*ASC Galaxy In Earth Orbit
November 11, 2505
09:20 hours GST-Z *
Walking into the infirmary for the first time, Dr. Jennifer May Lasiter was taken aback by the immensity of it. Galaxy was seven hundred and fifty meters long and three hundred and fifty meters wide. Deck twelve was the infirmary. What an understated name. This was a hospital unit. There were surgical bays, recovery rooms, some private rooms, and a general area for patients. Bio-beds and medical exam equipment, all state of the art.
She looked at the crates of supplies stacked along the north wall, taking it all in. She would have to find a home for all of it. Organizing the infirmary was her job. As Galaxy's chief medical officer, she handled it all. She would have two doctors and two residents under her command, along with nurses and orderlies. This was her first posting in Astro Corps as a CMO. Her first tour had been aboard the* Aegis*, a European-class hammerhead cruiser. The infirmary there would only take up a quarter of Galaxy's massive medical decks.
She found her office along the west wall, close to the main entrance of deck twelve. Her team would come aboard in stages throughout the shakedown cruise. For the first two weeks it was going to be her, her assistant physician Lieutenant Ramos, one nurse, and two orderlies. That was not very many. Once fully staffed, her medical team would comprise sixty members divided into three shifts. She had already sorted through her crew rosters and sent them to Galaxy's future captain for final approval. He had returned them with a note: If you trust them, I trust them. Welcome aboard, Dr. Lasiter and team.
He seemed amiable enough, or perhaps just inexperienced. Her last captain, Captain Betancourt, mistreated the medical staff. As chief assistant aboard the Aegis, her interactions with command staff had been negative. Other more veteran med staff on Aegis told her that many ships operated this way. Now she would have to get used to the shakedown captain, and then her actual captain. She would do her job and be professional, and she hoped they would be as well. That had not been her experience in six years in the Corps.
"Come on, Jennifer, too much work to stand around daydreaming, she chastised herself. "No time like the present to get to work," she said aloud to the empty deck, or what she thought was an empty deck.
"Ma'am?" A gruff but pleasant voice answered from behind a stack of crates. A Marine corporal dressed in his gray service tunic with maroon trim stepped around. A pulse pistol hung in its holster at his side. He was tall, about six foot two, with sandy brown hair, deep brown eyes, a chiseled face, but warm and friendly. He looked to be in his early thirties and was not unpleasant to look at. She took a small step back out of reflex.
"My apologies, Corporal. Startling you was not my intention. I thought I was alone. I was just talking to myself about getting to work organizing my infirmary."
At the mention of her infirmary, the corporal snapped to attention and saluted. Her white lab coat had covered her insignia, so he had not realized he was addressing a superior officer.
"I am sorry, Commander. I did not see your rank, or I would have—"
"It is perfectly all right, Corporal..."
"Rourke, ma'am. Corporal Robert Rourke, part of your security detail during the shakedown." He responded concisely and precisely. He was every bit the prim and proper Astro Corps Marine.
"Well, Corporal Rourke, I am Dr. Jennifer Lasiter, CMO of this ship." She smiled and extended her hand. He took it in his strong, rough hands, callused from Marine work. His warmth and steadiness made her heart skip a beat. Handsome. Strong. Easy smile. But remember, previous charm left you scarred. Be cautious, Jennifer. She released his hand after a moment, not hurried, simply reminding herself to keep things professional.
"I am going to my office to get settled. Do you have to stand here the whole time?"
"Yes and no, ma'am. I can walk around, but if I do, I have to be patrolling. My job is to secure the infirmary and make sure only allowed personnel come and go."
"Makes sense. My medicines and some of my equipment could easily end up on a ship's black market." She smiled, showing she understood his presence was practical, not intrusive.
"I will be here if you need me, ma'am, until 16:30, when I rotate off and Sergeant Jenkins takes over." Rourke returned to his post behind the crates.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Rourke. I am sure I will ask you to help me at some point. Until my staff gets here, if I need tall, you are going to be it." She smiled. He returned her smile.
