safe between the carriers?" 

Now that was an excellent question.  I really could just give them the whole course plan and they could fly off to the 'rus homeworld without me.   Pete made sure not to save the coordinates on the nav system's drive when we went there, but I'm sure he knew that I saved them encrypted in my personal filestore.  On the way back through, I'm not even sure why I followed Pete's example and didn't save them on the system that time either.  Still, I didn't even have to go to the encrypted filestore to get the data, I had it all in my head.

"I'll transmit coordinates to the Baskins."  I said after a few seconds thought. Hauley may have been built from a military landing craft, but she really didn't have all that much armor.  The Baskins and the other Morganite warships would all have armor designed to stand up to ship-to-ship weapons fire.  Hauley's armor was more designed for small arms and other atmospheric weapons.  Hauley would be toast if a fight broke out with the 'rus.  

The Admiral seemed surprised that we would be taking the jump point so close to where Otford Station had been.  It didn't feel like he didn't believe me.  It felt more like "huh... we've been looking for this and it ends up being right here?"

Once again, the Polly Bont had the honor of scouting.

"Commander Barona, it seems unfair for the crew of the Polly Bont to always have to be the ones that scout the jump points." 

"Are you kidding Captain?"  Cmdr. Barona replied.  "The Polly Bont was purpose built for the job. She has triple the graviton shielding as any ship in the fleet, and while she's destroyer size, she has hull plating like a main line Battle Cruiser.  Yes, that makes space tight aboard her, but she only has a crew complement of seven.  Each crew member has their own living quarters bigger than yours, and they have cutting edge experimental hyper-jump couches that make even the worst jump just like flying in realspace.  There is a waiting list to even apply to be crew on a hyper-jump scout ship, and only the best of the best are selected.  They get the sexiest uniforms, and the best food.  On top of that, the hyper-jump scout pay is incredible."

"I take it you are on one of those waiting lists?"

"Oh heck no Captain.  Why would I do that.  Those guys are insane!"  Cmdr. Barona laughed.

"Hauley could totally do that job."  I said, and I meant it too.  "Pete and I have taken the Haul-o-caster through some of the longest, hardest hyper-jumps in existence.  I wonder what the Polly Bont would think of some of those jumps.

The next leg of the journey was to the unknown - at least to most people as far as I knew - jump point that would take us to the 'rus home system.  Or at least that's what Pete and the monks seemed to think it was.  A short while after I transmitted the coordinates to the Baskins, I got a call from the Admiral.

"Are you sure that's where the jump point is?  My people are saying it's an odd place for a hyper-jump point.  I'm an Admiral, not an Astrogator, so my gravitation physics may be a little rusty, but it even looks like an odd place for a jump point to me."

"That is where we found it." I replied, "Maybe that's why nobody seems to have found it before now.  Nobody looked in the right place."

Apparently, the Admiral either accepted that was possible, or thought I was leading the Morganite Fleet into...  what exactly?  As I have pointed out before, space is big and expensive.  This was easily the largest fleet that anyone had ever seen.  The battleship alone out-massed most worlds whole fleets.  Add in the Battle Cruisers and the Carriers and I was surrounded by more firepower than most people could imagine.  I guess they would just have to believe it when they see it.

The whole questioning thing worried me though.  I know these are the right coordinates, I saved them into my encrypted datastore myself.  It bothered me enough to take a gander through the encrypted log that I had the nav system create, just to make sure.  Sure enough, there the coordinates were in the log, just like I remembered them.

"Mr. Tarn, what would you think if someone gave you these coordinates and said there was a jump point there?"  I sent him the coordinates.

A few minutes later Lt. Tarn got back to me, "Captain, those are some odd coordinates.  My first reaction was to say impossible, but I do not get the feeling that you are the kind of Captain that asks something for no reason, so I dug into the matter further.  I do not believe a hyper-jump point would naturally occur at those coordinates, however with a little bit of funky math and a significant amount of power, I believe a jump point could be induced there."

The only times I had ever heard about anyone creating - or inducing as Lt. Tarn termed it - a jump point was part of a scam.  That scam was a popular one among the shysters years ago, but almost nobody falls for it anymore.

