It's been four years since I ran away from home, purposefully living on the streets, avoiding patrols, guards, running faster from any wardens I may see. I am not going back home, but it's still two years until they can't force me anymore. Today, I turned sixteen; making me old enough to purchase my own starship, and salvage permits.
I have been working as part of Davidson's Crew for the better part of three years, and Boss kindly kept back my pay so that I could save enough to buy my own salvage rig. We both know that I can't afford much, and with my current budget, getting a ship big enough for even three people will be a stretch. So it's a good thing that I am only looking for one big enough for myself.
San Carlile Shipworks usually has decently used vessels on their line, and small ones like I am looking for tend to have quick turnover rates and are rarely burdened with major maintenance issues. Boss decided to come with me today to get my own ship and make sure that the rig I buy is able to work with it.
"Sweets, this is your ship. I am only holding your money for you. You have to do the talking." Boss says to me as we walk up to the main building at the Shipworks; as I reach for the door, his hand goes over mine, keeping me from opening it just yet. "Sweets, if things go bust, you can always come back. I know this is what you want, so I won't stop you. But its hard in the void for young lasses like yourself, even harder when you plan on going solo."
I smile up at his worried face, a long lock of his brown hair falling over his azure eyes as he talks to me.
"I know, Boss. If things look like they are going to go south, I'll contact the Crew."
He nods to my response, moving his hand, while apprehension is still painted across his features. I've been with his Crew long enough to know the tension in his shoulders is mostly from worrying about me from here on. It only relaxes a little when we go through the door.
"And stop calling me Boss. I've told you before, its John." he chides
"When you stop calling me Sweets, I'll stop calling you Boss." as long as I have known him, he has called me Sweets. I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now; but it is the callsign that I have had since the first time I was on communications with his crew, a position I have held for the last two years, and because all the traffic controllers in this area know me by that name, I get it all the time.
"I think it sounds better than Candy, and besides, even the controllers think it fits, it's you." he hands me a data card. "Which is why it's now your official salvager handle."
"You didn't?" I ask as a salesman walks up to the two of us.
"Not now, Sweets, you have work to do." he grins, knowing that I won't say anything to him while business is present. Making it more obvious that he timed handing me my official Salvager's Licence to just that moment.
The three of us spent the next four hours combing through every two and three-person ship within my budget, and never really found anything that stood out to me. As we walked back toward the sales house, I saw a four-person vessel that caught my eye.
It was obvious it was old, really old. It was a bit bigger than I was looking for, but what stood out to me was the shape of the cockpit. It was in the shape of an old military captain's yacht. I stopped walking as I looked at the ship, noticing that the frame lines were still intact, even though some systems were exposed. The vast majority of the life support, fuel cell, and engine compartment armor was still in place, the radiation shielding looked new, at least the bits that weren't covered by the scant sheeting covering the ship.
The salesman noticed where my eyes were focused, and I could see him get a grin. He thought he had this ship sold already.
"Miss, that ship is within the budget you named to me earlier; I didn't show it to you earlier because you stated you wanted only a three-person, or smaller, vessel," he said while wringing his hands in an obvious way.
"You're a bad liar," I said to him as I approached the ship. "The engines are still warm, this girl just came in," I said as I smelled the rich fuel vapor hanging around the ship.
After talking with him for thirty minutes, and doing a quick walkthrough of the ship, we decided to purchase it, and I managed to talk him down to the lower end of my budget. It took only minutes to attach the ship to my Salvager Licence so that my name wouldn't actually be attached to it. As lunchtime neared, I sat down in my cockpit for the first time, and Boss sat in the navigator's chair as we went back to his ship. The smell of mildew filled the cabin as the air circulated through the water filters, that obviously hadn't been changed in a while.
"Well, there is always something to fix onboard." Boss smiles at me.
"Boss, did you recognize the frame when I stopped?" I asked him as we lneared the pad next to Fuego, the ship I called home for the past few years. "Because I recognized it, which is why I had to have her." I grinned at him while keeping track of all of my monitors for a safe, but close, landing.
"No." he answered honestly, eyes fully on me.
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"This is a Captain's Yacht," I said honestly, sparing only a second to glance at his expression before returning to landing the ship. "Specifically, this design was only used for three years, five ships large enough to have a Captain's Yacht were built during the time frame that this design would have been used."
I could tell I had him. in all honesty, I remembered this design from history classes before I ran away. from the classes about the end of the Expansion War. The war we won, and the empire lost.
"This is an Empyrian Battleship's Captain's yacht from the Late years of the Expansion," I said to him. "One of those ships built is the famed Castle."
"You bought this thinking it might lead you to that wreck?" he asked.
"No, I bought this ship because it's bigger than I anticipated, was within my budget, and already has a salvager rig mounted to it." once the weight of the ship settled fully on the five landing feet, I looked him in the eyes. "and I love history."
"Sweets, if you don't paint this bubble-gum pink, I will have to smack you." he joked. It was his way of telling me that he knew I was lying.
"I doubt its Castle's Yacht, it could be Electra's, Rook's, or Pharoh's. The Ark, the only other ship built during that time frame still has it's original yacht."
"Isn't the Ark property of the King?" he asked me.
"It's property of the royal family," I confirmed. "I got to see it a couple times when I was a kid, it really has beautiful lines. I learned about those ships because of him," I slipped, but Boss didn't notice it, so I wasn't going to point it out.
"Well, let's get you packed up and supplied, we're gonna miss you kid. even though we all knew this day was here, it doesn't make it any easier."
