Ion Trail 20: Taking Names

The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of activity. We finally got the cargo release and between arranging delivery of our goods, arranging repairs and following up on some of the upgrades I was looking into, Shanna stayed busy. Honestly I stood back and watched for the most part, putting most of the crew at her disposal while she made deals and negotiated bids with various contractors. It was very soon obvious that her talents had been wasted as a sales clerk and I soon began to worry that one of the merchants she was dealing with would try to steal her away from me. I got final approval on everything, of course, but she knew our budget better than I did, so when she made recommendations I usually followed them. As the bids were approved, I watched my ship slowly transform from the scorched wreck it had been when we arrived in Terra Primus into something almost entirely new.

The modular design of the GS-1592s made a lot of the work quicker and cheaper than it might have been, but in the end, we ended up with very little in the coffers, after food and refueling were factored in; we would definitely need another job or few before we left Terra Primus. Luckily, Shanna was able to recoup about forty percent of our fees for the Percyval’s Rest delivery, when I’d been expecting to eat the cost.

The repairs and upgrades weren’t the primary drain on my time and energy, however. After the TU eggheads had dug into the datastick and the other assets we’d brought in, I found myself much in demand for follow-up questioning. After the original few days of frustrated waiting, I was instead dealing with hours of constant questions every day, often having to bring along Clinton, Omar or Harper to answer the more esoteric questions. My favorite, of course, was the third round of questioning about the self-destruct; I wasn’t the only person who found that particular part of the story hard to swallow, but having been there when it happened, I was growing tired of having my word questioned.

“Look,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “I’ve been here for two hours, and this is the third time I’ve had to answer questions on this. Clinton’s provided the sensor logs as well.” I stared at the man who was probably my least favorite person in the galaxy right now, and spoke slowly enough that the intended insult was plain. “We did not blow up the ship. We did not do sufficient damage, either. All we did was crash a damned mining drone into it.”

“It just spontaneously blew up, on its own?” Those watery blue eyes never wavered; I really wanted to put my fist between them. “Why would it do that?”

“The fuck if I know,” I growled. “You probably literally know more than I do, with your big brain able to analyze the sensor logs. Maybe the ship was rigged to the pilot’s vital signals. Maybe there was someone else aboard who was tired of kicking around the galaxy attacking people. I. Do. Not. Fucking. Know.”

“I see. Thank you, Captain Rickard.” He tapped at his datapad, completely unfazed by my evident hostility. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Fantastic,” I grumbled and stalked out of the room. I felt like I figured Janice must feel all the time and if I didn’t get off this station soon, I was going to be arrested for assault. I strode through the bland white corridors wrapped in my own little storm cloud until I heard my name.

“Susan!” I turned around, and Shanna was pushing through the crowd toward me. I blinked a few times, because I’d honestly not even noticed when I’d gone from the sterile, empty hallways of the DET facility into the commons, surrounded by people. That never happened; I was pretty much always hyper-conscious of people around me, but I guess I was irritated enough that I had tuned it out.

“Hey, finally,” she said as she caught up to where I stood. The flowing crowd split around us, and I noticed a few irritated looks. “I kept calling you, but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I apologized. “Those DET fuckers always put me in the worst mood.” I started to move with the crowd, but matched my pace to Shanna’s instead of my usual hurried walk.

“Yeah, sounds like it,” she said sympathetically. “Just wanted to tell you that we got the final bid for the drones you wanted, when you’re ready to look it over.”

“Okay, I’ll look at it when we get back to the ship,” I agreed. “Care to bottom-line it for me, though?”

“I can do that,” she replied. “So, the two general purpose drones are fine, exactly what I was asking for in terms of cost of cost and utility. The defensive drone is going to be a bit pricier than I’d like, kinda pushing the budget.”

“Mmph,” I mumbled. “Does it meet the specs I was asking for?”

“Oh, and then some. It’s a great drone and I’d want to keep channels open for down the line when we’re back in the black. It’s just a lot of credits right now.” I thought about it for a minute, letting Shanna lead the way, then shook my head.

“I really want that drone,” I told her seriously. “I’ll ask Omar if he thinks we can get by with just the one general purpose drone, and decide from there.”

“I think I could make that work,” she said, tapping her lip thoughtfully. “Yeah, that should be doable. Let me know.” I grunted, and looked up, wondering why it was taking so long to get back to the ship. I slowed my steps, looking around and realizing that we weren’t anywhere near the star docks.

“Uh, where are we?” I asked. Shanna looked around, then looked at me.

“Oh, were you trying to get back to the ship?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I just followed you while we talked.”