"Mr. Tarn, I didn't fall off the transport yesterday.  I've seen people run that scam."

"No Captain, that's not what I'm talking about."  Lt. Tarn replied.  "When I was with my people, we did a lot of research into gravitational physics, looking for the truth about the hyper-jump points.  We did not believe like everyone else that the system of jump points are naturally occurring.  It's one of the things that my people were persecuted for."

"What?  Just for believing something different than other people believe?"  I replied, "Seems like a weird thing for people to get all spun up about."

"You don't understand.  The leaders of my people openly spoke against the Morganite doctrine that says the Good God created the hyper-jump points for the good of all peoples."  Lt. Tarn explained.  "In my incarceration, I came to embrace the Morganite dogma on this, but if there truly is a jump point to the 'rus homeworld at these coordinates.  I just don't know.  I haven't thought about these things in a long time.  Captain, I am sorry to report that I am having a crisis of faith."

I looked across the mostly-empty bridge - there was no reason to have ever station manned when traveling through deep space - to see Shelly staring at Lt. Tarn in shock.  She managed to shake it off after a few seconds, but I definitely saw it.

"Captain, as the highest ranking Morganite on the bridge, other than Lt. Tarn, I must relieve Lt. Tarn from duty.  Lt. Tarn, with all due respect, please go secure yourself in the brig.  Commander Barona and the Mother will be along as soon, I am sure."  Said Shelly.  I could tell she was nervous, and didn't like what she was doing, but I could also tell she really believed in it.

"Very well.  My apologies Captain, I stand relieved."  Whit that, Tarn left the bridge.

"Shelly, please explain what just happened."  I asked, "And tell me why we have a  brig on the Haul-o-caster that I don't know about." 

Shelly was almost in tears.  "Captain, I would love to be able to obey that order, but..  I don't know how much I can say.  Please ask Commander Barona, or Lt. Commander Dorn.  I'm sorry Captain, I wasn't prepared for this, I should have realized this might happen."

"This what?"  I asked.

"Morganites who work Outside are usually trained to resist temptation and the apocryphal beliefs from the outside."  Shelly really was crying now.  "I'm sorry, I like Lt. Tarn and to see him question the one true faith...  it's very upsetting to me."

Ok, I had started to think people exaggerated when they talked about Morganites.  Guess I was wrong again.  Morganites really are weird.

"Shelly, are you going to be able to pull yourself together?"

"Yes Captain."

"Very well, could you get on the com and ask Commander Barona to come see me in my office?"

"Yes Captain."

Miami Pete 24:

A blast from the past.  This story faded on me, now that the Kinderling story is done, thought I would finish it.

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:

The Tricycle of Thought: Miami Pete:

Thanks for reading!

Lt. Cmdr. Dorn must have made sure Lt. Tine didn't catch even a hint that the "inspection" was really a dinner party, because when he walked into Cargo Bay One, so big was his surprise, that when everyone yelled "Surprise!", he startled to the point that he landed on his posterior.  A number of hands were quickly offered to help him back to his feet.  Once he regained his feet, and his composure, Lt. Tine announced himself and saluted.  "Lt. Tine, reporting for inspection Capitan!"

Not knowing what to do, and wanting to show respect, I stood and saluted back.  "Tuck in Mr. Tine.  The feast awaits!"

Lt. Tine quickly found his place and was whelmed by offers of various platters and advice on what to try first.  It was nice to see everyone treating Lt. Tine like part of the crew.  I could tell the rest of the crew didn't know what to think about the quiet, somewhat morose man at first.  When he arrived, Lt. Tine was covered in prison tattoos.  According to Cmdr Barona, tattoos were a part of the Morgaite prison system.  When an inmate reaches a prison, they are marked with the prison's code and a code denoting the prisoner's status, with a symbol added for meeting major rehabilitation goals or sadly, for major disciplinary infractions.

