Chapter 13

My evening at the nightclub with Merritt and the nurses was filled with dancing and alcohol. All the nurses who ate with me in the mess showed up and claimed a table with us. The women all wore tight fitting dresses with the intention of impressing me. Once the alcohol consumption of the nurses had reached a level to release their inhibitions, each nurse got me on the dance floor. My dance partners used their feminine curves and womanly ways to keep my attention on their sexy parts. One by one, I escorted a nurse to the dance floor; time after time our table would explode with giggles, laughter and cat-calls.

The group's behavior emboldened each of my dance partners to do things that I am sure wasn't part of their normal nightclub behavior. The tantalizing spectacle drew lots of men to our table while I was dancing, but Merritt and the nurses rebuffed their approaches. My table's revelry was the focus of every single male in the club. We all had great fun, but I made my exit at a reasonable time to cut the xx chromosome-filled table off, before we let the passions ramp any higher. I went to the bar to close our table's tab and ran into Lt. Boorman who was alone.

It took a moment for the bartender to attend to me, which gave Lt. Boorman time to slide down the bar to confront me. The pilot spewed an abundance of slurred insults at me, which made my night. By repeatedly butchering our language he earned the attention of the muscle-bound bartender. Of course, bartenders are part of the ship's security team. Thus, Bryant Boorman was summarily escorted out of the nightclub, to a small holding cell, to sleep off the behavior caused by his over-indulgence. The nurses saw the restraining cuffs on him, so some of my friends would be spreading some interesting ship's gossip. We all knew his personnel jacket would receive an unwanted black-mark for his actions. "It couldn't have happened to a more deserving person," I thought.

The next four days were a blur of suit inspections and minor repair work, along with an afternoon of shadowing Commander Tarry. To my eyes some of the chief's methods with his engineers were inexplicable, but the breadth of his knowledge was uncommon for a man without implants, and his ability to instruct others was impressive. Part of a spacer's certification process required observations with senior staff, which was normally done just before the final testing. Thus, tagging along with the old engineer kept me in good spirits, knowing I'd qualify as a "spacer" again pretty soon.

Being seen training and working helped me gain the crew's trust, something that was necessary if I was going to escape the ship successfully. I felt a bit conflicted about misdirecting people, but my first responsibilities were to my children and wives on Haven. The women committed to me would understand or at least accept my actions. Ultimately, the feelings of the ship's crew weren't my problem.

The chief engineer surprised me at the end of the shift, after following him around. He ordered me to the armory for a fitting, extending my normal workday. Commander Tarry honored my clan heritage by adding a ship defender badge to my spacer rating. On family ships even spacers were fitted with armor and weapons to use in the defense of the clan ship. Both the Solon Clan and Empire reserve fleet personnel used Shark armor. Traditionally, the empire didn't fit armor for someone with only a spacer certificate, he had to get his "advanced spacer" rating for the defender badge. The combination of my limited academy training in armor and clan heritage nudged the chief engineer to bend reserve fleet rules or perhaps all officers were fitted out in armor. I felt odd about how I received the ensign rating, but my duties and service on Haven certainly measured beyond the naval rank bestowed upon me.

Ulla was waiting for me with the armorer. I couldn't help smiling when Ulla stepped out of the weapons vault. It pleased me to see the head of security was the one to help me.

"What?" Ulla said, "Did you think I'd miss your fitting?"

We both laughed. The armorer didn't seem to understand what we were laughing at. Obviously, he wasn't aware Lt. Ulla Foth was my lover. She just grinned back at the guy, and then winked at me.

"Actually, I am a bit surprised about the fitting," I said, looking for her insights.

"Captain's orders," the flat-faced armorer answered.

"Yeoman Julie Gundlach's idea," Ulla announced with a twinkle in her eyes, as if there were more to the story.

Her response seemed to surprise the armorer. I could see Julie putting a word in for me with the captain. Ulla's smirking face gave me the impression she was as pleased as I was.

