Starfire
Copyright© 2025 by Mark Randall
Chapter 2
The FNS Invictus, a heavy battlewagon of the Federated Navy, was 6 months out of the LaGrange 1 space dock. She had docked at the Mars Station to take on fuel, additional crew, and provisions. Her orders included taking on Admiral Daggatt, who had been assigned as the new fleet commander, and he had decided that the Invictus was to be his flagship.
The day before she was to sail, the Captain was called to fleet headquarters. When he arrived, he was called into Admiral Washburn’s office. “Ray, good to see you, son. How’s the ship? Ready to sail?”
“Yes, sir, just waiting for Admiral Daggatt to arrive. We sail at 05:00 tomorrow.” Captain Kaplan proudly replied
“Yes, I know Daggatt wanted the Invictus for his flagship. But unfortunately, those plans have changed. Later today, a civilian will be coming aboard. You will follow his orders.”
“Sir, I don’t understand. The Invictus is a Navy ship, commanded by Naval officers. Civilians are passengers, not commanders.”
“I agree, Ray, but in this case, neither you nor I has any choice in the matter. This is coming from the High Senate.”
Captain Kaplan sat silent for a couple of moments. Finally, he said, “Aye Aye, sir. I’m sure that Admiral Daggatt isn’t too happy about this.”
“That would be an understatement. Look, Ray, I don’t like this either. Our orders are quite specific, and as good officers, we will follow those orders. But I will give you some additional orders.” He reached into the center drawer of his desk and pulled an envelope out. “Ray, these are letter orders to you. They state that you will do what YOU must to ensure the safety of your ship and crew. This is the best I can do for you. If, in the course of your duties, you find it necessary to space your passenger, these orders will cover your butt.”
“Admiral, sir, do you think it’s going to be that bad?”
“Captain, it is my experience dealing with people like your passenger that it is best to err on the side of caution. Hopefully this mission will be a fool’s errand, but well, who knows.”
Washburn stood and walked around his desk. He held out his hand and shook Captain Kaplan’s hand. “Now that that’s all taken care of, let’s meet your passenger.”
Admiral Washburn led Captain Kaplan into his conference room. Seated at the table were two men. They were dressed in identical olive drab coveralls. There were no identifying patches or insignia. The older of the two had white hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to look straight into Captain Kaplan’s soul. The other was younger but still intimidating. He was a military man and not someone Kaplan would want to meet in a dark corridor.
“Captain Kaplan,” Admiral Washburn started, “May I introduce Mr. Keseburg and Mr. Graves. Gentlemen, this is Captain Raymond Kaplan of the FNS Invictus.”
Captain Kaplan held out his hand to Mr. Keseburg. Keseburg didn’t move; he just stared at the Captain. Kaplan slowly drew back his hand and considered offering it to Mr. Graves, but when he glanced towards him, he changed his mind.
Admiral Washburn sat down at the table across from Keseburg. “Captain, have a seat.” He said, “We need to discuss a few issues and go over the mission.”
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