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The Meeting - Part Twenty-Six
What's In A Name?
07-04-2268
Epsilon Indi
Aboard the CNV Malta Ted Allbright paced the room with a nervousness
he hadn't felt in the two weeks since the SRF had been destroyed. Something
about seeing Colonel Chen was making him nervous; an effect very few people had
on him. He paused again to look out the small view port into the deep space of
Epsilon Indi. It was a clear courtesy on the part of Chen to stage this
encounter in one of the few locations on the destroyer that actually offered a
direct view of the darkness of space outside. He relished the view. Those were
constellations he knew. The faint light from the distant Lysithea nebula was a
familiar and comfortable glow to him. He was eager to get back to it.
The door hissed open and Colonel Chen stood
there with her hands behind her back. A gentle smile warmed her face. They
greeted each other stiffly. He had been the room's only occupant when she
entered, but as a guest on her ship he wasn't sure if he should offer her a
seat, or wait for her to offer him one. She solved his dilemma by simply
sitting in the chair next to her with a graceful ease and comfort that put him
at ease as quickly. He sat at the other chair by the small table.
"Mr. Allbright," she said. "Is there anything I
can say to change your mind?"
"Uh.no. Not really," he stammered. "I'd really
just rather take the deal you offered before." He grew a little more hostile as
a thought occurred to him. "You aren't going to go back on the deal, are you?"
"Certainly not!" she replied with a hint of hurt
in her voice. "I just hate to lose someone with your talents. You have a real
knack for.survival, Mr. Allbright."
"Call me Ted."
"Very well. Ted," she said, testing the sound of
it. "We already have everything ready, as you requested when you returned from
the mission. You have a new model Margate Multipurpose utility ship, fully
loaded with the best equipment we could get, complete with all the papers,
registered to you, and with the name you specified." She gestured toward the
space outside the window he had been viewing a few moments earlier. "I'm
surprised you haven't seen her already, docked at the next arm, fueled and
ready to go."
"No I didn't see her, but." he moved to the
window for a glimpse. "Oh yeah. I see it there, now." He nodded at the sight
before turning to face Chen again. "Looks good. What about the other stuff we
talked about?"
She enumerated the list on her fingers for his
benefit. "First-class papers, license, five year contract with the employer you
specified, better shielding, heater units, hydroponics lights, and air
scrubbers for your home base, and the cash bonus we offered as well. By the
way, you will want to check your little garden carefully when you get home. I
arranged to have a small surprise installed there for you. I hope you like it."
Allbright blushed and looked very uncomfortable
for a moment. "Uh.I didn't get you anything."
"No need, no need," she assured him with a
pleasant laugh and a raised hand. "But I would like to know something, if you
permit a question."
He shrugged. "Sure, I guess."
"Why?" she said as she stood from her chair and
walked around the small round table to look out the small window. "Why did you
turn down a chance at a commission and a seat with a ship in the Navy? It seems
the Indies would have taken you, too. My sources tell me you were offered your
old job back on the Acadian. You once described your handy-man job here
in Epsilon Indi in very.colourful and unfavourable terms. I got the impression
you hated it. Why would you choose to return to it?"
He shook his head a little at that, and sighed
before answering. "I guess because this time, it was my choice. Those
other postings, they sounded great but. they aren't who I am. I'm not cut out
for that stuff. Navy. Indie. It really doesn't matter. After all that death and
shooting and exploding and almost dying a dozen times, I realized that my
little FTL maintenance job had its good points. Now I got my own rig, I'm
actually looking forward to it. I'm out of debt, and I have a fresh start. I
haven't even craved a drink once in over two weeks. Two whole weeks! That's
some kind of record for me."
Chen faced him and nodded with an understanding
smile. "I see. Thank you for your candour, and for everything else. I sincerely
hope you will stay in touch; perhaps favour me with a message from time to
time. Who knows, maybe I'll even pay you a social call someday at your little
home base."
"That'd be nice," he said, surprising himself at
how genuinely he meant it.
"One last question, Ted," she ventured. "If you
permit."
"Shoot."
"Why did you choose the name Isolabella
for your new ship?"
Allbright smiled and winked. "Sorry," he said,
as he stood and held out his hand for her to shake. "Some things just gotta
stay private. See you around, Colonel."