Lt. Tine's face was practically a map of the Morganite penal system.  You could read Lt. Tine's history from either his personnel jacket or the tattoos on his face.  Lt. Tine was transferred from prison to prison.  Each line on his face decoded told much the same story.  Transferred - other than the top line on his right cheek, which had the code for arrived instead of transferred - a prison code, then one or more markings that indicated he killed another prisoner, then ended in a transferred out symbol.  The list covered his right cheek - I didn't count the number of lines - and then continued on his left cheek about three quarters of the way down.  The final symbol, on the last line of his left cheek decoded to "Exonerated".

Exonerated?  From the tattoos on his cheeks, Lt. Tine had ended nearly twenty lives in his time in the various prisons.  Cmdr. Barona couldn't tell me anything more.  His personnel jacket merely said  that he was convicted and sentenced to life in prison with no parole, and that he refused "Cybernetic Rehabilitation".  The jacket then listed 18 murders while in prison without any detail, just a name and case code.  Detailed a few different attempts to get the court to force "Cybernetic Rehabilitation". Then, said he was exonerated and released.  It went on to say he requested to join the Morganite fleet and was commissioned to the rank of Lieutenant, with certification for Outside Work, and an astrogating rating.  It didn't list any training, which had given me pause at first, but I watched him work and I'm satisfied that he knows his stuff.

It wasn't till I asked Mother Ahmisa that I got the rest of the story.  Turns out, Lt. Tine was once a member of an ancient, but now-defunct sect of the Morganite religion.  They studied the "old ways" and traveled through space using nothing but the stars to guide them.  The sect had quite a reputation for all sorts of heinous crimes.  Kidnapping, rape, piracy, you name it.  So, when the ship Lt. Tine was living on got into an altercation with another ship, it was assumed that his ship was at fault.  Answering distress calls, the Morganite fleet destroyed the sect ship.  Lt. Tine was the only survivor having manage to get to an  escape pod barely in time.

Thirty years later, a recording of that final battle was discovered by the new owner when that attacking ship was sold.  It told the very story that Prisoner Tine claimed all those years.  The sect ship hadn't fired a single shot.  Not even in self defense.

Cmdr. Barona saw what I was watching and leaned in whispering, "The crew is accepting Lt. Tine, because they saw how easily you accepted him.  Thank you for that Captain.  I have family members who were passengers aboard the ship that attacked them.  It's a sore spot in my family.  While none of them were crewmembers, so there isn't much they could have done.  They also didn't go out of their way to testify."

"So it was you who recommended Lt. Tine?"  I asked.

"Yes," the Commander said, "The trial and buzz around Tine's conviction for piracy was hyped by the powerful family that owned the attacking ship.  Pirates usually opt for cyber rehab, because they don't usually last more than a year or two in prison.  With the way the story was hyped in the media, it is amazing that Lt. Tine lasted more than a few days, let alone thirty years."

"I suppose that would explain the little red marks on Lt. Tine's cheeks." I said.

"Probably.  Normally it is illegal to remove penal system tattoos, but in Lt. Tine's case I wonder why he didn't get them all removed."  the Commander replied.  "I read the exoneration ruling.  It's a blanket exoneration.  There was enough of a question that the Monteno family might have been behind the attacks while Tine was in prison that the courts decided to overturn all of it.  The judges included a ruling that Lt. Tine could remove the tattoos."

I had always heard that the Morgan penal system was harsh and unbending.  It sounded like Lt. Tine had gotten a bad deal at first, but once evidence of his innocence was found, he was released.  I don't think that most penal systems, even the best ones, would have handled it as well.

"Captain, there is a Captain Gregorious on the comm demanding to talk to you."  Came Lt. Cmdr. Dorn's voice on the MC.

"Huh..  I thought he was dead."  I commented to the table.  "Please excuse me for a moment."

I made my way up to the bridge and signaled Lt. Cmdr. Dorn to patch him through.

"Captain Petra!  I am pleased you kept the name."  Came the voice of Captain Gregorious through the comm system.

"Captain Greagorious.  I am pleased to know you are not dead."  I said, not sure if I really meant it, but being nice didn't hurt anything.  "I have a couple of people on my ship that belong to you.  You want them back?"

"If you need them, they can stay."

