Chapter 1

I had just cleared customs from a commercial interplanetary flight, when the customs agent said, "Commander McLain? We have a message that as soon as you arrive on station, we're to send you straight to the Admiral's office. He wants to see you as soon as possible."

I knew when Admiral Kelly said as soon as possible, he meant NOW!

"Can you watch my bags?" I asked, hurrying off for the Admiral's office.

On my way there I was wondering what the hell I was trouble for, now? Admiral Kelly always seemed to 'have it in' for me and my crew.

"Commander McLain, Admiral Kelly will see you now," the Admiral's receptionist said.

As soon as I walked into the Admiral's office he turned to me and said, "I don't know who you know in the Emperor's Court, but when I requested a court marshal, I was told to stand down and post guards. You would handle it when you returned. By God, I want their asses for this!"

He proceeded to tell me of the charges against my crew in my absence.

"Now it can't be all that bad. First of all, that sailor had no business pinching Mike's ass. He's lucky she didn't rip off his arm, and feed it to him."

"Secondly, there's no proof that any of my crew stole anything, including those fembots. Now I know that Wiz is a little strange, but what the hell would he want with a fembot, let alone two of them? All he seems interested in are computers and AIs."

"And lastly, what were Mike and Adams arrested for? I didn't think that singing was a criminal offence ... though with their voices, maybe it should be. And as far as them powering up the ships weapons ... it's an Imperial Order that Strike Ships and their crews are off limits to base and system personnel. They even have authority to place this system under martial law, if they deem it is needed. They are subject only to others in their own chain of command, or the Emperor himself ... and you are not in that chain of command."

"No, but I am in charge of this sector, and this base! So I order you to relocate your ship and that meatball crew of yours to level Q, section 7, space dock 3. If I see any of your crew in the rest of this base, except on official business, I will have them shot. You will stay there 'till your ship rusts away. Any missions will be attended to by one of the other crews."

"But, Admiral, that's not fair. Besides, I'll appeal to the Emperor, personally."

"How? You need my permission to use any of the stations resources, and that includes communications!"

"OK. You win, for now. As you know, Lt. Johns requested and was granted a transfer. Is there a new Exec to take his place?"

"Yes He should be here in three days. I handpicked him, myself. He should fit right in."

Great! I could just imagine what kind of Exec the Admiral would pick.

As I went back to Customs to pick up my gear, I was pondering on what to do about all this trouble. My people were just blowing off some steam. If the station crew would just leave them alone, there wouldn't be as many problems. They had just come from a tough mission, where we could have been killed several times over. They had a real need to relax and unwind. It seemed like we got every dirty job that came around. I didn't know how they would react to being cast aside to stagnate on the quarantine deck.

"Welcome back, Skipper. How was your leave?" Sgt. Adams asked.

"KNOCK OFF THE BULLSHIT! I want every one of you assholes assembled here, in five minutes! Do I make myself clear?" I barked.

The next things I heard, was, "ALL HANDS ASSEMMBLE ON THE QUARTERDECK, ASAP." through the ship's intercom. Someone must have been monitoring my arrival.

After a few minutes of scrambling, everyone was assembled and trying to look innocent.

"OK, you eight balls, would someone please tell me what the hell is going on, here? I had no sooner stepped on the station, than I'm summoned to the Admiral's office for a royal ass chewing! Do I need to hire babysitters for you fuck-ups?"

"Look, skipper we were..."

"Save it for someone who doesn't know you!" I snapped back, "How long until we can leave this dock?"

"Do we have a mission, skipper? I have the starboard warp engine torn down, waiting on parts. The weapons computer has a major glitch in the software. Wiz thinks we need to reload and update the fire control system ... and we have three minor leaks that the seals need replacing on, on airlocks two and four.

"If you had all that to do to get the Loony ready, how did you find time to cause so much trouble?"

"Base said without an Exec. We wouldn't be going out until Lt. Johns was replaced, and we had the new XO up to speed."

"THAT'S BULLSHIT! How are we supposed to stay in combat readiness? Did you send out Scrounger?"

"We did. That's why we did the drunken singing. It was supposed to be a distraction. Then all the trouble started, and we were thrown in the station's brig, overnight."

"Did it work?"

"Sure! We got everything we needed, and then some."

"I suppose the 'and then some' means you robbed the station blind? Just why you stole two fembot's from the station hospital is beyond me?"