Bert plugged the last set of coordinates into the course plotter. Now came Bert’s favorite time, the time to wait and relax in the quiet of the control room. He took a picture out of his pocket and stared quietly. After a few minutes, he heard Fade’s footsteps in a more agitated walking pattern. The captain collapsed into the pilot seat and laid his head back.
“So,” Bert asked, “what happened with the Lieutenant? Did he cut ya any slack about our food problems?”
“Offered more problems than solutions,” Fade said; he smiled coyly when he noticed the whitewashed back of Bert’s laminated picture, “What’re you looking at?”
“What?” Bert asked, deeply suspicious.
“I’ve never seen you with a picture before.”
“Oh this! This ain’t nothin’, just a picture I had taken with some friends about eleven years ago,” Bert said.
Fade snatched the photograph of a beach front. A younger man with much more hair posed front and center among a group of twelve bikini-clad women. A volleyball net stood directly behind them. Fade shivered at the sand engulfing their feet. Bert snatched the picture back.
“That was taken while I lived on Ganyemede. I was their coach. Best job I ever had. Thought I’d pull it out of my scrapbook so it’s with me if I should die or somethin’”
“Let me guess,” Fade said, “you volunteered for the position.”
“Nah, I had to beat fifty other men in a fighting competition. I have the scars to prove it, but hey, it was well worth it in pictures alone!”
“I would have never guessed,” Fade said, “not in a million years.”
“Yah, that was the good life,” Bert said. “How can I forget the Desert Ocean Blasters: Kayla, Denise, Wanda, Kitty, Fran, Colleen...”
“You don’t have to name them,” Fade sighed, “Anyway, what do you think about our odds?”
“The odds were no good with any them.”
“The strategic odds now, how do you think this engagement is going to play out?”
“Engagement, I couldn’t even get to first base!” Bert said, sinking into his seat.
“I’m talking about the upcoming battle you nit wit. Enough joking. What are our chances?”
“Oh, those odds. This is supposed to be a huge battle, so if we’re going to die, now would be a good time. Or it would be a bad time. Ahh, what the hell do I know. What’s all this about anyway?”
A screen brightened up, the lines that represented Horace’s voice began to flow into waves.
“The Captain is concerned because the Empire is spreading misinformation about its military strength. This propaganda is not designed to not to deceive the enemy, but the people. The recommissioning of the Dorian and the utilization of mercenary forces to flesh out the existence of a once phantom fleet is notable evidence of this.”
“I thought this was going to be a turkey shoot,” Bert said, “Seems we’re the turkeys. What a shame for you Captain. Just when ya finally pick up a cute girl, ya have to die.”
“Her?!” Fade protested, “Not exactly.”
“The last time I heard a guy say that about a woman he ended up married with two kids to that same “not exactly”. By the way, is she still training?”
“She has another hour,” Fade said.
“Nothin’ to do?” Bert asked, “How bout some coffee before we all die, not the imperial surplus. I had some of the good stuff stashed away for when I needed to be real sober. Let’s have at it.”
“Fine,” Fade sighed, “But would you please stop saying we’re going to die.”
-----
Brown waves rippled in the steaming mug as the lump of sugar sunk to the bottom. Bert stirred it carefully while breathing the steam into his hairy nostrils. He stared into Fade’s mug before sipping from his own.
“Black again, eh,” Bert said.
“You should try it,” Fade said, “It’s the best way to get sober,”
“How would you know?” Bert asked, “Every time ya get a little ya pass out before ya even get drunk.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Karen interrupted their coffee break. She glanced at the coffee, then stared at the two men like they were misbehaving puppies.
“How long are you boys going to keep me waiting?” she asked, “My broadcast needs to be ready before the twilight news airs in the Imperial Capital. That’s twenty minutes from now! You better be there.”
She left in a hurry, kicking the side of the hatch once she was out of the kitchen, a custom designed to simulate the slamming of a door.
“I think I’ll help her broadcast,” Fade said, “nothing better to do.”
“What a woman,” Bert whistled, “Think I could get a handful of her on television?”
“Behave yourself,” Fade said. “I don’t need that kind of publicity.”
“I wonder if she ever played volleyball?”
-----
With the exception of shuffling feet and the various panel pings, the control room remained quiet. Bert accessed the headphones of the intercom panel and adjusted the sound controls. When finished, he admired Karen as she leaned against the back of her seat. Her eyes were stitched to her phone. Bert winked, and while she saw him out of the corner of her eye she pretended not to notice.
The greasy black hair of Adritah glimmered as he stood near the exit. The other cameraman, Carlos, examined the camera. Neither bothered to notice Bert’s antics. Bert salivated for the few seconds as Karen bent over to rummage through her purse and retrieve a blue case with a small powder puff inside.
