“Looks like a surprise party,” Gareth said, “in your honor, no less.”

“I think I’m gonna like this job,” House said in a serious voice.

#

An hour later, Dallas was back in the captain’s quarters.

“Isn’t it great?” Dallas said. The last hour had been given to several crew members getting drunk, finding quarters for the new members of the mech team, and getting the soberst- sound members of the comm team to convince the station’s loading crew to discreetly put the team’s mechs into the bays of the Palefroi next to the Galatine.

“Not bad,” Gareth said, sitting on the chair with a straight face, “for a drunk crew and a captain who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Aw, Gareth! Be happy! Look at what we’ve accomplished! This morning we had no idea what our next step was going to be! And now, (thank you Saint Christopher), we have a ship, a crew, and a mech team besides! You didn’t think we’d get to this point for months, if that! I got us here in a few hours!”

“Correction, Captain. If I may? You got us into a bar fight. And even with your great-grandfather’s blade, you were literally a knife- edge from you losing your hand instead of that Corporate leg-breaker dropping his right arm.”

“I had that whole thing down fine, Gareth.”

“Only because I pulled your fat out’ve that particular fire, boy! On your own? If I hadn’t stepped in? You’d be room temperature on the floor of that place, and one of your ears would be decorating that soldier’s belt.”

Dallas stopped and looked at Gareth, the glow from his victory fading. “You really know how to wreck a good mood, you know that?”

“Some good moods need wrecking, Dallas. I’ve seen guys in your place before. They have a victory from a lucky break, and suddenly think they’re a military genius. Then they don’t listen to anyone, because, hey, why should they? They’re the genius!” Gareth was standing now, talking almost to himself, his steel right hand flexing and making deft movements at his belt level.

“Gareth…”

“Then, the first serious, scary setback they have? They come up with some crazy, stupid plan. When the smart thing to do is run and hide, they go and run in, guns-a-blazin’!”

“Gareth…”

“And then, the first hit doesn’t wake ‘em up! Oh, no. Not until the ship’s tore open, engine’s on fire, half the crew’s been sucked into space and the other half’s screaming for God, Thor, Buddha or their mother’s to save ‘em…”

“Gareth!”

“...oh, yeah, that’s when they realize they weren’t smart, they were just lucky, and their luck just ran out, and so did everyone else’s who was following them!”

“Ok Gareth, fine. You know what? You’re right. I’m totally unfit for this job, despite the crew and the squad I just found, and getting past every man and his squire on New Avalon to get this far!”

“Yes, you’re totally unfit for this job! And sorry for raining on your little parade back there, but I’d rather see you disappointed here than sucking vacuum in space because your head got too big for the captain’s hat!”

“How hard can it be, Gareth?”

“Oh, dear Mother of all Mercies…”

“I'm not talking about heading up a crew of warriors, that’s a separate issue. I’m talking about heading up this ship? It’s just a transport, Gareth! We’re not at war here! I just tell it to go one place, and it goes! The men mess up, I fire them and find someone else! That lump of fat who was in charge kept it running until…”

Dallas was quiet for a second.

“What?” said Gareth, still facing the wall. “You got some other reason to tell me I’m wrong? Before I served your father, back when I was just a little older than you, I saw a ship burn in space, Dallas. A hundred men, maybe more. Sons, fathers, husbands. Some were friends of mine. One was- one was a woman. A beautiful woman. A beautiful perfect woman, Dallas. All dead, all because of a dumb-flup commander who thought being a few-times lucky was the same thing as invincible, or infallible.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Dallas didn’t answer. He was facing his own wall, his hands at his sides. Gareth heard him sniff.

Gareth turned. Dallas’ back was to him, shaking just a little. “Kid?” he said. “You ok?”

Dallas didn’t answer. A single burst of voice shot out, despite Dallas’ efforts to hold it in. “They-” Dallas said.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for yelling at ya, kid,” Gareth said, turning, his voice weary. “C’mere.” He laid his hand on Dallas’ shoulder and gently turned the boy around. Tears were tracking down Dallas’ face, his mouth turned into a grimace of pain.