____________________________
20-04-2268
Priesthole Base
Independent Navy Headquarters "Come in, Captain Volochkov," said MacDuff.
"Come in. Please. Sit." He gestured toward a chair and nodded to his assistant
signaling for more coffee. "I suggest you try the coffee. It's real. So is the
milk."
"Well," said Volochkov as he sat. "I see that
your status has afforded you a few of the finer luxuries."
"Let's just say that my position allows me a few
small niceties," MacDuff smiled. "I take advantage of them when I can."
"I'm sure you didn't call me in here for a cup
of coffee," said Volochkov. "And since things didn't exactly go well at Momar,
I've been waiting to hear whether I would be exposed and executed, exiled, or
just left to run useless errands."
"Oh, none of the above, I asure you."
"Then why am I here?" Volochkov pressed.
"No doubt you're aware that we've been taking
some time sorting through the details of what happened last month in Momar."
MacDuff sat back as the coffee tray was delivered, waiting until the door was
closed again. "The loss of the Crack-In-The-World has been a tremendous
loss to us."
"Yes, but the Navy also lost a destroyer and
even more ships, not to mention that vast research facility."
MacDuff waved his hand dismissively. "They'll
rebuild that thing in no time. They might even use the same location even
though those planetoids aren't there any more. And we can't afford to be
trading losses ship for ship with the Navy. That's a losing game for us, to be
sure." MacDuff took a careful sip of his coffee and closed his eyes as if to
savour the taste. "No, the real problem is that those events only served to
polarize the Council even more than it was. The Independence movement is in a
bad way and the time pressure is greater than ever. Those who embrace COSA feel
it's even more important that we throw our lot in with them now. Those of us
who don't like COSA so much, feel that the mission has become even more
important than ever."
"By mission," said Volochkov. "I assume
you're referring to your personal mission; your desire to find a way out of
this conflict and to expose COSA's involvement?"
"Indeed. The Commonwealth has been decidedly
silent about those events. The explosion of the SRF was dismissed as some
random stellar event, the defeat of the Crack-In-The-World group hasn't
been mentioned even once, and the loss of the Purdue has also been
written off as some random combat loss. No, the Commonwealth is keeping
secrets, and these secrets only serve COSA's interests. This means that the rot
goes all the way up to the highest levels of power. However, I still believe
that there are those in the Commonwealth who aren't involved with COSA; those
who would listen to us. The importance of making contact with a clean and legitimate
member of the Commonwealth Navy is greater now than it ever was. Unfortunately,
the best candidate we've been able to find thus far: the Captain of the Redoubt;
this Captain Ferris, is also a liability. He's lost any credibility he may have
had. He will not be listened to in the halls of power. He's been tainted by
this false accusation of treason, and by his association with Chen. They truly
fear and mistrust their own intelligence force. Such disdain still astonishes
me. We're back at square one as far as candidates go, unless."
"Unless?"
"Unless you were able to procure another contact
for us to use, a legitimate, clean and well-known Navy contact, perhaps? All we
need is a name."
"I'm afraid.no wait," Volochkov thought. "Ferris
did mention someone. He mentioned a ship called the Dreadnaught. Yes,
the CNV 301 Dreadnaught. Apparently this ship is the deadliest ship in
the Navy these days, a true rising star. He called them the 'new sweetheart' of
the Commonwealth Navy."
"The Dreadnaught, eh? Yes, this ship is
known to us. She's been giving us a bit of trouble these past few months. It
certainly fills the 'warrior' requirement. We're running out of time, but this
lead sound's promising," mused MacDuff as he took another sip. "What's her
Captain's name?"
"I don't know. I.didn't get that," Volochkov
said. "My 'spy' skills must be slipping. I didn't think it would be important
so I never asked. I just got the sense that Ferris was a little envious of
them."
"An even better reason to consider them," Macduff
seemed heartened. "No matter. I'm certain we'd be able to get the Captain's
name eventually, but as I said, we're short on time. I'll look into this Dreadnaught
and consider your suggestion carefully. I thank you, Captain." He started to
push himself out of his chair. Volochkov remained immobile in his seat.
"What about me. What will happen to the Wolf-In-The-Fold?"
