Ion Trail 3: The Captain

“Ow!” I groaned, throwing one arm up to cover my eyes. I knew better than that, and Mr. Dudek, my flight instructor, would have stripped my hide raw for such a rookie mistake. I shaded my eyes and squinted down at the control console, trying to locate the right button. When I did, I mashed my thumb down on it harder than necessary, and the forward screen went black, leaving me to blink stupidly until my eyes had adjusted to the sudden darkness.

Only once I could see again and I’d made a couple habitual status checks did it finally dawn on me that we were alive. I hadn’t been so certain we would be, only a few minutes earlier. I keyed the intercom, and fought to keep the nerves out of my voice as I announced to the passengers that we were in hyperspace, en route to Proxima Tau.

“Diaz,” I added, “Come on up to the cockpit. We need to talk.”

When he arrived, I was busy double-checking things I knew were fine. My first long trip, bringing the ship here from the shipyard, had been leisurely, but with what had just happened, and knowing I had a dozen people hanging out in my cargo bay, I simply couldn’t relax. It was almost a relief when I heard Diaz push the door open, until he spoke.

“Rick’,” he began, “I’m he-“

“Don’t call me that!” I rounded on him with a snarl. “My name is Rickard, not Rick. Hell, since we’re going to be on this ship together for a while, you can even call me by my first name, but do not call me Rick. You got it?” He’d backed up to the wall, hands raised defensively at my tirade.

“Okay, okay, Sue it is,” he said placatingly.

“Su-san,” I said flatly, with a strong emphasis on the second syllable. “Not Sue, not Rick; Susan. Rickard. That’s it.”

“Susan,” he agreed, hands raised again. “Got it, Susan.” When he realized I wasn’t going to bite him, he stepped forward a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. I almost felt bad for biting his head off; It’s not like anyone was having the easiest day, but I didn’t bother to apologize. I might grind my teeth at the stupid nicknames when we were going to see each other for a couple hours at most, but if we were going to be on the ship together, I had to nip that in the bud. “So…” He trailed off.

“Yeah,” I said, not really knowing where to begin. I was trained as a pilot, and I’d done well in my certifications, but now I had to make decisions that would affect the lives of a dozen strangers, and that was not something I was prepared for. “Um, the red-head?” I said awkwardly.

“Oh, she’s fine,” he replied, then winced. “No, she’s not fine, she’s bad. I’ve got her in one of the cabins, and one of the others was a medic. She’s in there with her now.” I sighed, not having expected much else. She’d hit the ramp hard, and the only thing you could say is that it was better than having missed it entirely. Unbidden, the distorted faces of the people I’d seen while undocking came to mind, and I felt my stomach give a little heave. I looked up to see Diaz watching me quietly. “So, uh,” he paused, then swallowed hard before continuing. “So, what happened? Was it…?”

“The station was under attack,” I said, confirming what he’d been unable to ask. “I don’t know who. I’ve never seen anything like it in my studies.” His eyes grew larger, the soft brown color vibrant in the cabin lights.

“Do you think it was-“ he began.

“I told you I don’t-“ I started to cut him off.

“-Aliens??” he finished, and I stopped dead, just staring at him. Aliens. Jesus. Did I think it was Aliens? I mulled the thought for a half second before the absurdity of it overwhelmed me. Fucking Aliens.

“Don’t be stupid,” I replied. “I don’t know who it was, but humanity has been in the stars for over two-hundred years. If there were alien life- sentient alien life- we would have discovered it well before now.” I sighed, and pressed the bridge of my nose between my knuckle and thumb, feeling the makings of a monstrous headache looming. I looked up again, noting the slightly hurt expression on his face before I spoke again. “Look, whoever it was, we only barely escaped, okay? I didn’t say anything, but we were seconds, maybe less, away from becoming stardust all over again. I don’t know if anyone needs to know that,” I said quickly, seeing the look of horror on his face, “I don’t know that you needed to know that either, but for now, let’s just keep that bit of fun trivia to ourselves.” He nodded quickly. “We need to figure out some sort of longer-term accommodations for these people, see to any additional injuries, and figure out food. I wasn’t prepared for a trip with a dozen other people, and we’ve got a week until we’re due in Proxima Tau.”

“What are we going to do?” he said, the horror from before fading into something more like dread. I realized that my instinct to talk to Diaz wasn’t really a good one. He was a good guy, only a few years younger than me, but his years as a stevedore hadn’t made him especially smart or resourceful. I guess it’s good that you’ve got your looks, I thought to myself. Another sigh and I pulled myself to my feet, with one more glance at the instrument panel. We were in hyperspace, so there wasn’t a lot to do right now. It’d keep.

“Take me to see the injured girl,” I said. I didn’t know what we were going to do either, but some part of me realized that the last thing I wanted to do was show it. While all I’d wanted to do was pilot a ship through the lonely emptiness of space, it seemed that I would have to be the captain for these people, at least until we got to Proxima Tau. Diaz led me through the ship to the small cluster of passenger cabins, and stopped right in front of my door. Oh, damn it, I thought. He tapped quietly at the door, and then pushed in.

