Retribution Snippet 2

I skipped ahead a bit;

Chapter 2

PO Blake Hale grinned as he saw the image of the planet on the view screens. The skipper had assented to putting it up where everyone could see it. It was a blue pearl, precious to them even if it had a hint and air of danger about her that belied a planet's normal innocence.

"Nightingale. A prettier planet I haven't seen me in a looong time," he drawled.

"We've been away for years but don't expect much to have changed. These hicks can't find their ass with their elbows."

"I don't care. I just want a fresh steak, bake potato, and a woman who can pretend to be loving for a whole evening," Blake drawled.

"Well look at you, a whole evening? You wouldn't last five minutes," Oswald said.

Blake scowled. "Wanna bet?"

"With what? Skipper is taking all our creds to get food and fuel so we can get on to the next stop."

"Frack," Blake muttered. His vision of liberty was rapidly fading.

"There goes your lady friend. Don't worry, I've got a good pic and you can always use your five fingers like you've been doin," Oswald tormented.

Blake held up his hand then dropped all but 1 telling finger in return. Oswald smirked back at him insufferably.

"We've got a healthy reserve even with the skipper skimping and saving with us on ballistic. Just getting the stink out of the air would be nice for a change," Oswald said.

"Fat chance on that. I know Bruno's trying but no way can he get the fish smell out. We're stuck with it until we get home."

"Joy," Oswald muttered. He tapped at his controls then frowned. "Hey, something odd here," he said.

"Odd?"

"As in out of place. There is an IFF orbiting the gas giant. Two of them. I just picked them up." Oswald wrinkled his nose. "It's too far to get a reading with our sensors though."

"Ships?"

"Possible. One probably, but what is the other? It's pretty low in the atmosphere..." he frowned as he pecked at his controls, working his fingers around the broken or sticky keys as best he could. When he finished his inquiry he hit the execute button then sat back and rubbed his fingers together to get some of the stickiness off. Angelo and his damn sugar kick he thought with a corner of his mind as the computer broke the IFF down further.

"Yeah," he grunted. "One's a tanker, the other one is get this, a gas refinery!"

"You don't say!" the PO said, now curious. "When the hell did they get the tech for something like that?"

"The tanker? I don't know."

"Anything more?"

"IFF says to quote 'inquire when we make orbit. Payment is expected.' Unquote," he said.

"Shit. Frack, no way can we afford it."

"I doubt it. Skipper wants enough fuel for one or two jumps. If this is refined... you think HE3?" He was referring to Helium 3. "Or Deuterium?"

"No fracking idea. It'd be nice though. Expensive I bet. I'll let the skipper know," the PO stated.

"Yeah, you do that," Oswald sighed. He leaned back and stretched as he watched Blake type out an email or log entry. Their ship had been in transit for a decade and a half. That was a hell of a long time to be away from home. He'd heard of longer voyages, and they'd damn near become one of those that never came back.

But the big gamble was about to pay off. Or would as soon as they got back to friendly space. Was the skipper planning to take them to Pyrax? It was possible; they'd gotten word that the Gather Fleet had been assembling a conquering fleet to sweep through the sector just before they'd left Horath.

It'd be nice if they'd already gotten to Nightingale. Then no bill, no worrying about exposure. But he doubted it. He frowned and then absently ran the calculations. He ran a second set when he realized he'd gone the southern route. That just made the frown deepen. It was possible, probable even. He just wasn't sure. It all depended on the fleet and which way her Commanders jumped and what star systems they had prioritized to take.

Either way they'd find out when they got into orbit in 2 weeks.

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Captain Levinson of the Horseshoe Crab class Frigate Descartes cursed the luck when his sensor watch reported the arrival of a new ship. The ship had jumped in from B443 so it had a questionable origin. He'd just started a new war game with Captain Yu on Loch, Descartes' sister ship in order to pass the time.

He was frustrated, he knew it. So was Troy. They knew the crew was frustrated by their situation too. But they didn't have a choice; they weren't going to abandon their post. Ever since they'd run down that Horathian fleet they'd learned to appreciate the duties of being on a picket... however boring it was when no one else was around.

Now the usual crap about actually liking the boredom over the brief moments of excitement came into his mind. He did his usual best to brush them aside.

"Skipper, we've been getting a lot of interference from the solar storms in the area. Our signals may not punch through right away. Not until we get clear of them at any rate," PO R'll reported.

"Do your best," the captain ordered. "Pass on our compliments and order them to heave to and prepare to be boarded once we've got an intercept course. I want to do this and get back to our war game," he growled. Yu had kicked his ass in the last 2 passes and it was dead even. He was determined to make it game and set, match on this go around, not a draw.

"Aye Aye Sir," the Veraxin rating replied. She tapped at her controls with her truehands and passed the order on to the civilian ship as well as their authority to pass on such orders.

"Let Loch know what we're doing. Tell them to tag along. We might as well refuel at Bertha before we go back to the games," Captain Levinson ordered. The tanker was the real reason he felt safe enough to play the war games in real life. And hell, if they broke something maybe it would get the navy to cough up the relief they'd been promised and regretfully delayed for so damn long he mused darkly.

"Aye Aye Sir."

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