MacDuff settled back into his seat and gave
Volochkov a careful look. "I need loyal ships now, more than ever. Even though
the Crack-In-The-World and her support group were not among my inner
circle, I had tremendous respect for Captain Guzman and her people. We lost too
much potential there. I lost some of my more trusted Captains as well. I lost a
friend. I can't afford to lose any more at this moment. So our deal stands. I
want you right where you are. You've proven yourself a worthy asset, and I
assure you I'll keep you on the inside of any further developments."
"Then don't just dismiss me like this. Tell me
what you plan to do."
"Very well, Captain," said MacDuff as he poured
fresh coffee into both cups. "You may even be invited to participate in some
small way. You see I've prepared an invitation that will be etched into a piece
of thermal shielding debris that we plan to use as a sort of calling card. All
that was missing in this message was the name of the addressee. I suppose using
'the Captain of the Dreadnaught' will do, won't it. That invitation will
be launched at a Commonwealth station just hard enough to embed itself for later
retrieval. It'll be launched from, the Acadian, which is one of our more
loyal commercial associates. We've arranged to make sure that this piece of
debris is retrieved promptly and shown to the right people. Unfortunately, we
have no control over events from there, but we will assume that the right eyes
and the right minds will see it. From there, it is up to their intelligence
people and the Captain of the Dreadnaught to follow through. Would you
like to see the text of the message?"
"Yes," said Volochkov. "It sounds like quite a
gamble you'll be taking."
"Indeed it is," said MacDuff. "In fact there is
considerable risk associated with this venture, but we're running out of time.
We could use some more help, though. For example, the Acadian could use
some protection to make sure it gets the message safely to and from the target
system. Interested in a little escort mission?"
Volochkov nodded slowly, a half smile creeping
up one side of his face. "Yes," he said. "I believe I could be of use there."
____________________________
24-04-2268
Saltlake Naval Base
Earth orbit L-5
Aboard the CNV534 Redoubt Captain Ferris stepped over the lip of the
hatchway onto the bridge and paused there for a moment to fully experience the
pleasurable feeling of familiarity and comfort. He was home again. His bridge
officers were huddled over something near the NAV station at the front of the
bridge, conferring about some problem they appeared to be having with a piece
of equipment. Ferris cleared his throat. Iwamasa was the first to look up and
bellow "Captain on the deck!" a little too loudly. McMichael and Ravindran shot
to attention as well, turning to face their Captain and dropping the item in
question in their haste. McMichael started to bend to retrieve it, then stopped
himself thinking better of it, and resumed his salute.
"As you were," said Ferris with a hint of
suspicion.
"Welcome back, Captain," said McMichael, a
little too eagerly.
Iwamasa and Ravindran had moved away from the
pilot's station, as if distancing themselves from the scene of a crime,
preferring to hover nearer their respective duty stations in silence. Ferris
took it all in, but waited to see if they would offer an explanation. Since
none seemed forthcoming, he proceeded with his speech.
"I trust you've all had an enjoyable leave. You
certainly earned it. As you know the events that took place at the SRF in Momar
have been classified. The Navy has decided to completely bury the whole thing.
Officially, it never happened. Wexler had some powerful allies that are still
in power, and they don't want any attention drawn to this. President King was
also eager to have this whole thing buried. The SRF never officially existed,
so in their wisdom, they've decided to cover up one lie with a few others. The Purdue
and her ships were lost to a series of random Indie assaults. Lie. Vice Admiral
Wexler died in an accident. Lie. And the destruction of the Crack-In-The-World
doesn't get mentioned. Ever. We must each swear an oath of secrecy on this. All
of it. The penalty for violating this particular oath is.quite severe. The
price I have exacted for this secrecy isn't so bad, though. The Redoubt
got a nice little refit, and a spot of paint. I got to handpick my crew, and I
get to a certain amount of latitude when it comes to selecting plum missions."
"What kind of accident?" Asked Mac.
"What?" Ferris shook his head.
"What kind of accident was Vice Admiral Wexler
supposed to have died from?"
"This, you're going to like:" Ferris looked down
at his feet trying to conceal his amusement. "He died while serving in space.
His official cause of death was reported to be a bad seal."
McMichael, Ravindran and Iwamasa all looked at
each other incredulously.
"They can't be serious," Iwamasa said. "That's
got to be the oldest joke in the Commonwealth Navy. I mean: that's been around
since we went into space."