"No, I would very much like them off my ship.  Where are you?  Can you come get them?"  I asked.

"Right now, I'm staring down the very-many-many-oh-so-many barrels of a Morganite Battle Cruiser, and they are telling me to get lost, and I'm inclined to obey that order."  Gregorious said.

"Hold on."  I said.  "Lt. Cmdr. Dorn, can you get me in touch with the Admiral?"  

"Yes Captain."

It took a few minutes - I imagine they were very long minutes to Captain Gregorious - for Admiral Thomas to get on the line.

"Captain Petra, I hope everything is going well."

"Admiral, it seems one of our Battle Cruisers is detaining the ship of one Captain Gregorious.  I would like to rendezvous with him in order to de-bark a couple of unwanted passengers, but I can't do that if he's blown to smithereens."

"Very well, I'll have my people send you a flightpath through the fleet so you can transfer your passengers, and I'll ask the Path of Paradise to hold their fire so you don't get any smithereens sucked into your intake."

"I appreciate it Admiral.  Petra out"

"Captain, as much as I hate to ruin the dinner, I would suggest setting the alert status at least to warning.  That is procedure for rendezvous with a ship who's intentions are unverified."

"Very well Lt. Cmdr. Dorn, set alert to Warning."

Soon the bridge was a flurry of energy as the crew scrambled to take their places.  

"What's going on?"  Came the surly question from Al.  I looked long enough to see that he had Grace with him.

"When we are at condition two, Passengers are expected to stay in their quarters!"  Said Lt. Cmdr. Dorn, rather forcefully.

"Al and Grace, get packing.  Apparently you were mistaken about Gregorious.  He's very much alive and we are taking you back to him."

Al seemed to blanche a little, and I might have heard a bit of a whimper from Grace.  I didn't really care though, I was just happy to be getting rid of these two dead-weights.

Boy, Gregorious wasn't kidding.  The Path to Paradise, one of the two heavy cruisers, and a mix of destroyers and frigates had what I assumed to be him covered in a way only the might of the Morganite fleet could manage.  The ship wasn't the Pride of Rome though.

"Mr. Dorn, could you please hail Gregorious?"  I asked.

"On screen Captain."  That was quick, and even with video. 

There he was in all his glory, with a young Chance looking over his shoulder.  For a moment, Chance looked... odd...  I recognized him, but he wasn't the attractive young man I remembered seeing...  then he started to focus into the Chance i remembered.

"Battle Stations!  Set condition ONE!"  Came a shout from Cmdr. Barona behind me.  I turned to see Cmdr. Barona pull out her side arm and push the muzzle into the side of Grace's head.  "Turn it off, or I turn you off."

"Barona!  What are you doing?"  I asked.

"Look at the screen again Captain." 

When I did, Chance was back to being unremarkable and not very attractive.  I turned back to Grace.  "You were doing that the whole time?  Why?"

"Gregorious owns me.  You think Al doesn't leave my side because he's in love with me.  It's not true.  He never leaves my side because he is my handler.  Please Petra... Captain...  Kid...  Don't leave me with them, don't give me back to him."

Well huh...  Grace being a slave sorta explains a few things, but not enough.  I turned back to Gregorious.

"So Gregorious, how did you escape?"  I asked.

"Chance and I got into an escape pod just in time.  This ship, the Trusty Traveler, found us just in time."

"You sure do seem to be in charge over there now.  Where is the Captain of the Trusty Traveler?"

"I bought the ship from them.  I am a man of means.  The good Captain and his wife are picking out which resort planet they want to retire to as we speak."  Gregorious said with a smile.

I don't trust smiles.  At least not those coming from Gregorious.

"Ok, Let's dock so you can have your people back.  Helm!  How soon till we are docked with the Trusty Traveler."

"Thirty Minutes Captain." replied Barns from the helm.

"Al, Grace, go pack your things."  I said.  "You are both going out that airlock, it's up to you if that happens before we are docked with the Trusty Traveler or not.  I am not in the mood for any more games.  GO!"

When our two unwanted passengers were gone.  "Barona, I want to stand down the Condition One, but make sure everyone is in position just in case Gregorious tries something...  Because I expect him to try something."

