The Army Of Light (Kestrel Saga) (11 page)

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*           *

    
With the loading complete, the captain called both Trent and Melissa into an
impromptu meeting inside the hangar. He took the time to remind them that the
delivery shouldn’t take long, and that he wasn’t expecting the same type of
trouble that’d occurred at Jack’s Place. Melissa had scoffed at him, saying
something about it being his own fault in the first place, and that the captain
shouldn’t be associating with known pirates to begin with.

    
“Well, you won’t have to worry about it, because you’re both staying right
here.”

    
A broad smile indicated Trent seemed perfectly content with that bit of news.
Melissa’s expression was surprisingly blank.

    
“Keep an eye on her while I’m gone,” Shawn said to Trent as he tilted his head
towards Melissa,
then
turned to leave the hangar.

    
Trent looked to Melissa, who, unseen by Shawn, looked to the mechanic with
a devilish smile and a wink. He shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling inadequate
for the assigned task. “Oh… I think she can look after herself just fine,
Captain.”

    
Outside the hangar, just as Shawn neared the ship, an additional shadow cast
itself across the side of the waiting transport. He turned, not entirely
surprised to see Melissa Graves standing behind him. He glared at her,
presenting a strong look of disapproval, which only seemed to strengthen her
resolve. She attempted to walk past him, but a quick sidestep brought the
captain back into her path.

    
“I thought I just made it perfectly clear you were staying here.”

    
She stepped within whispering distance, and Shawn was amazed he could hear her
hushed voice so clearly over the din of the engines. “You did. Now I’m making
it perfectly clear that I’m going whether you like it or not. I’d hate to think
you’re out there gallivanting around when there’s real work to be done.”

    
He folded his arms in defense. “I never gallivant, nor do I roam, meander, or
wander.
Ever.
Remarkably, that’s also about as often
as I take nonpaying, unwanted passengers with me on my runs.”

    
“My fair share, Captain, got your engines running. As far as being unwanted, I
don’t really care. Now, either you let me pass, or I’ll make you. Either way,
I’m going.”

    
Her determination on this matter seemed undeniable. In truth, there was a part
of Shawn that feared what she might do if he continued to say no. 
Besides,
what harm could it really do?

    
“Fine.
You can come, but don’t touch anything… and
don’t get out of your seat. Follow those rules and everything will be just
dandy. Don’t do what I say and I’ll open the door for you personally at
two-thousand feet and show you out. Remember, no matter what you think or say,
I’m the Captain of the ship, and my decisions are final.” Something inside him,
however, told him that everything he’d just told her was, at some point, going
to be completely ignored.

    
Melissa nodded her head slowly in acceptance, and he didn’t believe a single
second of it. So why was he allowing this to go on? 

    
“Good,” he turned and slapped his palm against the hatch release. He moved away
from the opening and made a grand sweeping gesture with his arm. “Welcome
aboard 
Sylvia’s Delight
, and please watch your step.”

    
Melissa stepped into a roomy, lounge-like compartment and approached a seat
near the compartments only view port, which was situated on the starboard side
of the vessel. She lightly wiped the blue material off with her hand, seeing a
small cloud of dust erupt from the unused cushion. After a small sneezing fit,
Shawn stepped up and leaned over her shoulder.

    
“We haven’t seen many passengers lately,” he smiled, then walked toward the
cockpit.

    
Melissa resigned herself to a dirty bottom and reluctantly sat down.
Withdrawing a handkerchief from her purse, she dabbed at a spot of something
brown and sticky on the armrest. Having terminated the spot, she attached her
seatbelt and leaned back in the chair, the cushions squeaking under her
diminutive weight. After getting as comfortable as the furniture would allow,
she craned her head around the inside of the cramped vessel.

