Wokoma had Grace pinned to the floor, the younger woman holding on tightly to the cup in one hand and the translation device in the other. Dryden stayed back trying not to break out into laughter.

Chase looked at Wokoma disapprovingly and tilted his head toward the shuttle.

“What?” Wokoma asked.

“I was handling it,” Replied Chase.

“Didn’t look like it,” replied Wokoma.

“Get onboard the shuttle, both of you. Grace we’ll discuss this on the move.”

***

The clouds parted, and the sky turned to stars as the shuttle broke atmosphere. The dot of light directly ahead took the form of the Battleship Trafalgar as they closed in. From the pilot's seat, Chase turned to look at Grace.

“I need to get the device to interface with the shuttle.”

“This is my discovery. You have no claim to it.”

Chase stared at her.

“Grace, you understand this could be the only thing that stops this war from spreading. There have already been attacks on installations throughout the cluster.”

Grace thought on this for a moment. He was right, but she needed her bargaining position here.

“You can’t just demand it,” she told him. “I do have rights. We’re not under your junta yet.”

In the seat in front of her, Wokoma looked at Chase, who was unimpressed.

“Let me ask you one last time. Would you kindly give me that piece of technology that will prove invaluable militarily?”

“I said… no,” said Grace, wielding every last piece of influence she had.

“Very well,” said Chase. “In that case, you leave me no alternative. Grace Dakota, you are hereby drafted into the Alpha Persei Cluster Navy, and as such, I order you to surrender the technology.”

“The fuck?” asked Grace.

“The fuck,” Wokoma replied.

“You’re not helping,” said Chase.

“Sorry,” said Wokoma. “Tell her what happens now if she doesn’t comply.”

“You can’t do that,” said Grace. “We are a democracy.”

“Actually,” said Chase, “we have a very broad range of powers during times of war, which this undisputedly now qualifies as. Do you think having to pay off a stolen shuttle would ruin your life? That’s nothing.”

Grace sighed. She took a few steps and placed the cylinder in Wokoma’s hand, who smiled at her politely.

“Very well,” said Chase. “Thank you, crewman. Now report to the battleship Trafalgar.”

Grace panicked. “But I gave you what you wanted?”

Chase looked at her expectantly. “I told you, you’ve been drafted into the Navy. Now report to your station, crewman.” He indicated to Wokoma that Grace might need to be escorted. They started taking steps towards her.

“Fine,” said Grace. She smiled. Well, it had been fun exploring a new planet, having an entire world to herself, but it was probably smart to get a ride when one had presented itself. Plus, they were now obliged to feed her.

Snag was, she was riding into battle. Her life expectancy had probably dropped from another sixty or seventy years down to less than a week.

It was going to be a problem.

Up front, Wokoma was still working with the translation cylinder.

Grace wondered what temperature they kept the battleship there. Knowing the Navy, probably not too warm to save money. She’d heard of roving gangs of sailors on old Earth who would go around bars and force people who were drunk to enlist in the Navy. By the time they’d sobered up and realised what had happened, they were already out of port. She couldn’t decide if her situation had been better or worse.

Perhaps she could jump ship, but that would just add another problem. Maybe Chase would drop the whole conscription thing if she just gave him time. When she could get close to a comm unit, she should consult a lawyer. That seemed smart. Though she had no idea how you found a lawyer to get you out of military conscription.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

The cluster had had an all-volunteer military since its inception. She was worried about what they planned to make her do. She couldn’t see herself as a ground pounder.

“Wokoma, keep at it,” said Chase. “We gotta figure out how to get it to work ASAP.”

He clicked over the comm channel. “Shuttle to Trafalgar, come in,” said Chase. A few moments of static later, he got an acknowledgement. “Have the engine room. Tell him we are going to need to jump back at the earliest convenience.”

“They are not going to like that,” came the crackled reply from Winter.

“I don’t expect they will. Tell them anyway, shuttle out.” Chase clicked off the communications. He turned to Grace. “You’re gonna help Wokoma get the communications working. You speak any other languages?” he asked.

“Si,” said Grace.

Chase looked at her blankly.

“No, not really,” she replied.

“We need that thing working as soon as we jump back,” said Chase.

Wokoma agreed. “We do not know how many more ships they might have incoming. They could have a larger occupation force than we realise,” she said.

Grace nodded.

“This could be our only shot at stopping the occupation of the cluster,” said Chase. “We have to make sure we do everything we can because—bloody hell—they have us overpowered. They can out gun us, out fly us, and out shoot us. We need every advantage we can get to even hold our position, let alone gain superiority. We’re simply not currently in a position to win this war,” said Chase.

Grace had been so occupied with trying to make up for her losses on her quest to get rich she hadn’t stopped to consider the idea that the world she had left a month prior no longer existed.

“I’ll do what I can,” said Grace solemnly.

“I’ll do what I can, sir,” Chase corrected her.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

Chase looked. “If we can get them to talk to us, we might just somehow de-escalate the situation before things get even more out of control.”

“So far it seems reasonably simple to point and speak,” said Wokoma. “But we’ve no idea how to integrate it with our communication systems, let alone the centuries-old systems we are using on Trafalgar.”

Grace nodded. She was hardly a technical expert herself, but if she could help, she would. She had seen how the systems worked on Nomadic. Well, she had bashed buttons until she got a satisfactory result, which was more or less the same.

“How do we know they use communications we can interact with?” asked Grace.

The other two stared at her. This was an issue they hadn’t even stopped to consider.

“That is a very worrying thought,” said Chase. “We’ll have to give it a go and see what works.”

“Agreed,” Wokoma said.

The comm unit buzzed and Chase acknowledged it. “Lieutenant Dryden reports we can jump in four hours.”

He clicked off. “I had been expecting at least six. Mr Dryden enjoys complaining, but not nearly as much as he enjoys showing off.”

Grace had to grin. He was not wrong, and then she remembered how much she hated that traitor.

“Well, let’s focus on this,” Wokoma said, holding up the cylinder.

“My house is red,” she said. Grace stared at her blankly.

“I didn’t say that in English,” she replied.

Grace’s eyes widened. This would take some getting used to.

“I would like three beers,” said Grace in Spanish.

“I think there are some cans on Trafalgar,” said Chase, “not sure how good they are at this point.”

“Good work,” said Chase. “Now if only we knew some non-human languages.”

“Commander,” said Wokoma, “when we dock, put a call out to the whole crew. Anyone with extra language skills are to report to you.”

The Shuttle made its way into the cavernous docking bay.