"Stand in the fitting circle," the armorer commanded, as he went to work gathering the suit's pieces. "Your carbine and sword are on the table. You can come back another day and try them out in the security department's gun range and workout compartment. The range isn't open for the rest of this day. Once a month the range has a maintenance cycle; today's that day."

It didn't take long for him to custom fit the armor because it was a pretty basic design with few pieces. A monitor behind him showed my measurements, probably from my time in medical. The Shark armor was comfortable for me since it was a light-weight design, nothing like marine assault armor. With my heavy world muscles I hardly noticeable the matte-black outfit as I moved around. The armorer handed me the helmet last. He didn't have to wait long to see my reaction to the wolf emblem on the back of the helmet.

"That's great! Thank you," I said.

He grinned and turned the helmet in my hands, so I looked at the front of it too. The The nameplate on the front read, "Lord Wolf."

"Merritt insisted we use Lord Wolf as your call sign," Ulla told us. "I questioned Kate and she agreed."

The armorer had a questioning look, expecting me to explain but I didn't. Fleet tradition was to use a man's real name unless he had been—blooded while using a sword—killed an enemy. You knew who had been in close-combat by looking at their helmet. It was sort of primeval to make the distinction between a sword or gun, but old hands thought it worthwhile to know who had gone toe-to-toe with an enemy and lived.

Ulla said cryptically, "I've seen the video."

It was everything I could do not to say, "What video?" However, I wasn't going to spoil the moment nor risk getting V. Solon on my helmet instead. The blood price for my call sign had been paid for on Haven. Dead men visited me often enough in my dreams as the result of my swordplay.

The armorer placed the helmet on me and twisted it to attach it to the body armor. My helmet buzzed when it sealed. He tested the sniffers on the sides of my helmet. Everyone called the biological sensors that detected environmental hazards "sniffers." The Shark suit sensors were originally added to warn the wearer if a room was losing oxygen or had an unhealthy carbon-dioxide build-up, later more radiological and biological sensors were added to avoid other nasty surprises.

He fussed over my combat gloves using a special machine that formed them around my hands. The manufacturer called them smart gloves. Our smart gloves were a safety feature; micro-connections in the Shark gloves sent a signal to the Mark 12 carbine. The two connected to each other authenticating the weapon handler. A boarder couldn't just pick up the weapon from a dead crew member and use it; sensors embedded in the weapon needed the gloves to operate. It wasn't a perfect system, a raider could take the time to disconnect the gloves and put them on to use the weapon; however, the gloves had to fit perfectly for the nanomites to power the circuits. Also, unless the raider were wearing Shark armor, he wouldn't have a compatible glove to protect against decompression events. Not many experienced spacers risked potential suffocation.

Satisfied with the fitting, the armorer kicked us out of the armory, after stripping me of my new present. We moved the armor, boarding sword and carbine back into the vault. Ulla followed me into the corridor. The two security men on duty acknowledged us, watching from their desk as we jumped into the nearby elevator.

"How's Kate?" Ulla asked, once we were alone.

"Kate's kept in contact with me using video mail on my PDA. It's refreshing to feel Kate needs me and wants to keep in contact," I responded honestly. "I think we are over our rocky start."

I sensed a wholesomeness about her question that warmed me to a smile. Ulla was truly a friend, more than a friend in all the right ways. She hooked my arm and remained silent until the door opened and we stepped out onto my residential floor.

"I am glad you are working things out with Kate," Ulla said as the corridor ceiling lights flickered once, almost imperceptibly. "That's strange," I thought, but a shadow of recognition stopped my thought process.

I clamped my jaw when I saw Commander Price. His aristocratic features seemed surprised to see us. He stepped into the elevator, and then we stepped out and walked away. Commander Price wore his authority like an extension of his cold personality. It was haughty and stiff with more than a bit of hubris. Ulla held firm to my arm. I wondered what he would think about us, forgetting the flicker.

My PDA pinged on the command channel. Ulla fussed over me for a moment, giving me a polite kiss on the cheek.