    
The compartment seemed to be invisibly bisected, with one half dedicated to
seating and the other side left uncluttered—save for a computer terminal and
storage locker on the bulkhead. The arrangement afforded a wide walkway between
the door to the control deck at one end and a closed hatch to Melissa’s left
that led aft. Directly in front of her was the back of an L-shaped couch that
wrapped around a small circular table and one additional chair. On the far side
of the cabin, to the right of the control room hatch,
was
a small wash basin and a set of lockers. Looking toward the open control deck
hatch, she watched as the captain flipped at switches, turned knobs, and
manipulated controls on various touch sensitive screens. There was also a
female voice emanating from the room, but it was too far away for an accurate
translation. The captain wore the unmistakable visage of concern.

    
“Mister Kestrel,” she asked, but received no reply. “Excuse me, Mister
Kestrel?” this time she elevated her voice. Still, there was no
acknowledgement.

    
The engines came online and the entire vessel began to shudder. Melissa
involuntarily gripped at the armrests, only then realizing that she hadn’t
completely eradicated the gooey brown substance for its surface. “Mister
Kestrel!” She was now yelling across the fifteen or so feet that separated the
two.

    
Shawn glowered at her over his shoulder. “What?”

    
“Are you sure we can takeoff? We’ve got a lot of cargo back there.”

    
Shawn turned and shifted his eyes to the hatch on Melissa right, peering with
implied x-ray vision into the cargo hold beyond. He could mentally see the
crates of weapons stacked evenly throughout the back of the ship, weighing in
at an average of two-hundred pounds each. He quickly did the math in his head
once more,
then
shouted back to Melissa. “We’ll be
fine. I do this all the time.”

    
She never felt like she’d made more of a mistake than she did at that moment.
“Why do I not believe you?”

    
He turned back to the control panel, slowly nodded and repeating silently to
himself
that things would indeed be fine.

    
Although he couldn’t see her, she’d crossed her arms and was looking at the
back of his head incredulously.

    
Shawn clicked on the transmitter, linking himself once again to Trent’s
receiver. Deciding that closing the cabin door would only alarm his passenger,
he attempted to speak low enough that she wouldn’t hear. “You checked the
weight of everything first, right?

    
“Of course.
Just like always. But, I’d still be a
little cautious on takeoff. You’re slightly over your max weight.”

    
“I was thinking the same thing.
By how much, exactly.”

    
There was an unnerving pause. “Oh, just a little more power on your ascent and
you’ll be fine.”

    
“You’re positive?”

    
There was a burst of static on the line before a response came back through.
“Sorry, Captain, you’re breaking up.
Must be a faulty
transmitter.
I’m going to have to sign off and fix this thing. See you
when you get back.”

    
Shawn swore that Trent was blowing air into the microphone. The captain looked
out of the window and saw Trent waving a hearty good bye. Shawn extended his
middle finger up to the view port,
then
rotated his
chair back to the controls, satisfied that he’d gotten in the last word.
Reaching up with his left hand, he gradually pushed the igniter lever. The two
impellors at the aft end of the ship began to spin faster and faster, their
soft blue glow turning brighter with each revolution. The Mark-IV started to
vibrate sluggishly with the rhythmic pulsations caused by the engines.

    
“A little more power,” Shawn said to himself. “Okay, if you say so.” He quickly
moved the throttles to their mid-position.

    
The sudden acceleration caused Melissa to be pulled into the back of her seat
as 
Sylvia’s Delight
 launched away from the pad. If she gripped
the hand rests any tighter she was sure they would be crushed. She looked out
of the small view port and saw ocean spray pelting the side of the craft as the
ship hovered only a few feet from the surface of the water. An image of being
eaten alive by a Minosian Goliath flashed across her mind. Her eyes darted to
the cockpit, and she watched as Shawn pulled back forcefully on the control
stick. For a split-second she felt the vessel glide upwards, but then it
slapped against the surface of the water and skipped off like a stone on a
pond. Something was definitely wrong.

    
With the internal stabilizers kicking in, she was finally able to lean forward
in her seat. “Mister Kestrel! I would very much like to take off
now!”

    
Shawn didn’t look back; he simply pulled as hard as he could on the control
stick.
“Yeah lady?
Me too!”
He pealed one hand away from the stick and slid the throttle control to full
forward.