Sure enough, Gregorious didn't dissapoint.  Thirty minutes later we were docking with the Trusty Traveler.  as soon as the hatch to the airlock started to open, it was pushed in by a boarding team from the other side.  Barona and the crew were ready and jumped into action and had the boarders repelled in no time flat.  A few bodies littered the airlock, all from the other side, none from ours.

"Captain, might I suggest handing these two over to the Baskins.  They are better equipped to handling a telepath, and with how she was trying to influence you, a good enough case can be made that she is in with this Gregorious person."  Cmdr. Barona said.

"You are right, of course."

"Captain, Trusty Traveler on the comm for you."  interjected Lt. Cmdr. Dorn.

"Hold on.  Any way we can shut that one down before I talk to him?"  I pointed at Grace.  I was tired of talking to Gregorious and not knowing when I was being influenced or not.

"Sure think Captain."  Said Dr. Farn as a short yelp came from Grace.  Then she flopped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.  "Oh catch her...  Never mind.  I always think of saying that too late.  Sorry young lady."

"On Screen."  

"Petra, I had to try to board!  Can't you see?  They are manipulating you. do not give it to them!"  Begged Captain Gregorious.

"Give what to them Gregorious."  I asked.

"The 'rus homeworld.  They just want it so they can get the technology!  They'll destroy us all!"

"Helm.  Can we de-dock from the Trusty Traveler?"  I ask.

"Yes Captain."  replied Barnes.

"No, listen to me!  Where is Al and Grace?  They'll tell you!" 

I looked and sure enough, Al and Grace were gone.

"They are in the VIP quarters used by Grace, Captain."  Whispered Barona.

"Barnes, get us back to our place in the formation."  I said.

"Captain, what about the Trusty Traveler?"  Barona asked,  "Should we have the Path to Paradise take care of them?"

"Sounds good to me."

As we flew away from the Trusty Traveler, it turned to follow, and appeared to be absorbed in a column of light coming from the main gun on the Path to Paradise.  I was a little shocked.  Both because I had never seen such a weapon, and at how efficiently, heartlessly, and completely the small ship disappeared.

Seeing my discomfort, Barona said, "Sorry Captain.  After they tried to board us, the Path to Paradise was on high alert.  The Trusty Traveler started powering weapons.  Captain Ardencourt of the Path to Paradise is a no-nonsense kind of Captain."

"Very well.  Can you see to it that Al and Grace are handed over to the Baskins?"

"Shuttle is already on the way, Captain."

"Thank you Barona.  I think we can stand down from Alert now.  I'll be in my quarters."

I managed to get to the Captain's quarters, my quarters, without too much emotion, and even got the hatch sealed before I broke down and cried.  Was Gregorious one of Pete's old friends like he said he was, or was I just going around murdering the only connections to Pete that I had left?

Kinderling 62

In case you are interested in starting this story at the beginning, Kinderling 1 can be found here:

The Tricycle of Thought: Kinderling 1

Please don't judge the story or the writing too harshly, this story is written with little to no editing.  It is just meant to get me writing regularly for practice.  

Now back to our story, already in progress.

I killed Baot.

I didn't think about it.  I didn't plan on it.  How could I?  I had no way of knowing we would even see Baot today.  We usually didn't see him directly at all.  We usually just guessed at where he might be based upon our interpretations of how everyone else acted. 

Baot ordering a Kinderling to be burned alive just made me so angry.

"Tandy, we have to get out of here!"  Yelled someone.  I didn't really know who.  I could barely hear anything through the ringing in my ears.  I killed him.

A tug on my arm brought me back to reality.  At first I attempted to fight it but Lomas, one of the few village refugees who lived at the garrison who volunteered for scouting duty, pointed towards the village.  When I looked, it looked like every Gorf I had ever seen was running our direction.  I grabbed the monster-go-stick, and Lomas and I shot off through the trees.  I could only hope the others would also be able to escape.