“My fault, then,” she said. “I usually come to the bar here on the concourse to go over figures. I find a drink and some music can help me think a bit better.” She shrugged apologetically.

“Ehh,” I grumped. “Guess that’s what I get.”

“You want to join me?” Shanna asked, squaring up to look at me directly. “A drink might do you some good too, after dealing with those assholes.” I looked up at her and considered her invitation. She gave me a small smile that made me smile back despite my irritation. She really was a very pretty girl.

“You know what?” I replied, “Why the fuck not? I guess I could go for a drink.” Her smile broadened and she reached out and took my hand, pulling me toward one side of the concourse.

“Great,” she bubbled over her shoulder as we pushed through the crowd. “I think you’ll like this place; casual, not a lot of TU, great music.” In just a few minutes, we were there, and she wasn’t wrong; for early afternoon it wasn’t too crowded, and the music was a mix of pop and catchy dance tunes. I ordered whatever the drink special was, and sat down across the table from Shanna.

“So if you don’t mind me asking,” she started as she sat down, some sort of fruity blue thing in hand, “what’s with you and the TU? It seems pretty clear you’re not a fan.”

“Uhhh, it’s… Well, no it’s not really complicated,” I said. “I grew up in a can colony. Most aren’t overly fond of the TU, just in general.”

“Oh wow, a can colony?” she exclaimed. “I’ve always wondered what that would be like.”

“Crowded,” I answered. ”Really crowded. A lot like stations, but much bigger, even more overpopulated and a lot less trendy.” I took a drink, remembering. “I don’t recommend it to anyone.”

“So you dislike the TU because of that?”

“Not entirely, but that’s the foundation. They’re just a really big bureaucracy that cares less about people and more about control. I mean, I had to dump a body on the floor to get anything done. We might still be sitting on our hands waiting if I’d played things straight.”

“I guess I can understand that,” Shanna said. “My little brother did a tour with the TU, and he said it was a lot of bullshit, but overall he enjoyed his time.”

“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’re a lot of good people in the TU. It’s just too big, you know? Individuals just get swallowed up.” I took another good swig of my drink, which was some sort of lager, dark, thick and strong. “So you’ve got a brother?”

“Yeah, just the one, and a sister who’s like, ten years older than me.”

“I have three brothers and a sister,” I replied, wondering where they were now. When I left, none of them except the youngest seemed inclined to leave the colony. Probably they were all still there, floating along. I wondered how this war would affect them.

“Wow, that’s a lot,” she replied after she’d drained her drink and signaled for another.

“Honestly, we were smaller than most. It’s a thing with can colonies,” I explained. “A lot of big families. S’why they’re always so crowded, even though they’re easily the biggest things floating around in space.” Thinking about home was actually starting to depress me, so I changed the subject. “So what’s left on the agenda? I thought the drones were the last budget approval you had for me.”

“Oh, they are,” she confirmed. “Now I’ve got to sort out the other half of the ledger: income. We’ve got a bunch of offers that I need to look through and decide what seems worthwhile. I’ll also need to compile a report for Diaz, so he can tell me what we can even transport.”

“Then I get the results after that, with your recommendations?” I was a little embarrassed that I wasn’t clearer on the process, but until recently there’d been a lot more on my mind. Now was as good a time as any to rectify that.

“Pretty much. I weed out anything that’s just straight up bad or not feasible, then rank them based on what I think are our best options.”

“You seem really good at this,” I commented, and she smiled at me over her drink.

“You know what? I really am,” she replied with a mixture of pleasure and surprise. “And I enjoy it, too. So much more involved than direct sales and inventory.”

“Well, I may have said it before, but I feel really lucky to have you.” I reached over to put my hand on hers. She blushed and took a big pull of her drink, but she must have swallowed it wrong, because she was suddenly coughing and spluttering, and red in the face for a different reason.

“Sorry,” she gasped once she’d caught her breath. “I’m sure that was super attractive.”

“Oh, totally,” I laughed, but pulled my hand back. I suddenly found myself remembering when Clinton, Sister Estrada and I had sat down for drinks, and didn’t want a repeat performance. I finished my drink while she blotted her eyes with a napkin. “I’m going to go ahead and head back to the ship,” I told her. “I really appreciate the drink and a chance to unwind a bit.”

“Aww,” she complained, feigning a look of hurt. “Alright, Captain. I’ll see you back there for dinner.”

=+=

It was a week later that I was called back to see the Station Commandant. Admiral Clarke had checked in on us once or twice since our first meeting, but this was the first time I’d seen him face-to-face since then. The ship was nearing completion, and I was ready to leave Terra Primus behind.