Dallas looked up at Gareth, tears still flowing silently.

Gareth put his arms around Dallas and hugged him. “It’s ok, kid,” Gareth said. “You can let it all out now. Rough day, but you can let it out, here.”

Dallas sobbed; the violence of the day rushing out in a torrent of tears that eventually became quiet howls into the bigger man’s shoulder. For nearly five very long minutes, Dallas cried over the dead captain, dead soldiers and the losses he’d endured of everything he’d ever known. After it was done he looked at Gareth again.

“Doin’ better?” Gareth said.

“Yeah,” Dallas sniffed, wiping his eyes. “Is it gonna be like that every time?”

“When yer in a fight and people die? Maybe. Everyone’s different. Me, yeah. It got better. Others I knew? Not so much. Ready to siddown?”

Dallas nodded, taking a seat at the single chair next to the desk in the Captain’s quarters. “Think I’m gonna hafta clean this place up a bit,” Dallas said, looking around at the squalor the room’s last inhabitant had left.

“Hire a local gal. They do a good job, and could always use the TDs. Look, Dallas, before I forget: Remember the rules I taught you earlier?”

“Rule number one: Assume everyone’s dishonest as you could be.”

“Next?”

“Everything is complicated. If it looks simple, it’s probably a trap.”

“You added that last bit on your own. Which is fine. Number three?”

“You always have other options.”

“Good. Here’s the last one, only for commanders of men: Cry on your own. You’re always gonna get upset, worried, angry, all of it. But in front of your men, you’re made of ice and steel. Feel your feelings all you want. But your men can’t see you cry, shake in fear, be uncertain or anything other than fully confident in yourself and the decisions you make. They need to believe, at least believe, that what wild pony the galaxy sends us, that you’re the man to get the saddle on it and ride it out’ve town. This room, right here, this is where you get to be a human being. If you take a wife, you can be that in front of her, too, but only in here, where the men don’t see. Unnerstand?”

“Is that healthy?”

“Some’d say not. But they usually say that from inside a planetside office while sitting at an oversized oakwood desk in a plush chair. Anyone who’s had to deal with a crew rough around the edges as this one’ll agree with Rule Four, no problem.”

“Fair enough,” Dallas said, sighing and running his fingers through his hair as he looked at the metal floor in his newly-acquired Captain’s cabin. “What’s my next move, then?”

“What do you think that should be?”

Dallas looked for a second at Gareth, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Check and make sure the mechs of those new pilots we hired are getting loaded without any pieces ‘falling off’ and getting sold on the black market. I’ve read stories about how that can happen.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Check out financials. See what passes for a CFO on this tub and find out exactly what we owe, and to whom.”

“Great. And?”

Dallas smiled, and started to turn his head towards the door. “Welllll,” he started.

“No,” Gareth said.

“What?”

“I know that look all too well, Dallas Morgan. That crimson-haired little wonder from the Red-Star Coalition is off-limits while she’s working for you. If she starts batting her eyes at you, that might be a different story. But for the most part it’s unfair and more trouble than it’s worth. You got me?”

Dallas waited for a second, then shrugged his shoulders. “I get you,” Dallas said, sniffing.

“Really?”

“Really. Rodeo really.”

“Fine. Now, for the record: I caught her sneaking looks at you when you were all off in peyote-land over the shock of killing someone earlier. If you two kids do get together, there’s only one thing you need to find out immediately.”

“What’s that?” Gareth’s face looked more serious than he’d ever remember seeing it.”

“You have to ask her…if she has an aunt my age who looks like she does.” Gareth said as he broke into a smile, gave Dallas a gentle tap on the cheek with his left hand, which turned into a pointed finger an inch from Dallas’ nose.

“Unbelievable,” Dallas said, rolling his eyes.

“Believe it, buckaroo. I’ll see you in ten minutes on the bridge. The crew needs orders, and we need to start making money!”

#

TO BE CONINUED...