Most of the Kinderling villagers were timid.  Very few of them wanted a ride on one of my go-sticks, let alone wanted to learn how to fly one.  Lomas was a little different.  When he joined the scouts, he went as far as asking for lessons.  Unfortunately, with all the excitement since we returned from the mountain we never got the chance.

Needless to say, I was flying at break-neck speeds, while Lomas held on for dear life.

"Why are you turning around!?"  Lomas screamed above the rush of the wind.  I couldn't put Lomas down, because he would be caught by the Gorfs, but I had to go back and see what was going on.  I hoped he would understand.

The village was in an uproar.  It seemed that the overseers still maintained control of their charges, but without Baot telling them what to do, it looked like each had a different idea.  There were a few Kinderling overseers, they were pooling their resources, sending their Gorfs out to capture as many scouts as possible.  Then there were the few Gorf overseers.  Some of them were sending their Gorfs after Kinderling villagers, the rest were converging on where Baot lie dead.

I realized too late how terrible that would turn out to be.  There was a Gorfish shout of triumph as one of the Gorf overseers snatched up Baot's master control bracelet and crammed it on his much to big hand.  In the end, he settled for putting it on a single finger.  All the Gorf slave soldiers stopped in their tracks.

"That's not good."  Lomas said.

"No, it isn't."  I agreed.

We were hovering above, far enough that we couldn't be reached, but completely exposed.  With an order from the new "Gorf Alpha", a hundred or more Gorf slave soldiers all picked up rocks and started throwing them at us.  It was time to leave.

I suppose it was a good thing over-all.  With Baot dead, and a Gorf now in charge, the mass of Gorf slaves - soldiers and non-soldiers alike - became much more single minded.  The new "Gorf Alpha" hadn't developed the knack for sending separate orders to separate groups.  As we barely flew ahead of the rocks and stones of various size and shape that flew at us, I even caught a glimpse of  a couple of the Gorf camp cooks tossing rocks at us.

After the initial terror at being chased, I realized that I could just fly up and we were soon out of range of even the best rock thrower.  It was almost funny to note that the new "Gorf Alpha" seemed to be having trouble coming up with the next idea, because more and more Gorf slave soldiers were gathering below us, all throwing rocks up in the air trying to hit us.  I'm glad that bows and arrows never seemed to catch on with Gorfs.  If they had and archer, our already bad day would have gotten worse.

One thing I learned quick when I started flying around on a go-stick was that what goes up, must come down.  Apparently that didn't occur to the new "Gorf Alpha" because the Gorf slave soldiers were piling up directly below us and were getting pelted by the rocks as they returned to earth.  It would have been funny if the sound of rocks hitting Gorf heads wasn't so sickening.

"Tandy, go over that way!"  Lomas yelled.  It was good to see that he was recovering from his initial shock and had started thinking.  I could tell what his idea was, and wasn't sure if I wanted it to work or not.  It was easy for him to forget that the Gorf Soldiers were slaves.  They weren't there because they wanted to be.  I was worried about Mouse.  I was constantly looking for him, but hadn't found him yet.  It was the same reason I hadn't considered using my final explosive arrow.

If only we could get rid of that master control bracelet.

Thinking about the master control bracelet made me look over where I thought the new "Gorf Alpha" was located.  I didn't see him.  What I did see was an out and out brawl.  The overseers were fighting for control.  We already knew, or thought we knew, that the master control bracelet over-rode the control that the individual overseers had.  When one of them got control over the master control bracelet, the rest attacked.  Everyone wanted to be the top-Gorf.  I suspect that Baot had ways of dealing with this problem, but the new "Gorf Alpha" didn't have the advantage of starting small so he could plan for these things before they got out of hand.

I hated to do it, but my hand reached for my arrow chucker.

My initial plan was to start picking off "Gorf Alpha" after "Gorf Alpha" until a better idea came up.  Surely that would keep them fighting each other and give the Kinderlings still in the village a chance to run and hide.  But in the pile of Gorf overseers, I couldn't see him.  He was definitely there, but where?  That's when my hand brushed against my last explosive arrow.  I'm not sure why I even carried the thing.  After seeing the devastation that it could cause, I never wanted to use one again.  The only reason it didn't go to the Star Sailor with the ones I made for him was because it was way too small to be usable by an Elven archer.  

