Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (47 page)

Captain Valance saw many nodding heads and
expectant gazes as he continued. "You're not here for the money.
You're not here for transportation. You're here to serve aboard
because you believe the Warlord has a purpose, or because you
believe in the crewmembers standing with you. Maybe you want to see
more of the galaxy, to free people from bondage, or to take revenge
against Regent Galactic. If so, I have news for you. You are on the
right ship.

"If you're here to become some kind of hero,
you're on the wrong ship. If the thought that the Warlord will see
the most action of any vessel in our fleet keeps you up at night,
then you are on the wrong ship. If hard work is new to you, then
you’re on the wrong ship. I need a crew that works together, likes
seeing good work done, and keeps the fight moving in the right
direction. We’re going to see worlds few ever bother noticing, meet
people who seem strange to xenobiologists, and face challenges that
you will not believe are surmountable. That is when you look to
your left, your right, and realize that you are not alone. Once
that main hatch closes and we’re leaving orbit, we’re a family. You
serve with everyone aboard. Like or dislike your crewmembers on
your own time, when you’re serving aboard the Warlord, you treat
everyone like your brother or sister. If that’s a struggle, then
this is the wrong crew for you. If it’s what you’ve been looking
for, welcome home.”

The room was filled with the sounds of
applause, and Jake caught a glimpse of Ashley wiping a tear away.
He decided to watch her more closely; she’d been through too much
recently, and he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better for her
to stay with Oz on the Triton. The excitement started to ebb, and
he went on.

“You get a rest once we’ve settled into
hyperspace tonight, but there’s still hard work ahead. You’ve
probably noticed that only a few of us have a proper bunk, and most
of you are set up on a cot in the secondary cargo bay. We also
don’t have a real galley, and you can see through the deck in some
places. Your home has a few problems, and that’s something we need
to fix. I expect the inside of this ship to be finished in five
days. It’s all crew quarters and secondary systems, you’ve already
finished the hard parts, and I’m impressed. In return for all your
hard work, I’ll arrange a hold full of profit and a long, stolen
supply train to haul right back here. Big hauls mean bonuses. Those
rewards don’t stop at cash, either.

“By the time we get back, things will be
different. I expect there will be a little settlement moving onto
our new island, where I hear there are some pretty nice beaches.
Everyone on this ship has a place reserved for them on that
island.”

Jacob took immense pleasure in the wide-eyed
astonishment of his crew. He gave them a moment to mutter amongst
themselves.

He only had to begin speaking to regain
their full attention. The crew silenced each other, anxious to hear
what their captain had to say next. "Anyone who left before finding
out about this won't be welcome back. New recruits will have to
work for a chance to live there, but when we return we'll take
liberty on her shores. If I have my way, we'll be sitting on the
beach, exchanging gifts on New Year's Eve." Jake couldn't help but
smile as Ashley's gleeful squeal broke through the rest of the
crew's jubilation. He let it go on for a minute, enjoying the sight
of his crew in celebration. They earned it by rebuilding the core
machinery on his ship, and they'd earn it again before long.

With a raised voice, he broke through the
din. It was time for serious business. “Now for rumour control. Our
lead pilot, Ashley Lamport, did not keep us from the Triton on
purpose, or because of some misunderstanding. No one appreciates
how important that ship is more than her, and if she could have
gotten us access sooner, she would have. That is now a non-issue!
Examining the details of that situation is a job for senior
officers only. It is above your head. You owe Ashley Lamport all
the respect that comes with the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

“For those of you who have raised concerns
about our privateering license, your concerns are valid. We do not
have permission or orders to attack vessels on any side. If anyone
asks, the Warlord is an armed cargo hauler. The moment we forcibly
board another vessel, we are pirates. We will capture whatever we
can and repurpose or sell whatever we can and the Carthan
Government won’t get their cut.”

Jacob finished with a wide smile that was
almost as big as Frost and Minh-Chu’s. “Thank you for signing up.
Check in with your departments. That is all.”

With a subtle gesture, Captain Valance
beckoned Frost and Minh over. Stephanie saw the pair crossing the
hold and joined them. "We lift off in thirty," he ordered. "Make
sure everything is secure, no one leaves the ship and no one
communicates with anyone off-ship.”