"Very good, Doctor. Or do you prefer commander?" Rourke asked.
"Doctor is my preferred title. I may be a commander, but doctor is my job. I prefer to be called doctor."
"Yes, Doctor."
She turned and walked to her office, still smiling. He was a nice man. His eyes were kind; his manner was warm. If she had to have Marines posted, at least this one would be pleasant to work with. She entered her office, pushed up her sleeves, and thought, Now the actual work begins. Then she went about organizing her office.
ASC Chesapeake
In Orbit of Vega II
November 11,
2505 11:45 Hours GST-Z
Commander John Harrigan hated being reduced to a tour guide. Chesapeake was a warship, not an amusement attraction. Today he was leading a Junior ROTC tour group from De Young High School. At least these kids had committed themselves to trying for Astro Corps, some even for the Academy.
The group numbered about forty, and they followed him on their tour of the engine room. The engineering team smiled and was courteous to the teens, but it was clear this was an intrusion on the day's work schedule. Harrigan kept talking.
"As you know, kelocite ore fuels the reactors, much of it mined on Mars and in the Kuiper Belt." He paused beside a twenty-meter-tall cylindrical tube about ten meters in diameter and pressed his hand on the smooth metal.
"This is a kelocite cracking pod. Who knows what this does?"
A blond boy in the front row shot his hand into the air and waved.
"Go ahead, Cadet Captain Vargas."
"It takes the refined kelocite ore and runs it through a process to crack the energy hidden in the ore. By shooting high-energy photons into the ore, it cracks and releases energy and dust, which is pumped into the fusion reactor as fuel."
"Yes and no. Yes, high energy cracks the ore and presses it into dust. The cracking pods then channel that dust into the reactor as fuel. The energy in the reactor releases the power stored in the kelocite, which drives the plasma relays that feed the ship." Harrigan pointed to the plasma distribution tubes leading into the main reactor.
A young lieutenant commander stepped up beside Harrigan. Harrigan gestured toward him. "This is Lieutenant Commander Oliver Thomas, our engineer's mate. He will take most of you up to the crew's mess. Today you are in luck. We are having southern fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, salad, and apple pie."
The teens murmured excitedly at the thought of a shipboard meal. Eating aboard an Astro Corps warship was always a highlight of the JROTC program. Harrigan waited for the clamor to die down. He had given this tour six times in the past five years. It was always the same. Now came the part he disliked most.
"I understand some of you cadets are bound for the Academy this fall. Will those cadets step forward?"
Three cadets stepped out. Two boys chiseled and athletic. One girl, sturdy and of average height. At first glance she blended in, but there was a fire in her eyes, a spark that set her apart. Harrigan recognized drive when he saw it. He smiled faintly. It would take more than drive to survive the Academy's freshman dropout rate of twenty percent.
"You three will accompany me to the command center. You may tour the CC, but please touch nothing and do not disturb the officers working there."
"Yes, sir," they answered in unison.
"Mr. Thomas, take the cadets to lunch. We will join you shortly."
"Aye, Commander. Cadets, fall in." Thomas led the group in single file out of main engineering. Harrigan guided his trio of guests to the nearest lift and pressed the button for the CC.
"Any of you have family currently serving in the Corps?" he asked to break the silence.
"My father is an engineering chief aboard the ASC Orion," the girl answered.
"So, he did not attend the Academy?" Harrigan asked, then winced inwardly. Obviously not, John. Chiefs are non-coms.
"No, sir. He could not make it. He hoped I would. I received my acceptance this January."
"Congratulations, Cadet."
"Thank you, Commander."
Mercifully, the lift arrived, and the doors snapped open to reveal the CC in all its glory. The deck was alive with comm signals and officers talking into their headsets. Beeps, clicks, and clacks blended with the hum of computers and consoles. Lights blinked and flickered. The impression was unmistakable: This was the brain of the cruiser.
Harrigan led the cadets onto the CC. They stayed on the outer ring of consoles and did not approach the command island. He let them stand for a few minutes to absorb the scene. It is damn impressive when you stop and really look at it, he thought. He often took it for granted.