The small cabin was more crowded than I expected. Once Diaz and I entered, there were five of us. The injured girl lay on my bed, unconscious, with her shipsuit zipped down in the front, revealing her modest chest in a cute lacy bra, and a considerably less attractive mass of bruising from her ribcage down to the low-slung line of her matching underwear. My first thought was less than charitable. The only woman I wanted in my bed right now was me. But the point was moot now. She was there, and I wasn’t going to make her move simply out of selfishness. Near the bed sat an older woman in an unmarked shipsuit, with a heavy first aid kit laid open on her lap. She looked up when I walked in, and her light blue eyes betrayed worry for just a second before it disappeared behind a mask of professionalism. Behind her stood another man with his arms crossed tightly in front of him. He was maybe my age, and every line of his body radiated the worry that the medic hid so well.

“Hey,” I started. Uh oh, here comes Captain Confidence again, I thought. I tried again. “How is she?”

“I’ve given her a mild sedative,” said the medic, closing the medkit and setting it on the foot of the bed before rising to greet me. “But she’s not doing well. At least a couple fractured ribs, likely some internal damage too.” She smiled wryly. “If I’d have known, when I left the clinic, that we’d be dealing with a station-wide emergency and unexpected departure, I’d have grabbed my other bag, but I can’t diagnose her properly with your ship’s kit.” I must have looked mildly offended because her hands came up in a deprecating fashion, and she said, “It’s a perfectly adequate kit for dealing with a variety of wounds, but diagnosis of internal damage is beyond its scope.”

“Understood,” I replied with a nod. When in doubt, terseness can be substituted for confidence. “Were there any other injuries?”

“Minor contusions and a broken arm,” she replied. “I set the arm, and one of the other passengers is looking at the minor scrapes and bruises. What we’ve got here is more than adequate for those.” She looked down at the auburn-haired woman again, and a ghost of concern passed across her face. “Ms. Brennan is another case, however.” Learning the young woman’s name made me remember my courtesies, and I reached out a hand.

“I’m Susan Rickard. I’m the Captain,” I said, but that felt wrong. “The pilot. Er, the, yeah.” I stammered and finally stopped talking, before I made it worse. So much for confidence. The medic smiled, and took my proffered hand.

“Lorna Harper,” she replied. “Medic. Captain seems accurate, under the circumstances. I have a feeling that all of us owe you our lives.” I blanched; because of course what she said was true. Had I followed my initial instincts, I would be responsible for all of these people’s deaths, but being responsible for their lives wasn’t much better. I glanced over at the other man, who’d been observing this exchange quietly. When he saw me look at him, he took a step forward, his arms coming uncrossed, and I immediately panicked.

“Very good,” I heard myself say, like a complete tool. I nodded abruptly, and spun on my heel, nearly running into Diaz in my urgent need to get out of that room. Damnit, that was my room! I stepped through the door, and he followed, barely getting through before I closed it on him. I rounded on him, ready to yell at him for putting her in my room, after I’d specifically said not to, but when I saw him flinch, the anger melted away, and I sighed again. I had a feeling I’d be doing a lot of that over the next week. “Do me a favor?” He nodded quickly. “When you get a chance, move my clothes out of there into another room.” I turned away from the door, toward the cockpit, and I heard him shuffling his feet. Then I turned back.

“Julio, isn’t it?” I said, feeling the need to say some things I didn’t really want to say. He nodded again, and I kept talking. “Listen, I didn’t ask for any of this. None of us did, I guess. But I made a choice, and I’ve got to live with it, and so do you.” I gestured, somehow indicating the closed door and the cargo bay all at once. “I don’t know any of these people. We’re damned lucky we have a medic, and one who knows what she’s doing, but I don’t know her, either. I know you better than anyone else here, so I’m going to have to trust you. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” he said haltingly. I doubted he did, but I wasn’t really sure I was so certain of what I was asking him either.

“I need someone I can count on. If I’m going to have to be the Captain, I’m going to need a, uh, a First Mate. Someone who can make sure things happen. Right now, that’s you. You with me?” Instead of nodding right away he paused, considering. My estimation of him went up a notch. It was a big responsibility, and if I had stepped into mine without thinking, it was best that he at least considered it first. I didn’t have a lot of options, anyway, but when he finally met my eyes and nodded again, much more seriously, I felt a wave of relief wash through me. “Good to hear it,” I said. “I need you to figure out what to do with the rest of the passengers. Try not to bust into the cargo, but if there’s something we need in there, just do it. I hope Mr. Dion-“ I grimaced, realizing that the amiable merchant was likely dead, “Er, his associates, will forgive us under the circumstances.”

“Got it,” he said, giving me the ghost of a smile as he turned to go back to the cargo bay. I waited until he was nearly to the door before I called him back.

“Hey, Diaz?” I called, hiding the small smile I felt. He paused, turning back to look at me with a quizzical look on his face.

“No more talk of Aliens, okay?”