“I’m going to be on in five minutes and you’re still not ready,” she said to Fade, trying to powder his face. Fade flicked the puff to the other side of the room. Bert caught it, took a sniff, and stuffed it in his pocket.
“I don’t use makeup,” Fade said.
The lights dimmed slightly during a minimal vibration. The first telegraph transferred the distance via micro magnetic wormhole. The computers furiously worked to convert the information into a message.
“We just made the first telegraph,” Bert said, “checking coordinates and distance. Give me a few minutes to adjust the field, otherwise they won’t receive a signal back on the capitol.”
The magnetic wormhole relay allowed faster than light communications. Planets several thousand light years away could receive communications minutes or hours later. Bert worked franticly, his fingers typing code quickly.
"This is a live feed,” Karen said, “Please, try to make a good impression. You might even be interviewed by Mr. Derrick himself; so Fade should try to look busy.”
“Everything’s ready,” Bert said, finishing his work on the controls.
Karen fastened a black microphone the size of a pin to her collar before primping herself in front of the camera. There was another microphone in her hand, a thin black cylinder, which she tested by issuing more verbal commands. She hid the strap of a tiny pair of earphones in her hair.
As an added bonus, Bert diverted the majority of the front screen to the stargazing cameras on the ship’s hull. The brilliant array of steady celestial lights made the galaxy glow. The radar screens were reduced to a minimum, but nothing bigger than the Imminent Destruction’s own matter trail showed within seventy-five thousand kilometers.
“Ten seconds, Miss Hughes,” said Carlos, the rest of the countdown flickered from a small screen atop the main camera. She said ‘Circlet Press’ and her equipment activated. Once the red digits clicked down to zero, she spoke without hesitation.
“This is Karen Hughes, reporting live aboard the cruiser Imminent Destruction of the Independent Battle Corp,” she said, “The Imminent Destruction is a mercenary cruiser en-route to the join the Imperial Fleet in a pivotal assault on enemy forces.”
Karen paused, holding her earphone.
“No Tom, we’ve had no contact with the enemy. It’s been a peaceful voyage.”
“With a few ceptions,” Bert said quietly, accessing his communications controls. He switched the incoming feed onto the intercom so the passengers and crew could hear the questions.
“Planet huggers here in the capital tend to wonder what it’s like up there,” Tom said, “Have you experienced zero gravity?”
“Actually no, this cruiser lacks zero gravity facilities. In order to utilize zero gravity the gravity generators would have to be shut down. We’ve experienced half a gravitational unit consistently, the pull generated toward the negative Y of ship.”
“What about the crew, how many people are aboard the ship?”
“That’s confidential information at this stage,” she said, “The captain has not given me access. I’ve been kept on a short leash.”
“I’d like a picture of that,” Bert said under his breath,
“Would anyone on board be willing to communicate?” Tom asked.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, “I had trouble even getting access as a member of the standard imperial press.”
“I can tell you a little bit, common knowledge of course” Bert said, standing beside her, “I’m the mechanic, anything that breaks down, I fix it. I also work the missile launchers. The Imminent Destruction is a special cruiser, far more powerful than your average machine, and smarter too.”
“That’s quite a boast,” Karen frowned, “Since you are the Mechanic, could you tell us about the Imminent Destruction’s technical specs?”
“This is an X-580ID class cruiser,” Bert explained, a bit of sweat forming on his brow, “They come standardized with four, one-hundred and five millimeter beam cannon on the front quadrants. It also carries homing torpedoes which can target a cruiser from as far as three hundred thousand kilometers. I’ve recently uphanded the torpedoes to Deadeye-11s to have more resistance to counting measures.
The space mine launchers can lay down twenty dispersal mines at a time, which create spherical fields in under a minute. I’ve installed top of the line anti-personnel weaponry on the surface, over twenty particle guns, false entrance panels that... go boom when opened in a vacuum, repair droids, and top of the line anti-virus software.
Now, as for speed, the Imminent Destruction’s short term sub-space jumping ability can push her to proton twenty. The cruiser’s deep space maneuverability mode is also unmatched. She can handle Mach four in deep space with the upgrades I installed to the particle engines. Any other question?”
“Nothing more for you Mr. Slemgut. Please give me my microphone back,”
Bert dropped the microphone in her palm, and she tossed it to the Captain.
“The Imminent Destruction has had a profuse service record under your command,” she said, “Could you give the Imperial citizens an example of your exploits?”
“I prefer not to,” Fade sighed, “but I’ll assure the citizens of Imperial victory. It’s my duty as a citizen.”
Karen backed away, deciding to wrap up her report.
“Thank you, Captain,” Karen said, “Thank you Mr. Derrick. I will continue to report from the Imminent...”
Karen flew backwards into control panel as room rocked. The screens showing the outside glowed with ripples of royal purple as another shock wave vibrated through the control room.
Bert examined the radar in a cold sweat as Karen crawled back to her camera.