"Do you want to meet Captain Braggart?" he asked. Heads nodded eagerly, and they all murmured, "Yes, sir."
He led them up the four steps to the command island, leaving his XO station unmanned. In stationary orbit of Vega II, Braggart preferred him doing tours to sitting idle.
"Captain Braggart, may I present our Academy-bound JROTC cadets."
"Thank you, Commander Harrigan. Cadets, I am Captain Ezekiel Braggart. Good to meet you." Braggart stood and shook hands with each of them. He asked the usual questions about what they intended to study and when they left for the Academy. He challenged them to endure the last few months of high school so they could rise as Astro Corps cadets.
Afterward, he allowed each their turn in the command chair. He did not perform the full sequence of turning over the conn. If he had, the ship's AI would have logged a transfer of command and triggered an alert when no credentials appeared. Instead, he kept it ceremonial. He then instructed Ensign Harper to escort the three cadets to the mess so they could rejoin their classmates. Harper would later see them back to the shuttle bay.
As they left, the girl glanced back at the CC before stepping into the lift, drinking it all in. Harrigan smiled. She had a long way to go before she sat in a chair like this. If she makes it past Captain McIntyre's Geometry of Space Combat class. He smiled again. He had barely scraped through that course himself, often suspecting McIntyre tried to anger him on purpose.
When the cadets were gone, Harrigan returned to his post and let out a deep breath. Braggart noticed. He studied Harrigan a moment, as if weighing whether to speak, then decided.
"Rough tour, Commander?"
"Huh? No, sir." Harrigan blinked out of his thoughts.
"Won't miss that duty in a few months, will you?"
"No, Captain, I will not."
"Yeah, but it is a necessary evil. Besides, coming out here to Vega II is not too bad. Are you going to go planet-side while we are here?"
"Had not planned on it. I am still filling out my command team for Galaxy."
"John, when was the last time you got off this bird? When was the last time you ate a meal that was not prepped in the galley?"
"Cannot remember, sir."
"Then it has been too damn long. Do I need to order you to take liberty?"
"No, sir. You have made your point." Harrigan smiled at his mentor.
"Good. Go to dinner, do some shopping. Meet a woman and do what comes naturally." Braggart clapped him on the back. John blushed. He had never been a ladies' man as Braggart had been before Julie.
"That would be nice, sir. I am not as lucky with women as you were."
"What a load of nonsense, John. Luck is what you make it. That uniform does ninety percent of the work." Braggart laughed.
Nearby officers grinned, listening in.
"I will try to make a young lady's acquaintance, sir."
"Now that is the spirit!" Katie Miller from ops called across the deck. She was nine years younger than Harrigan but acted as though she was his age. She had lustrous black hair, pouty lips, and an hourglass figure. Gorgeous, though Harrigan had never considered asking her out since he was her superior. If he was honest with himself, he had a desire to test the waters with her, but as the XO that was not allowed, even by Zeke.
"Our Johnny Boy is going to try for a girl?" Davy Olson at the helm chimed in. Harrigan blushed even more.
"All right, all right, I get it," John said, laughing.
"We hope so. You have been so tense lately. For the morale of the ship, get laid," Davy teased.
"Enough," Braggart cut in, though his grin remained. "Stop busting the XO's chops. He just needs a shot of confidence. A few shots of tequila would not hurt either."
This was what John would miss. The camaraderie among comrades in arms. This was what made the Corps special. He also knew that if he had objected, Braggart would have shut it down. The culture aboard Chesapeake worked because it reflected Braggart himself. John only hoped he would create something similar on Galaxy. He was only months away from finding out.
But tonight, liberty and dinner awaited. That was the mission at hand.
Morgan's Pub and Restaurant
Newton City, Vega II
November 12, 2505
19:45 Hours GST-Z
Harrigan had finished his dinner and moved to the cigar and smoking rooms at the back of the pub. He filled his pipe with Vega II tobacco, the finest in the galaxy. The smoke carried a sweet aroma that tickled his nose. He drew in a lungful and let it out slowly, relaxing as he did.