"It isn't a joke; not this time," said Ferris
soberly. "At least not to the public it isn't. Those of us in the Navy will
know; every working spacer will know. But the general population has no idea
what that means."
"I can hardly believe it, 'a bad seal',"
McMichael shook his head in disbelief. "I'm starting to believe that the
Commonwealth Navy actually does have a sense of humour. That's just too
rich. Makes swearing to keep all those secrets almost worthwhile." His foot
snaked out trying to push the bright, reflective object behind his other foot.
"Alright, what's going on here," he asked
McMichael in a tone that made it clear it was too late to conceal anything further.
McMichael looked down at his
feet, picked up the item and held it tightly. He shot a pleading look at
Ravindran, then at Iwamasa before proceeding to explain. "Well, they really
went over the ship after we got back," he said, "repairing, cleaning, repainting,
the whole bit. But.well.they took down my mirror and dice." He looked up to the
place over his station where they had been affixed to the support beam. Ferris
followed his gaze, and indeed, the whole area was scrubbed clean, freshly
painted, and conspicuously free of any adornment.
"I figured you probably wouldn't
agree to me putting a new one up," he continued. "I know the last one caused
you some grief, and I heard about the scolding you got because of Colonel Carr
before we went on leave. But I found another personal touch that would be much
less.conspicuous." He held out the object that had fallen. It was a chromed
metal stylized human skull about the size of a billiard ball. It bore a
devilish grin, and the bone of the brow looked to be knitted in anger. The eyes
contained bright red faux jewels; probably cut red glass. It looked like the
kind of gaudy trinket one would see on the head of the cane of a carnival
crier. McMichael held it up closer for Ferris to inspect. "Wait, this is the
best part." he pressed a region at the back of the tiny silvery object, and the
eyes came to life in an eerie glow of red light. "The guy who sold it to me
said the power cell in there could last for years. And hey, Captain, you never
know when an extra power cell on the bridge might be a life-saver, right?!"
"You've thought of everything
haven't you, Mac," said Ferris fondly. "Where exactly were you going to put
this.thing.?"
McMichael scrambled to step up
into his elevated piloting station and take his seat. He held the ghastly
death's head trinket in front of him with reverence before slowly lowering it
onto the top of the post of the ship's main attitude control joystick near the
right arm of the powered seat. "Right here, where only I can see it," he said.
"We were just trying to figure out the best way to attach it when you came in."
He looked back and forth between Ravindran and Iwamasa who chose to remain
silent. "Well we were. They both admitted that they liked it, and they had some
very helpful suggestions for attaching it. Don't let them tell you anything
different.pair of kiss-asses." Ravindran and Iwamasa took their seats at their
respective stations and tried to look busy.
Ferris found it too difficult to
hold his stern expression; he was having too much fun. He burst into a laugh
that surprised all of them. The laugh spread to the others for a moment. As it
died, Ferris said, "Damn, it's good to see everyone again," and he
looked at Iwamasa, "and right where they belong. It was nice to have a month's leave.
Believe me, we all deserved it, but I have to say it feels good to be back
here." He turned to McMichael and addressed him again as he sat at the Command
workstation, still dormant while they remained docked.
"Yes, Mac, you can put your
little red-eyed skull on the controller as long as it doesn't interfere with
any functions or orders, and it poses no projectile risk. I also suggest you
attach it in such as way that it can be quickly removed and stowed for
inspections, repairs, cleaning crews and the like."
"Yes sir!" replied McMichael
enthusiastically. "I just wish that cursed Colonel Carr hadn't made such an
issue out of the rear view mirror."
"Oh that wasn't all bad, Mac,"
said Ferris. "I managed to turn that into an all-out investigation by a team of
efficiency experts. We may see the rear view mirror again someday. In the
meantime, Colonel Carr, who has incidentally made a full recovery and bears us
no malice, was satisfied with the proceedings, and with your punishment."
"My punishment?" McMichael looked
confused.
"Remember, I promised to punish
you for calling him a 'bald-headed psycho', or something like that. And
he wanted to be there to make sure you were actually punished in a manner
satisfactory to him? Well he's satisfied."
"But. you never punished me,"
said McMichael, a little confused.
"No I didn't," Ferris said, "but
I did promise him I'd keep a little secret; a little something I learned about
him that he would rather wasn't public knowledge."