“What are your plans from here, if you don’t mind my asking?” This time he was sitting behind his desk with a glass of scotch, and I was seated in front of it. I’d declined the drink, but I was a lot more comfortable than the last time I’d been there. The distinct lack of armed marines probably had something to do with that.

“Short term, I’m just going to push some cargo around,” I said. “After that, I don’t know.”

“Are you considering going back to work for Grey Dwarf?” he asked casually and I froze. He chuckled when he saw my reaction. “You didn’t expect me to do my research?”

“Uh, let’s just say I was hoping you were too busy.”

“It’s not a problem. Grey Dwarf has already filed the insurance claim on your ship, and I thought that clearing up your ‘presumed deceased’ status would be the decent thing to do, under the circumstances. With a little paperwork, you could be free-and-clear.”

“What’s the catch?” I asked, very tense now in the comfortable chair.

“No catch,” he said. “Call it a finder’s fee, for the intel and assets you delivered. The DET Chief tells me you’ve been very, ah, cooperative, and that the algorithm seems solid. It’s likely to be quite valuable in the coming weeks and months.” The delicate wording regarding the DET made me bust out an unexpected laugh, and I finally relaxed into my seat.

“Shit,” I said, slowly drawing the word out. “So my ship will be mine, for real?”

“Legally and above-board,” he said with a grin, reaching for the decanter of scotch.

“You know, I think that’s worth a drink after all,” I told him, then stood up to pour for both him and myself. Once filled, he held out his glass, so I reached forward to tap mine against it.

“To independence?” he said slyly.

“It’s almost like you know me,” I said and took a good swig, feeling the burn go all the way down to my belly, leaving me feeling warm.

“Like I said, I did my research.” He took a more moderate sip, and leaned back in his chair. “Captain, I think we both know that you’re unlikely to go back to the life of a space trucker, at least not entirely.” I made myself take a casual sip, trying not to give anything away, and waited him out. He acknowledged my play with another small smile before continuing. “I doubt I could get you to join up, but I’d like to at least give you a little direction and support on your efforts.”

“Yeah?” Stoic, that’s me.

“Yes,” he leaned forward again, his sharp eyes earnest. “You know as well as I do that the Terran Union is a big beast, slow to react. I’ve learned how to work within it and I’ve gained enough clout to flaunt the rules from time to time, when I need to. I’m a former grunt myself, cut my teeth on piracy patrols and ‘peacekeeping’ operations. I’m itching to close with these black ships, but I also know that it’s never going to happen. I’m too entrenched here. But you and your crew aren’t quite so restrained.”

“I’d prefer to keep it that way,” I told him. I knew he was trying to bait me into asking, because that would give him a strategic advantage, but I wasn’t biting.

“So would I,” he agreed. “I want you and your crew to fly between the stars, taking whatever jobs you want. But if I could encourage you to want jobs that will take you to specific places from time to time, and have you pass on anything interesting you happen to find on your travels, well, that would be beneficial to both of us.”

“And if I didn’t see fit to take your guidance? What then?”

“Nothing,” he said, leaning back in his seat again. “You’re free to go about your business, once the paperwork has been completed to make everything right and legal.” The Admiral sighed and set his glass down on the desk. “Captain Rickard, I’m not trying to blackmail or coerce you. You’ve already provided an immeasurable service to the Union, and if you decided to wash your hands of the matter, I wouldn’t blame you. But I don’t think you will, so I’d like it if we could help each other out.”

“I’d need to talk to my crew,” I temporized, hoping to delay the decision a bit longer. I didn’t trust the TU one bit, but Admiral Clarke seemed like an upstanding sort, and his backing would be valuable. Not to mention the thought of being able to walk upright without wondering when my debts would catch up with me was making me feel more charitable than I otherwise might be.

“Of course,” he replied, rising. “I wouldn’t expect you to make a snap judgment on this. Or if you did, that such a judgment would be in my favor,” he added with a politician’s smile. Sensing that with the offer made our meeting was at an end, I rose as well and let him walk me to the door.

The walk back to the ship was an interesting one. The Admiral had dropped some bombs on me, and while I think I’d handled myself pretty well, it was going to take some time to get used to the idea. My own ship, free and clear. No more debt to Grey Dwarf, just me, my ship and my crew, doing whatever we wanted to do. If Admiral Clarke was to be believed that was mine regardless of what decision I made from here and I had a feeling he would be true to his word. I still cringed a bit when I considered what ‘a little paperwork’ would entail, but I could have skipped the whole way back to the ship I was so happy.

I knew what needed to be done. The most important decision that would need to be made, immediately, before worrying about whether or not we’d take the Admiral up on his offer, or even where we were bound for next; now that the ship was mine, for real, there was only one thing to do.

My ship needed a name.