There were other uniformed Astro Corps personnel in the pub, though not from Chesapeake. Another ship must be in orbit. John settled into a high-backed leather chair and closed his eyes, savoring the smoke. Conversations, laughter, and murmurs of quiet intimacy filled his ears. The mingled scent of Vega II tobacco hung in the air. Then, like a lightning strike, he heard her laugh.
It was light but hearty, carried by a familiar female timbre he knew at once. Brenda Nelson's laugh was distinctive, effusive, and contagious. He smiled before even knowing what she was laughing about.
His mind flashed back to his freshman year at Astro Corps Academy. Dashing across the promenade, he had caught up to her at the bell tower in the center of main campus.
"Brenda, wait up." He caught his breath as she turned around. She smiled coyly at him. She always did. Her deep blue eyes always looked to be calculating and plotting. Brenda had an intensity about her that was intoxicating. Many men on the campus noticed her, but so far she had only noticed him, John Harrigan.
"Johnny? I was on my way back to my dorm. Getting packed for spring break so I can leave after the formal dance tonight."
"Well, speaking of the formal, do you have anyone to go with?"
"I have had many invites, Johnny. Only one or two have given me pause. Why?"
"Shouldn't it be obvious? I am asking you to go to the dance with me. But if it is a formal ask, I can do that too." He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. She always made him nervous, but it was a good nervous.
"A lady has a right to a formal proposal, so yes, I want one." She winked, and her thin-lipped grin signaled her intent. She was going to make him sweat about it, and it was working too.
"Brenda, would you attend the spring formal dance with me?" He looked into her eyes and held her gaze. He tried to see if she would tip her hand to the answer, but as usual she did not.
"You know your mantra of control what you can control?"
"Yes?"
"Johnny, I will go to the dance with you, but you can't read more into it than me going to a dance with you." His face fell. She knew how to pour water over a guy's enthusiasm.
"Why do you always do that to me? I don't need qualifiers. If you'd rather not go, just say no. This game you play with me just hurts." He turned to walk away. She grabbed his arm.
"Johnny, I am sorry. I guess I just have a hard time committing to anything beyond the moment."
"You committed to the Corps." He pointed at the bell tower.
"Sure, that was easy. My family has a history in the Corps. Personal stuff is hard. Tell you what, we go to the dance. I don't have any plans to go off world for spring break. Let's enjoy tonight and see where it goes from there?" She smiled, and this time it felt genuine.
"That's a deal I can make with you. Tonight the dance, tomorrow, who the frag knows."
"There you go, Johnny Boy, live in the moment. Pick me up at nineteen thirty hours?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The images faded from his mind. They had spent the night at the dance and then a night at a local hotel. John smiled, remembering his first time. The images faded, and he heard her laugh again.
In the corner of the room, a group of officers smoked cigars, laughing uproariously. If she was here, Astra was here too. The Liberty-class cruiser was one of the first sleek designs to move away from the old hammerhead hull, the forerunner of the Saturn-class.
Her eyes caught his, and she sat upright. Pointing across the room, she called, "Johnny Harrigan, is that really you? Get your ass over here and join us." She patted an empty chair beside her.
John rose and crossed the room. She called, and he answered. That had always been their pattern. He and Brenda had been on and off again through their four years at the Academy. To John, she had been the one who got away. To her, their relationship had been fun in a hard place. She cared for him; he knew that. She loved him in her own way, but her career had always been her first devotion.
That was Brenda's and his story. She always held out enough bait to lure him in, and he kept biting. Why? Was it love or loneliness? Tonight, John, its horniness. Get over there and see if she takes your bait. Smiling, he decided he would try. He liked her, had history with her, and she was a damn sexy woman.
He joined her and the four male officers, who seemed to be her command team. They nodded to him as he sat down. Brenda reached over, plucked the pipe from his mouth, and took a puff before handing it back.
"Still smoking this sweet stuff, huh?" she said mockingly.