He looked at them all as they eagerly waited to hear
the secret. He was enjoying their anticipation. "I'll let you in on it, if you
all promise not to let it off this bridge. Consider it a rider to your oath of
secrecy. Since we're in the secrecy business, I'll give you this as a little
gift for swallowing the truth and endorsing all those other lies. But if word
of this gets out, I'll have to punish Mac for real, and suffer the consequences
of a tarnished honor," he said both sarcastically making it clear he didn't
care one way or another.
"Would you like to know why he
was given the nick name 'The Barber'? Anyone?" He looked back and forth
at their confused faces. "Anyone?"
"Oh, this, I've got to hear,"
said McMichael. Once again, the Captain was one step ahead of the rest of them,
which was why McMichael had always liked serving with him.
"'Hear' is exactly right, Mac,"
continued Ferris. "I checked the inventory of files we acquired for our last
mission, including those unclassified files flagged for our Colonel's personal
use. I then verified this by asking around, and believe me, not many people
know, or are willing to confirm the reasons for his nickname. Anyway, listen to
this." He slipped a data-chip into the reader on his console and touched a key.
He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back in his chair with a
distinctly smug look on his face. Music began to play over the bridge audio
system. They listened to the sounds of men's voices singing in strange, often
complex harmonies a cappella. McMichael watched Ferris' grin grow wider
still, as they listened to the song.
"Excuse me, Captain," Iwamasa
finally asked, "but what is that?"
"That is an antiquated
style of singing known as 'Barbershop Quartet' singing. It turns out that it is
the sole off-duty passion of our esteemed Colonel Carr. That is, when he's not
training his soldiers, killing people, or bothering officers of the
Commonwealth Navy." He burst into laughter.
"That is the weirdest thing I've
ever heard." Iwamasa said over the laughter of McMichael and Ferris.
"It's kind of catchy isn't it?"
Ravindran broke in. "I mean, I could see how it would grow on you."
Ferris immediately cut off the
audio, plunging the bridge into relative quiet again. The three men all turned
to give Ravindran a silent, disbelieving look.
"What?!" she said, defiantly.
After they turned back to their respective duties, she could be heard muttering
to herself in a mock defensive tone, "Well, I liked it."
Acknowledgement
The Meeting
is an amateur writing project. I'll be the first one to admit that I still have
a long road ahead of me when it comes to writing skills. Anyone can write a
story, but I'm learning that to write a good story, and to write it well takes
a good deal of technical skill, patience, experience, and far more hard work
than I thought. Bringing a story to fruition, even something so 'frivolous' as
science fiction is a laborious process. I'm still learning, and this story,
represents a few more steps taken along that path, nothing more.
Having said that, I feel that this story is
an improvement over my previous efforts, and is certainly more ambitious in its
scope. It's a notch or two above anything else I've done to date, and I'm proud
of it. When you read The Meeting, you are reading the result of
considerable effort, long hours of work, and the benefit of much assistance
from others. These people deserve recognition.
For starters, I have to acknowledge the
people who created the Independence War games. They are responsible for
inspiring me to use their universe to tell stories. Their creativity and hard
work on those excellent games helped me to sit down and pursue this effort.
Thanks also to The Corporate for his pastie deckplans and the entire deckplans
thread at the I-War internet forum (now gone forever, I fear). It helped me to
understand the insides of an important part of a corvette. I also must also
thank Parias and the entire gang at the Atari I-war forums for keeping this alive,
and SoupDragon and his wonderful Independence War website for hosting my
stories past and present. I must also thank those who edited and read earlier
drafts, providing comments and feedback, to help make this a tighter story.
Thanks to Shane Maness for his helpful comments, and to Rob Douglas for his
considerable editorial skills, his writing advice, and for helping me to
realize that this is something I should just sit down and do.
Finally, and most importantly, I wish to
thank my wife for encouraging me the whole time, even when it conflicted with
other daily demands, and for supporting me in this crazy undertaking, simply
because I enjoyed doing it (imagine, a novel that would be read by only a
handful of fans, and that would make absolutely no money!). She believed that I
could do this before even I did, and she helped make the time for me to
write, even though I doubt she really understood just how profoundly geeky this
kind of thing is. That's amore, baby!
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