“What are we afraid of leaking?” Stephanie
asked.

“Just good practice,” Jake said. “I don’t
want any delays, and I don’t want the news crawlers to start
reporting on us until we’re gone. I know there are a few
crewmembers who would love to leak my whole info-session onto the
Stellarnet, and it’s not the time. Not yet.”

“Makes sense,” Frost said. “Funny how the
newsies are worse now that they’re run by real people instead of
AIs.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to going pirate
with all of you, even if we might be the most public pirates in the
galaxy,” Minh-Chu said. “I always knew I’d be a star.”

“We haven’t made our first capture, and this
one thinks he’s Blackbeard,” Frost said with a chuckle.

“But I can’t grow a beard,” Minh-Chu
replied. “And I don’t know who that is.”

“Oh, do I have some holomovies for you,
lad,” Frost replied.

“Can you take it from here, Steph?” Jake
asked. “I have to start prepping the bridge.”

“Aye, Captain,” she replied. “Thanks for
making me your First Officer. The Triton didn’t seem like a good
fit, but this is just right.”

“I know,” Jake replied. He left the rest to
sort out the people under their command. The bridge staff wouldn’t
be far behind him, so he headed directly to the nerve centre of the
Warlord. He tried not to pay much attention to the unfinished state
of his ship along the way. It would be finished on time, and there
would be a bonus for the construction crew when the crew quarters
were liveable, and all the other spaces were finished.

The bridge hadn't changed much. The
instrument panels had been cleaned to a shine, a couple were added
for new systems, but it was still a dark, closed-in roughly oval
space that looked like the design was crossed with a cockpit. A
small forward fighter bay for two Uriel fighters had been built in
the place of the old bridge, which added more layers of protection
to the new one.

The softly lit space and the seat in the
centre felt more like home than any ship he remembered serving on.
The captain's chair had scratches along the back from where his gun
belt hung, and the dark simulated leather upholstery was well
broken in. It turned to reveal Ayan. "Hello," she said.

Jake was genuinely surprised. It had only
been less than two hours since she’d ordered him to load his ship
and leave. She looked as if she expected him to explode at her with
some rebuke, but he had no such urge. She was grieving, and judging
from the little he’d seen, it wasn’t going well. The last thing he
wanted was to leave while she was in pain, but it was too late to
reverse course. “Hi,” he replied.

“I couldn’t let you go with the way we left
things,” Ayan said. “Well, the way I left them.” Her vacsuit was
black, without the heavy encounter armour she wore earlier. There
was no rank marked; if she activated her headgear she'd be
indistinguishable from most of the crew outside.

“I was going to call you,” Jake said. “The
next thing I was going to do.”

“I’m here now,” Ayan said, “and I’m so
sorry.”

Jake could see the tears welling up. He
crossed the short distance between them, and took her into his arms
as she rose to her feet. By the time she rested her head on his
chest she’d broken down completely. His instinct was to hold her
tightly, but he held back. He could feel the new muscles in his
arms cramping as he focused on fine motor control. Ayan had never
felt so small, or so delicate.

He let her cry for so long he had to check
the time by looking at a display behind her without letting on. He
felt some of her grief, but the Warlord was getting set for
departure. “Laura was a friend to me too, the first one from the
old crew to accept me,” Jake said. “She was one of the kindest
people I’ve ever known.”

“What am I going to do?” Ayan asked, looking
up at him. “I never let on, but she talked me through so much. She
was always there, and I never told her how important she was.”

“She knew,” Jake said. “Laura was smart
enough to know exactly how much you loved her.” Telling Ayan that
brought Jake’s grief out into the open, and he was surprised to
find a tear escape and roll down into Ayan’s upturned face.

“She was so brilliant,” Ayan said, her lip
quivering. “One of a kind. Can’t help but wish she let herself be
scanned.”

“The best of us don’t have time to worry
about making backups,” Jake said. “And that she was.”

