Naval Shipyards,

Caelus IV

Chase had let Grace disembark freely despite after Trafalgar’s return to the shipyard. Whilst he had claimed to have drafted her, though she suspected he never actually filed the paperwork.

She’d been having a drink with Wokoma in the shipyards’ lounge. Wokoma had gone to order another round, leaving her slate on the table. Quickly, Grace picked it up. It was a supply manifest with the items that needed to be replenished. She could see they had put in a request to upgrade Trafalgar’s diminished shuttle fleet. That made sense. Although it claimed there were four onboard, Grace had clocked five when she’d been on there.

That could mean…

Grace left a couple of credits to cover her drinks, dropped the slate back on the table, this time locking the interface to cover her tracks, and headed down to the station’s docking bay. Grace picked up a slate and found some duty overalls in a storage locker, If anyone spotted her in the ships corridors it should stop too much undue attention.

Acting like she belonged there, She walked passed the two armed guards to the airlock and swiped her pass. The light on access panel flashed red. Damn. She tried again, Red. Looking over her shoulder, neither guard had yet realised anything was wrong.

Grace turned to leave, only to hear the whir of the airlock. Looking back she was greeted by an open door and a green light.

Making her way to the lower deck, Grace realised that she was almost reenacting her first time onboard the battleship, back when she didn’t know if she would ever make it back to the Cluster. Luckily she was no longer stuck in that bulky environmental suit.

The main shuttle bay had only four shuttles, If Grace was right and there was another on board, it wasn’t here.

The larger bay was empty. She checked the area before stepping out. The massive space doors were completely shut, and the overhead lighting flicked on with her entering the bay. She walked over to a terminal and ran a search of the Trafalgar’s interior. This was indeed the main shuttle bay; however, an auxiliary bay was listed two decks up.

The overalls were baggy and didn’t fit particularly well. She tied her dark hair back. It wasn’t a foolproof disguise, but she hoped at least from behind it would stop anyone immediately recognising her.

She hadn’t taken a close look at the photo on the ID badge, and she hoped no one else would either. Getting in an express elevator, she went up the two decks, heading back to where the schematics indicated the auxiliary bay was located. It was about a quarter of the size of the main bay, with only room for two or three small craft at the most.

As she walked in, her hunch proved correct.

Right there before her was her ship, the one she had hired for the expedition to the Nomadic, the one that prick Dryden had stolen. Whilst it was a month overdue being returned, the charges for that were significantly smaller than the amount she would have had to pay had she never returned it.

Besides, there was a war on now, and they would probably be less fussy when it eventually came back… and for the moment, she now had a pair of wheels again. Her position had just gone up in the cosmos.

Grace ran over to the ship and activated the access hatch. The last time she’d been on board, she’d left via the floor hatch, dropping down onto the Nomadic. This time, she stepped in through the side access and took a look around. It didn’t appear to have been cleaned since she was last there, but it hadn’t been used either.

She looked over the system status, clicking a switch to bring the readouts online. It was in perfect working order. She smiled to herself. This was very good news. She checked the fuel readouts, and they were as they had been. She was good to go anywhere she set her sights.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Grace attempted the ignition sequence, waiting for a few moments. Nothing happened. That was fun whilst it lasted, she thought. The thirty seconds where she did not have to give the next several decades of her life over to corporate greed to pay off a whimsical escapade gone awry, assuming, of course, she didn’t find a way to immediately get herself killed in this war.

It’s not like she didn’t want to help with that, but she didn’t know how. The Navy was far more qualified than she was. If the process relied on her finding buried secrets, she might be able to help. But she got lucky once, but they needed something other than her dumb luck to win this.

Then, of course, there was the question of the strange man on the Amethyst planet. When she decided to stay, he could create mystifying illusions, including making her appear invisible.

Clearly, he was the person they needed onside to defeat whoever these people were, and that was something He seemed to know. Perhaps Grace would be able to find him again.

She’d been studying star charts. It would take several weeks to get back out there from Caelus IV. Not impossible, but she would need more supplies this time. This time, she’d have to be self-sufficient. Now, back in the comfort and safety of civilization, she could admit to herself that it had been quite fun. Now that she’d survived, of course. The fact she got so close to that not being the case quite so often is probably the sort of thing she should learn from. Not that she would.

The ship gave no sign of starting up, so she went to the rear compartment. It was larger than a typical shuttle craft by some stretch and had taken up most of the auxiliary bay because of it. There were basic living quarters to the rear of the cockpit and ample storage in the ceiling space above the single deck. She’d been rather fond of the ship. It made for a very useful mobile base of operations. She was sad she wouldn’t get to fly it again.

Opening the storage locker, she found the rest of her clothes and her and her personal effects, both of which she had assumed were lost. She was pleased to get them back.

She’d have to find a larger travel bag, or she might sell some of it at the shipyard’s market. It wouldn’t be worth much, but it would probably buy her a couple of meals and save her from having to carry it wherever she went next. The shuttle was still powered up, so she returned to the cockpit and powered it down before heading back out to the bay.

It occurred to her that she had no idea where to go and she dropped the pile of clothes and just sat there.

There were ships due to depart, starliners heading towards the more civilised planets. It was the last place Grace wanted to find herself, but her options seemed to be torn between staying here, going there, or heading out with the Navy into who knows what. That certainly wasn’t one of her aims. The civilised planets seemed to be her best option of the three. She wasn’t sure how she would scrounge up enough for a ticket. She might offer her services on a crew. She didn’t have much shipping experience, but she could cook. She might get a job in a ship’s galley.

Grace lay her head in her hands, deflated. It really was that bad. She remembered something and popped up to her feet, climbing back into the ship. In the storage compartment above the bed… She reached up and retrieved a bottle of whisky. She went back and sat on the deck and took a swig. She never used to enjoy having a drink neat, but without anything to mix it, she didn’t find it as unpleasant as usual. This would have been so much easier if the shuttle had simply started.

The loud automated door to the shuttle bay opened with a mechanical groan, She expected security guards, but she found it was Commander Chase, alone, unescorted, and not looking at all surprised to find her.