Chapter 5: Red and Yellow and Black and Brown

It was official — as official as documentation could make it. I was a retiree. My pension would be deposited annually, just a few thousand credits but enough if I didn't demand too much. I was released from duty — officially. The old-school term was "sheep dipped." I was a deniable asset. My mission, since at least the moment that Minister Sunday passed me a coded message and handed over custody of "Concubine Yums" (aka Agent English, currently going by the name Ashley Londoner), was to watch over an heir to the Zheeyad throne.

Also official was my new job. I was Pilot aboard the Lightning Bolt, a private Class 400 star ship rigged out for system surveys. The ship had a seven-light-year jump drive and was nimble for a freighter. The ordinary freighter was designed for economy and had half the performance but twice the cargo capacity. There were smaller cargo and passenger ships. My quip that we'd need a bigger star ship demonstrated an obvious truth: Lightning Bolt was a workable compromise between too big and too small for the mission of hiding an heir to the Zheeyad throne.

Back in the dark ages prior to star drives a 'document package' was a thick book or books on how to operate a system. Sometimes it was called the Operator Manual. Next up in the food chain was the holy book called a Repair Manual. Military manuals included Field Manuals and Technical Manuals. All were printed on paper, too expensive today. Paper has mass and mass costs credits to ship between worlds. Digital files, on the other hand, take up minimal space in memory storage. The storage unit can be empty or loaded with the entire library of a world and the mass remains constant. This library can be downloaded, updated, or edited as needed. I had an unused crew position on the bridge and was using it to practice piloting in simulated normal space. Off-line, of course! Lighting Bolt was still in jump space. I was rehearsing a routine return to normal space and a wilderness refueling from a comet light years from any star when Captain Manny entered the bridge.

"Still at it?" Captain Elizabeth 'Manny' Manchester asked. "Are you avoiding us?"

I stared at my captain for a moment, then asked a question that had been nagging me.

"Captain, what are our contingency procedures when meeting hostile star ships upon emerging from jump space?"

"Where did that come from?" Manny demanded.

"I'm practicing routine maneuvers," I explained. "I need to practice at least three hours per day every day. Where are your standard operation procedures? I'm improvising here."

"Let me see your scores," the captain ordered. The display was from zero to 999. The impossible perfect score was a thousand points: 999 was the "possible" score but a professional score was around 400. "Hmm, 398, not bad. I score over 700."

"Good thing you're the captain," I said.

"Your three hours are up," Manny commanded. "Come with me."

Did I neglect to mention that the ship's uniform was skin? That we were both nude? In jump space, there's little need for watch standing. Alarms will alert the crew when something out-of-the-ordinary happens, and then there's little that can be done. Jump space emergencies are rare. At least most star ships emerge from jump space without incident. A few have survivable incidents. Then a very few enter jump space and are never heard from again. Statistically, travel in jump space is safe. It is also boring because the universe shrinks to just a few meters outside the hull. Boredom is the number one cause of jump space incidents. Smart captains conduct training and do the maintenance not involving jump drive systems while in jump space.

Lighting Bolt had a different approach. Sex. Lots of sex. At least that's what it looked like to me. I'm not complaining! So far I had tapped Ashley several times, I got a load of Constance and Solace, and I got an eyeful of Manny fooling around with most of the crew. The medical technician, Kelsey Wright, was usually too busy to play within my sight. We security professionals look for patterns and then key in on deviations from those patterns. I was still observing patterns.

Captain Manchester led me back to the crew quarters. The other four women were still there. Kelsey was doing something with a small device, waving it over Ashley's body. Solace was being kissed all over by Constance — Solace was strapped to the dining table. Despite constant nudity and a bit of fatigue from my three hours of intensive training the tableau was arousing. My penis jutted out in front of me like a Pitot tube on old-fashioned atmospheric fighter aircraft.

Kelsey glanced my way.

"How are you feeling?" the med tech asked. "It's only been 48 hours. Still tired?"

I drew in a slow, shaky breath, let it out.

"Yes," I nodded. My head didn't hurt when I tilted it today. "I just need to get a routine established. I can function fatigued. It isn't fun, but I can do it."

"Are you glad to see me or is that a piss hard-on?" Ashley purred.

"I'm really glad to see you, Ashley," I replied. "You look better every time I see you."

"You're next," Kelsey told me as she patted Ashley's back. "She's fine. I want to scan you."

Sometimes I get muddled when pronouns are used instead of names — despite being the only male on board Lightning Bolt. I figured it out when Kelsey waved the device over me from head to waist and from left to right.

"You're still run down," Kelsey noted. "Take it easy for the next four days."

"We exit jump space in four days," Manny noted. "Will he be ready for full duty then?"

"I don't want Ashley to stand watches longer than four hours on," Kelsey said. "I'd prefer that she took a full eight off. Two watches a day — and I'd like to put Peter on the same schedule. How long for the refueling?"

The plan was to spend about 48 hours, if our jump was accurate. We'd exit jump space, locate and rendezvous with the comet, siphon off hydrogen or water and refine it, and then move out to a jump point and re-insert for our next hyperspace leg.

"Just like a man," Kelsey muttered. "Only room for one thought at a time. Your training session is over today. Have some fun!"

"Are you volunteering?" I asked.

"Cheek!"

"What about me?" Ashley huffed.

"At your service, madam!"

"Spreading yourself thin," Manny noted.

"I have but one life," I replied with a grin. I hope it was a grin and not a leer. I stepped closer to Ashley and suddenly I wilted. Not just my penis; I felt weak, my knees threatened to give way, and I lost a moment of time. Manny was holding me.

"Just run down," Kelsey announced. "He was in debrief too long. Naps, mister. You're going to take naps. Right now, we'll bed you down with Ashley and Manny."

I was worried, but to thick-tongued to say anything. Talking proved to be unnecessary. I reclined on a soft surface, a mat on the deck, and Ashley cuddled against one side.

"How long as he been up today?" Kelsey asked.