"I've got to go anyway," she declared, leaving me somewhat unwillingly. Her face didn't match her words, but she went back to the elevator anyway.

A quick tapping of commands opened an order from Commander Price.

"You are to proceed to the testing center and perform your final, timed test for the spacer rating."

-Commander Price

"Bastard," I cursed, realizing I'd forgotten to log-off from my shift.

This was one of the off the book methods that hard-ass officers used with people they didn't like. You catch a crewman still on-shift and give them a perfectly legitimate order, even though they should have clocked off. This type of harassment would never go over on a clan ship, but it wasn't uncommon for empire reserve ships. I took a deep breath, it would look bad if I made an issue of being tired and beyond my shift. "Fine. It's not like I am going to be under his thumb much longer. He is just trying to rattle me again," I thought.

It was odd finding Rayz waiting for me outside my cabin. I'd just finished breakfast, treating myself by having the steward deliver it to my room. The test the night before had lasted four hours and I felt I'd earned the luxury of my VIP status breakfast. My partner was all smiles, so I wondered if he'd heard my test results.

"Commander Tarry sent me to get you," Rayz said with no preamble, pointing to the elevator down the hallway. "You weren't to take your rating test until today."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

He punched my arm, "You must have seen the order in the command queue and run to the testing center on your own. I'm impressed," Rayz said with a smile. "Commander Tarry didn't think it showed good judgment. He prefers we take our tests when we are fresh. Anyway, you passed with a solid score. So, I defended you and said, 'Imagine how he would do fresh.'"

He shook his head and led the way to the elevator, not seeing me flinch at Commander Tarry's comment about my judgment.

Once in the elevator, Rayz turned to me with a serious gaze. "Dorothy loved the piano bar idea. Our date went really well. She thought it was more romantic than the nightclub ... I can't keep anything from her, that woman twists my words until everything I know tumbles out; Dorothy knows it was your idea now."

"I'm glad it worked out for both of you," I mumbled, "but, I really wish she thought it was your idea. It's better for you that way."

"Sorry, Von."

"It is hard to keep a woman in the dark," I replied, "I have my own problems with that too."

"If it is any consolation, Dorothy said you were a good influence on me," he said, "and she likes you even more now."

"That's what friends do, Rayz. We look out for each other."

The elevator opened and we walked down a quiet corridor. "Von, I heard a strange rumor about you," he revealed. "The word in engineering is you found some sort of fountain of youth on that alien planet; furthermore, the locals of a small village sell the water around the planet for gold."

My joints locked up and I stopped to stare at Rayz. "You have to be kidding me!"

"Well, you are pretty young looking for your age," Rayz answered defensively. "It doesn't matter to me, but you do look exactly like your school entrance photo."

"My Academy photo?" I said with a mounting shrill in my voice. "How have you seen that?"

"Someone posted it on the ship's social media bulletin board, which runs on a loop in some of the smaller crew lounges around the sensor department. I saw it there, the same day I heard the rumor. Your photo should be up on other lounge monitors too," my partner answered, "The crew is interested in you, if you didn't know."

"Here I was trying to fit in. I thought I was fitting in," I whispered.

"It's alright Von, Dorothy and I still like you. It's not like the women are going to stop chasing you around," Rayz said, earnestly trying to reassure me. "I was wrong about you. You seem to know how to stir women up. I've never heard so much interest in a man. Why, practically every lounge I sit in when I'm off-duty has some set of women talking about you dancing with them and making them feel sweet on you. What kind of cologne do you wear? Apparently, they have looked in the ship's store and can't find the same scent."

"Can we talk about something else," I said, walking again.

Surprisingly, he sensed my frustration and went silent.

"What a rumor to start," I thought. "Why start it? Only someone from Commander Price's scientist meeting would know my village on Haven sold water. It's not miracle water. Is this is an attempt to pry more information about Haven from me as I defend myself? Why the interest in comparing my school photo to how I look now? Why stir the ship up, if it isn't to create a distance between them and me?"