    
Sylvia’s Delight
 dashed into the air, as if the tension on a coiled
spring had suddenly been released. Melissa could feel the sinking of her
stomach as gravity tried to pull the ship—and her innards—back down. The
vessel’s shaking had lessened while the whine of the engines had gotten louder.
Melissa again looked out the window and saw the ocean and the island chain falling
slowly behind them. She turned to face the cockpit and was greeted with the
captain’s cheerful face smiling directly at her.

    
She released her grip on the sticky armrest and wiped her hands with a moist
napkin. “I hope you end this flight better than it’s begun.”

    
Beaming, he swiveled back to the forward view port just as the azure sky slowly
gave way to the unveiled stars beyond. Content to finally be back out amongst
the heavens, Shawn sighed lightly as he sank a little deeper into the immensely
comfortable pilot’s seat.

    
The soothing vibrations produced by the ships engines, coupled with the steady
stream of pinpoint stars floating past the view port, threatened to put Melissa
into a deep slumber if she stared at them much longer. As her eyelids became
heavy, her thoughts drifted back to cherished memories of her father. She
thought of her childhood, and the precious few moments she felt they’d spent
together because of his military obligations. After all, there had been a war
going on, and she’d tried desperately not to blame him for having to go off and
fight.

    
Of course, Sector Command did it’s best to keep families close to one another
when they could. She remembered having to move from one planet to the next, from
base to orbital station and back, changing her life in an instant. At first
she’d gain friends, only to lose them when her father’s current rotation was
up. After a few years, she stopped trying to form strong bonds with anyone. It
was just easier that way.

    
Melissa’s teenage years had been the hardest time for her, but she’d remained
strong for her father’s sake. She’d promised herself from a young age that she
would never disappoint such a great man. She stuck to her studies through three
different high
schools,
finally graduating with honors
just before William changed posts once again—this time to the frontlines.

    
She thought back to the last time they were together on
Thress
.
The newly appointed admiral had taken two days leave from his post to meet in
their home city of New Wendell just over a year ago. They’d dined together that
evening, and he’d told her that he loved her, and that he was very proud of her
accomplishments. He spoke of going away on a special mission for Sector
Command, and that he wasn’t sure if he’d be back anytime soon. They’d exchanged
the typical father-daughter formalities she’d become so accustomed to, a
sometimes heart wrenching routine she secretly feared would never be broken.
Then he was gone.

    
Melissa reached into her satchel and withdrew the final letter her father had
sent. She didn’t need to read it again, having committed
it’s
entirety to memory. Instead, she regarded the envelope for the tenth time. It
was white, unassuming, sent with no return address. Sighing, she stared at the
colorful postmark and tried to make sense of a puzzle that was missing half its
pieces.

    
“
Felda
City, Corvan,” she read aloud. Corvan was
little more than a backwater research outpost—a far cry from the impressive
research station it had once been. It was situated well beyond UCS sanctioned
space, lying near the far edge of the former Outer Sphere in a desolate region
once called ‘the frontier’. Its proximity to Kafaran space had driven away
nearly every reputable scientist that had once studied there. She examined the
envelope a few seconds more,
then
placed it back into
the satchel. Melissa eyed the cockpit and, assuming the captain was preoccupied
with the ships operation, decided to take a closer look without asking permission.

    
Melissa walked up to the half dozen steps leading to the cockpit and positioned
herself behind Shawn’s seat. She peered over his shoulder, giving the cluttered
instrument panel a quick study in the process. It wasn’t much different than
any other ship she’d been in before. The black paint, applied at the
Hypervarion
factory decades ago, had peeled in several
places, revealing the silvery metal alloy beneath. There were a few holes in
the panel, indicating gauges had been removed and were not yet reinstalled.
Melissa hoped they weren’t for measuring anything important. She looked to the
co-pilots seat to the captain’s right, noticing that the green canvas cover had
been hastily sewn together in several places. She placed her hand on the back
of the pilots chair and leaned in for a closer look at the navigation chart,
stopping when she suddenly heard the distinct high-pitch whine of a blasters
safety switch being cycled off.