"Hold on tight Lomas, this is about to get real bumpy."  I said as I pulled the explosive arrow out of my quiver.  I had to unfasten the safety I attached to it to keep me from accidentally grabbing it when I wanted a regular arrow.  The whole time, my mind, every fiber of my being, screamed "NO!"  but I didn't listen.

It seemed such a little thing.  Such an easy thing.  Set the arrow-chucker's mechanism.  Slide the arrow in.  Feel the click of the nock engaging the holder.  Bring the arrow-chucker up to my shoulder.

I felt like I was moving in slow motion.

Aim.  Release.

FWUMP!

I almost fell off the monster-go-stick.  I wanted to.  I wanted to fall.  I wanted to end this.  I wanted to remove the most evil thing I could think of from our world.  

Me.

Lomas caught me and held on.

I came back to reality with Mizzy and Mama wrapped around me.  My throat was wrecked.  Someone nearby was softly screaming, then I realized it was me.  My face was wet, Mizzy was wet,  Mama was wet.  It gradually sank in that I was crying.  Still crying.

"We won't let you go Tandy.  We're her for you.  We love you."

I would say it took days to recover, but I would be lying.  I'm not sure I'll ever recover.  I'm a killer, a monster, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself.

When my explosive arrow hit the pile of overseers fighting over the master control bracelet, it killed or at least disabled all of them.  The few Kinderlings who had overseer bracelets were already out of action.  When Baot's control ended they were the first targets of the Gorf overseers and were killed quickly.  Maybe the Gorf overseers didn't like the idea of Kinderlings controlling their fellow Gorfs.  Maybe they just saw them as easily removed competition.  I don't know.

The monster-go-stick did exactly what it was designed to do when it lost it's rider.  It slowly, gently returned to the ground, much to the surprise and relief of poor Lomas.  With nobody controlling the Gorf slaves any longer, they slowed like the Gorf slaves we saw in the forest.  To hear Lomas tell it, that was more terrifying than being chased.  The Gorfs just stood there, watching him as he tossed me over his shoulder and tried to carry me back to the garrison.

Mama found us, of course.  As soon as the first scouts returned to the garrison with news of what happened, Mama flew out to look for me.  Well...  As soon as the second scouts returned anyway.  The first was Daisy, but she was so excited and upset that nobody was able to understand what she was saying.

Flower's tribe took care of removing the - now former - Gorf slave soldiers that were left from the village.  I don't know where they took them, or what they did with them.  Watcher assures me that they are safely far away from the Kinderling village and they will never bother us again.  

Adiz of all people took over the village council and the task of bringing the village back together.  Father retired saying he had about enough of the back-stabbing drudgery of it all.  I'm not sure how back-stabbing and drudgery go together, but Father insisted that's what the whole mess was like, and he was done.  To everyone's surprise, Adiz brought in Kinderlings from both the garrison and from the village to take part and from what I am told, does not allow any kind of resentment in the council chambers.  We are all Kinderlings, it's time we acted like it.

Initially, Beso was nowhere to be found.  Adiz signed an arrest warrant for both him and Daggi saying she wanted them to stand trial hoping that seeing justice done would help in the healing process.  That trial never happened.  Beso's body was found one morning hanging from a tree in the village square.  A Kinderling girl confessed to the murder, offering her expanding belly as evidence that he deserved his fate.  It was clear that she was far too small to have done it herself, but nobody cared to charge her or look for accomplices.  

Daggi was never found.  I still see him in my nightmares.

A year later, the village commemorated Union Day.  I hid in my room crying.  I'm not sure who thought fireworks were a good idea, but whoever it was can just go to the below.  From then on, I celebrated Union Day by myself, or at least as "by myself" as Mizzy allowed at the cave by the lake.  It was far enough away from the village that I couldn't hear the fireworks.  

Some years, the Star Sailor stops by and brings the Lady of Eastwood.

And so ends our tale of the Kinderlings.  Keep watching here (if you want to, of course), I'm sure I'll start another story soon, and thanks for reading.