"We can't all smoke the charcoal you burn in yours," Harrigan quipped. The men stiffened a bit, unaccustomed to anyone giving it back to her without flinching.
"Boys, forgive me, but the Commander and I have a lot of catching up to do."
Her officers excused themselves, nodding to their captain and shaking John's hand. Then it was just the two of them. She was as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so. She wore the captain's stars and bars with authority, a weight of presence she carried easily.
"Commander Harrigan, what are you doing down here?"
"Taking liberty, hoping to meet someone, maybe have a good night out."
"Braggart kicked your ass off the ship, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that." He smiled and reached across the table to brush her hand. She did not pull away. She never had.
"Johnny, are you ever going to get out from under Braggart's shadow and get your own command?"
"Yes, soon, as a matter of fact."
"Oh really? Tell." She stubbed out her cigar. Harrigan tapped his pipe into the ashtray.
"I get my stars and bars in February, and with them my first command."
"Nice. What ship?" she asked, laying her hand over his.
"ASC Galaxy, one of the new Saturn-class cruisers." He straightened, his chest swelling with pride.
"Wow. That is a hell of a first assignment." She smiled, her thumb stroking his hand. Her hands were soft and warm.
"Yes, it is." He smiled back, caught in her blue eyes. He could lose himself in them.
"All right then. You buy me dinner and we will celebrate your good fortune." She bolted upright and headed for the pub side of the establishment. Same old Brenda, always off to the next task, never lingering long enough to be tied down. When she noticed he was not following, she turned back.
"Johnny, are you coming?"
"Yes, Captain." He mock-saluted.
"Yes, I am. Remember that, Commander." She grinned. Soon they were hand in hand, and it felt as if nothing had changed.
She ate while he watched her, still captivated. Afterward, they shared a strawberry and fudge sundae from a street vendor. They talked of old times, old friends, and the latest reports on where some of them had ended up. Their talk drifted to the present, then to other subjects. After hours together, John offered to walk her back to her shuttle.
"Johnny, I am not in the mood to go back tonight. My people can get by for one night." She smiled, placed her hands on his chest, and pulled him close.
He put his arms around her and held her close. The scent of her hair filled his lungs. He felt the softness and warmth of her body. They had always shared an easy intimacy. John had never been with anyone else, though he knew Brenda had. It did not matter. What mattered was here and now.
"I rented a room at the inn nearby. Bed is big enough for two," he whispered into her ear.
"You always know what to say to me, and when. I will go, Johnny."
An hour later, they reached his room. Inside, they kissed and sparked the old patterns and passions. Soon they were entwined in the sheets and in each other. For a night, John Harrigan was happy and content.
The next morning he awoke to an empty bed. Brenda was up, already dressing for duty. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, John rose, wrapped a robe around himself, and tried to head her off at the door.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked.
"Johnny, do not get weird. Let me go."
"Do you ever let anyone matter, Brenda? Or is it always the ship first?" His voice carried the quiet ache of disappointment. Old patterns, the same ones that had ended them before, returned.
"John, it was fun. I loved it. You are an amazing lover, tender and kind, but I am late for my ship. My career is my top priority, and you know that."
"I do. I get it. But I think we could be something special."
"I do not need special more than a night here and there, John." She slung her handbag over her shoulder.
"Take care of yourself, Johnny. Do not be too disappointed. I am just the tonic for a lonely night, not for a lonely life. I hope you find someone who is for you."
She kissed his cheek and walked out, leaving him standing there as she had so many times before.
The room felt colder now, the warmth of the night replaced by morning silence. He sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets already cool. For a brief time he had felt content, as if nothing had changed since the Academy, but reality had returned with her departure.
If his mother had lived, she would have told him not to waste his heart on someone who would never stay. Mary Harrigan would have seen through Brenda much earlier. His father, had they not been estranged, might have said the same in blunt words. Without their guidance, John had learned alone, and he learned poorly.
Each scar was a lesson. Each lesson he carried another weight. Command he could master. Love remained a battlefield he had never been trained to fight.