Ayan’s hands squeezed the fabric of the
front of his vacsuit and she cried into his chest for a few more
minutes before calming down. “Crying like a child,” she said as he
carefully stroked her back. “Since I came back I haven’t been able
to get a grip on emotions like I used to. ‘Fraid you’ve taken some
of that on the nose.”

“It’s entertaining,” Jake said through a
smile. “I never know what’s going to come out of you next.”

She pounded his chest weakly.

“See?” he said.

Ayan laughed and took a step back, wiping
tears away. “I’ve also come here because I know we’re going to be
separated for a while, and I’m thinking that might be good. It
think it’s time for us to be professional about all this.”

Jake didn’t like where the conversation was
going. “Professional,” he repeated.

“There’s a time for relations, and it’s just
so hard to try right now. I can’t focus on what’s important while
I’m trying to make personal time when there’s none. I know you’re
thinking about other things too, while I’m in your arms you’re
checking your comm. That’s not the way we should be, Jake. We’re
distracted from each other
and
our duties, it’s
dangerous.”

“It sounds like you’re convincing yourself
as much as you’re trying to tell me,” Jake replied. “Where is this
coming from?”

“My best friend just died, things are going
on here, and people depend on me. I need clarity,” Ayan said.

Jake watched her, on the verge of tears, and
tried to hold his frustration in check. “Distance from me will give
you that,” Jake said. “That’ll solve your problem?”

“I hope there’s time later,” Ayan said. “But
I need space now. You do too. I know it, especially after you
checked-“

“I have a ship readying for lift-off,
sometimes-“

“It can’t be helped, yes, but still,” Ayan
said. “Just give me the space.”

“It’s yours,” Jake replied. “Maybe you’re
right. We’re keeping my officers from being on the bridge, I’m
sure.”

Ayan fixed him with a hurt expression, and
he wanted to cross the short space between them to reverse any
damage he’d done. Pride and frustration prevented it.

“I do want to take time when there is some,
Jake,” she said quietly. “But we have to be professional now. I’m
sorry if this hurts, it’s not easy for me either.”

“I’m fine, you’re right,” Jake said.

“Be careful, Jacob. I do need you back here
whole.” There was a seriousness in what she said that made him
wonder for a moment, but he let it pass. “Don’t worry about me,” he
said. “Take care of yourself, take the time.”

Agameg entered the bridge behind them and
stopped. "Commander Rice? I didn't know you were joining us,
welcome aboard," he offered. The fine cilia along his cheeks and
soft lower jaws rippled and changed colours from green to light
brown to yellow.

"Sorry, I'm not staying aboard. I wish I
were though,” she said, sniffling and shaking her head. “It would
be nice to escape.”

Jake and Ayan couldn’t help but notice as
Agameg's face turned pale, nearly white, and his large green eyes
went wide. "Oh, you were saying farewell, I'm so sorry. I'll return
later."

"No, I'm stealing time,” Ayan said. “Don't
let me get in your way. Oz gave me something he retrieved from the
Triton," she said, returning her attention to Jake. From a satchel
she retrieved a small transparesteel box with a glass inside.
Inscribed on the black base was 'A Drink With Jonas.' “I thought it
would be perfect for your quarters.”

"I thought that was lost," he muttered in a
hushed tone. Jacob accepted it and turned it around, looking at all
sides. The memory of sitting down next to his predecessor, the
nearest thing he had to a father, in the Pilot's Den aboard the
Triton came flooding back. It was impossible to avoid remembering
what happened next when Regent Galactic activated a destruct device
hidden in the first Wheeler, who clung to Jonas so he wouldn't die
alone. He did his best to put the lingering anger and grief aside.
"Thank you."

Agameg was concentrating very hard on
checking the reactor readouts and ignoring what was happening a
couple of metres away.

“Thank Oz,” she replied. “Stay safe.”

He watched her walk away, unable to shake
the nagging feeling that he was missing something important.

“If you don’t mind me saying, Sir,” Agameg
said. “She seems extraordinarily stressed.”

“She just lost her best friend,” Jake
replied, starting for the engineering station behind his captain’s
seat. “Sometimes people push instead of pull people closer when
they feel alone.”