Central Medical Centre, Katadromiko 2, orbiting Berge, Berge system
The noises were quiet, rhythmic and emphatically soothing. Like waves gently lapping outside your beach hut during an afternoon siesta. He felt cocooned in warmth, safe, without a care and wanted this tranquil sensation to last forever. Then a sudden sharp sound irked him and he tried to ignore it.
‘Lieutenant.’
It came again.
‘Lieutenant, wake up.’
‘Go away—I’m busy,’ he mumbled.
‘LIEUTENANT.’
He snapped his eyes open and wished he hadn’t as bright lights assaulted his retinas. Squinting, he could make out a blurry face above him and a white ceiling beyond.
‘Lieutenant Loftt, you have visitors,’ the indistinct face insisted.
After a moment of confusion about recognising that was indeed his name and what in the ancients was going on, he croaked a reply.
‘Where am I?’
‘The K2 medical centre, sir—you’ve been knocked about a bit.’
He focused his vision to discover a pair of rather attractive eyes above a medical mask blinking back at him.
‘Hello,’ he said, attempting to sit up, that did nothing but send a mountain of pain through his entire body.
‘No, no,’ she said, resting her hands on his shoulders. ‘The doctor wants you to stay still for a few hours to let the bones fuse.’
Bache glanced down to find beams of red light encompassing his body and realised why he felt so warm.
‘You have an important visitor,’ she continued, nodding and glancing towards the private room’s door.
Bache turned his head to the left to find three concerned faces staring back from outside the room.
‘Mr President, Captain, Clunk,’ he said, beckoning them into the room with his right hand as his left seemed to be strapped to his side.
Xutan led the way and smiled as he approached.
‘Glad to see you’re on the mend, Lieutenant,’ he said. ‘I’m led to understand you’ve had a busy day.’
‘So it seems, sir,’ Bache replied, racking his brains to remember what had happened. He opened his eyes wide at one particular recollection as the events of the last few hours came back.
‘FLAST,’ he blurted loudly, then wincing with a sudden pain across his chest.
‘Beg your pardon?’ said Whipper.
‘It was Ystolion Flast,’ he continued, a little less enthusiastically this time.
‘What was?’ asked Xutan.
‘Everything.’
‘Have you had a knock to the head as well, Loftt?’ said Whipper.
‘No, sir—she was there on the battleship—her husband bankrolled the whole thing from the beginning and she continued it after his death. It was all for mining rights on Dresse and the Gata worlds once the grey Nkris had Berge and then ruled the region with the fleet of battleships.’
‘That fucking woman again,’ said Xutan. ‘Is she dead now?’
‘I don’t think so, sir,’ said Bache. ‘She jumped away from inside the hangar shortly before the battleship was hit.’
Xutan gave the captain a glance, remembering their earlier conversation about jump signatures.
‘I always had my doubts about Desulet,’ he said. ‘He always said the greyness in his coat was just down to age and stress from the job.’
‘What about the admiral, Candor Henns?’ Whipper asked.
‘You’ll be shocked to hear, Henns was sponsored for the job by Desulet and unsurprisingly his wife too,’ said Xutan.
‘Is he going to be prosecuted for his part in this?’ asked Bache. ‘He was attempting to have the captain and me locked up.’
‘If we can find him,’ said the President.
‘It seems he’s gone missing too, Lieutenant,’ said Whipper.
‘So, we’re off the hook then?’ said Bache, hopefully.
‘Absolutely, young Loftt,’ said Xutan. ‘Which reminds me, the admiral of the fleet position is currently vacant.’ He turned, raising his eyebrows at Whipper.
‘Ah—don’t look at me, Mr President,’ said the captain, putting his hands up in surrender. ‘I’m a ship’s captain, not a politician.’
‘That’s disappointing,’ said Xutan. ‘Personally, I think you’d be very good. Never say never, perhaps one day.’
Whipper smiled and turned back to the patient.
‘Talking of positions vacant,’ he said, staring at Bache. ‘When this ship’s repaired, I’m going to need a new chief engineer.’
‘You want me to recommend someone?’ Bache asked, seemingly surprised.
‘No, Chief Engineer Loftt, I want you to accept the position.’
Bache’s eyes widened.
‘Really?’
‘I’d be honoured,’ said the captain.
‘So would I,’ said the President. ‘And well-earned too.’
‘Oh, shit,’ mumbled Bache, pulling a face of horror.
‘Something wrong with that?’ Whipper asked.
‘My father’ll kill me,’ he said. ‘It took him twenty years to reach that position.’
‘Knowing Tirexion, he’ll be as proud as punch,’ said Xutan.
‘You know my father?’ Bache asked, seemingly surprised.
‘I make it my business to know who the smart and trusted people are within our organisation, Bache— your father is certainly one of them.’
Bache smiled at the President and turned to face his captain, his expression becoming a little more serious.
‘I accept the position, Captain, thank you,’ he said. ‘I won’t let you down.’
‘Bloody right you won’t,’ Whipper said, nodding towards the President. ‘You’ve made that vow in front of a very substantial witness.’
‘Good, right,’ said the President, chuckling. ‘I think I have some politicking to take care of on Dasos.’ He turned for the door, stopped and turned to Whipper. ‘Look after that young man and if you change your mind about the job in the big chair over the next couple of cycles, let me know.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Whipper, watching the President as he left the room to rejoin his security detail for the trip back to the hangar. Turning back to face Bache he spoke again.
‘Have you had a falling out with Mye?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Bache. ‘She wasn’t very happy about Clunk coming with me to Dresse, I know that much.’
‘Hmm,’ grunted Whipper. ‘She’s asked for a transfer to another ship.’
‘Oh,’ was all Bache could think of to say, as a sick feeling washed through his stomach.’
‘You know I can’t really stop her if she’s bent on going?’
‘Yes, sir, I know that.’
The conversation stalled for a second or two before the captain spoke again.
‘You do realise the chief position is a lot more hands-off, Loftt? No more fun crashing around the galaxy in gunships.’
‘After the last few days, sir, I’m kinda glad,’ Bache replied.
‘What about me, Captain?’ asked Clunk, looking hopeful.
‘Well, I’m sure the engineering department will need a duty pilot,’ said Whipper, raising his eyebrows at Bache.
‘So long as you practise your landings,’ Bache said, with a smirk. ‘I don’t want to be repairing bent struts every day.’
‘Deal,’ said Clunk, grinning from ear to ear.