We entered engineering and Rayz led me to Commander Tarry's office. I felt like the crew's eyes were on my back for some reason.

I blurted, "There is no special cologne nor special water."

He stopped and peered at me with a slack-jaw. "There goes my bet with Dorothy. We are going back to the piano bar, and now I have to wear whatever outfit she picks for me. She always wins our bets."

Rayz gave me a look that said "are you sure?"

"There is no magical water," I insisted, loud enough a few engineer techs heard me.

A general rumble of discontent reverberated with his response, "Fine, I believe you."

He looked fairly deflated at losing his bet, his eyes were distant like he was deep in thought. Even with his half-hearted attempt to be mad at me, I counted myself lucky to have him as my partner. Rayz's odd personality was growing on me. Also, he was trustworthy and a perfect back-channel contact for ship rumors and open gossip. He looked in my eyes and we connected, two guys just happy to have a friend around. Rayz punched me in the arm and we laughed at each other. I accepted his idiotic belief in magical water and he accepted my serious nature.

"Check all the outer-hull door sensors with your team mate this shift. Miley reported a few strange signal interruptions on the last shift," the chief's voice ordered through the door before we walked in.

The office lacked any real sound proofing because of its open-design. Inside, I saw an engineering tech disappear out the side-gap in the office. Commander Tarry was at the back of his office with a hand to his ear, listening to his ear communication piece. Most of the old crew members wore an earpiece, even though it was redundant when they had a perfectly good PDA attached to their belt. Then again, I didn't get that many calls and he probably was communicating with crewmen all day.

Rayz and I killed time by watching the Alert Board, commonly referred to as the "AB" for short. The AB provided readings from component sensors that monitored energy flows throughout the ship. It was sort of an early warning system for potential calibration issues. It was all in the green.

Waiting on Tarry, Rayz said, "He is giving us a new assignment."

"Really?" I said, feeling hopeful that we were done with suit inspections.

Our conversation was interrupted by a throaty cough. "Gentlemen? Good morning," the chief said with a drawl, rolling the words. "I'm glad you can keep yourself entertained while I am working." His face was relaxed and didn't match the rebuke.

The chief's conversation was over and we hadn't noticed. We simply saluted him. Commander Tarry waved us off, not expecting the formality. He reached for Rayz's hand and shook it, before adding me to the informal welcome.

His hand was firm and he gave my hand a few pumps before saying, "I've decided to use both of you mainly as spot checkers rather than add you to the routine maintenance teams. In a way you will be off the board rather than working the logged work. Today you will look at inner-hull, energy sensors. Your engineering PDAs will have a target list for you."

I didn't foresee any real difficulties with the job, since Rayz was my partner and I had some sensor equipment experience with tuning. Rayz looked at me funny when the chief said "off the board," but I didn't see that as unusual. Clan ships did lots of work off the daily work board, if you saw a need you just fixed it. I waited for Rayz to say something about it, but he didn't. "Maybe this is just part of what the captain and the chief engineer had in mind to test my abilities," I thought.

As if he were reading my mind, the chief said, "The captain and I agree it's time to put Ensign Solon on to a more challenging assignment." He paused waiting for my response, giving me a crooked smile.

"Thank you, Commander." I flashed a return smile.

"We are doing an unscheduled ship-wide energy systems reroute to simulate a failure in the mains. Get to your first assignment and check the sensors on all the secondary conduits. I don't normally check the sensors when they read normal on the main board but Miley suggested it. She rarely makes such recommendations, which gives me a nervous itch you're going to scratch," he said, disappearing back into his office with a faint smile.

Rayz already had his PDA open to the order and walked away. I trailed him, detaching my own PDA from my belt. The first location of our assignment popped up on my implant as I touched the menu on my PDA. Miley had anticipated my need and a map opened when I blinked, so I stopped and then closed my eyes for a moment, reviewing the information. I just wanted to know the level and tunnel number.