Fuego's dining hall was more noisy than normal, and the food was better as well. Everyone was saying bye in their own way. A few of the other girls, Kat, the first officer, being the most energetic, helped me get my personal stuff onto my, yet unnamed ship, as well as put it away. as soon as my stuff was transferred, I was required by station security to evacuate the dock, otherwise the Fuego wouldn't be able to take off on time, and it would cause delays.
I take my new girl up to orbital height, set the auto course correction to maintain height above sea level. Two hours later, I hear Boss chattering to the traffic controllers over the yacht's speakers, which by protocol are all on at this height in case of an emergency broadcast.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, and fellow Scavengers;" he began in a showman's tone. "This is John, of Davidson's Crew. I would like to let everyone know, that our Communications Officer, Sweets, has joined the ranks of Scavengers, bought her own ship, and has taken to the skies on her own." chaff flairs could be seen launching all over the place in congratulations for me. I had seen it before, but never received the Scavenger's Salute. Boss, came back over the radio, in a more serious tone. "Please keep an eye out for her, and if I find out that a Scavenger has harmed her, they best have the backing of the military, because that is what it will take to keep me from coming after them."
It was my turn to respond, but I really didn't want to.
"Boss, this is Sweets." although I hated the callsign because it was now on my official paperwork, I had to use it. "I just thought I would tell you: I was right about the Yacht. I'll miss you guys, I am going to find a Ghost-ship." I said over the radio, launching my own chaff and flairs, the custom of someone leaving a crew to strike out on their own.
I rubbed the metal panel on the bottom of the dash for the little switch that I had once found on Ark's Yacht and flipped it. the auto course adjusted my pitch and attitude, and twenty minutes later I left Orbit of Frejer's second moon.
Just as I was leaving orbit, my shipboard messenger alerted me to a message, from John Davidson.
# Sweets,
#Please tell me that your yacht isn't Castle's.
#Please, Please tell me that you aren't going after THAT Ghostship.
#Boss
I quickly typed back a message before I could leave message range, and the message would get stored on the ships computer, until I came within range of a comm relay.
#Boss
#Auto-return activated, homing in on host ship.
#Host ship is most likely Castle, Nav says its 93 hours out.
#I'll let you know what ship I find.
#Candice Brighton
I knew sending my real name would get his attention, and I received his message just before I lost long-range communications.
#Sweets;
#Wait, you are THE Candice Brighton!
#Do you have any idea the reward for any information of your whereabouts is?
#Do you realize how much money we could have made by announcing you being sighted at various planets?
#Well Played Sweets, be careful hunting Ghost ships, and if its Castle, stay as far away from her as possible.
#John Davidson
Sorry Boss, I want to see her in person, even if she is fully picked clean, I want to actually see her.
I spend the next four days cleaning out each of the ship's water filters. The oxygen harmlessly bubbled through fresh clean water adding a bit of humidity to the air so that it wouldn't be so dry. surprisingly enough the galley was fully stocked and even had some things that I knew I hadn't paid for, as well as a few handwritten notes from the crew letting me know I could come back at any time. I hung them up on the walls of the room I claimed as my bedroom.
I started scrubbing the dirt and tar off the interior panels, hoping to clean up the yacht some, it's not like I have much else to do right now. but before I got very far, the alert tones for slowing down, and exiting hyperspace go off, and I make a mad dash to the cockpit.
I sit down just in time to see the plasma shield, that protects from debris while in hyperspace, fall away, and the scene in front of me is mindboggling.
The massive hulk of the ancient battleship Castle fills up my window. as I approach, lights start flickering on, like its welcoming its captain home, suddenly a tractor beam strikes my little ship, and I get pulled into a small pocket on the dorsal section of the ship that was obviously made specifically for the little yacht.
The obvious battle scars, the massive holes that had been cut through the hull with plasma cutters, the lack of any firepower from being stripped over the decades was very evident. but obviously, something was missed because the ship was powering on. which meant the electrical systems were mostly still intact, as were a lot of the lighting systems.
"New Captain Registered." I heard a woman's voice announce in the yacht's speakers. "New Captain registered as Candice 'Sweets' Brighton, First Princess of Tal Oz, currently first in line to the throne."
Well crap, at least nobody was here to hear that.
"Please never say that again. Refer to me simply as Candice, Candy, or Sweets. Ignore royal proclamation 126.4 dash B"
"Voiceprint ID verified, Marking 126.4-B as 'always ignore'. Welcome aboard Candice. would you like a status update?"
Castle might be a ghost ship, but she is working, well somewhat; let's find out what the damage really is.
"Give me a line item status, by priority," I say, giving her the order to list the status of the most important equipment to operation first.
"Yes, Candice." it always takes a second to organize the status lists, but it's expected.
"Line Item One: Auto Repair function: Active, functioning, repairing hull breaches only in areas between Yacht and bridge."
"Line Item Two: Auxilary batteries: Active, Compromised: 30% capacity, solar recharge underway."
"Line Item Three: Solar Array: Active, Compromised: 44% panels effective, 10% panels not found."
It went on like that for the next four hours, listening to each and everything wrong with the ship from hull breaches, to shield emitters down, lacking weaponry, to even lacking supplies to correct her own deficiencies.
"Castle, what should I call your onboard artificial intelligence?" I asked at the end of the list of things needing attention.
"I am the ship, the ship is me," she answers. "Error in date time code, correcting; correcting; corrected. Castle has been dormant for one hundred thirteen years, six months, twelve days, three hours, and six minutes. FTL communication acquired. Downloading ship recognition database. Completed. Downloading materials to upgrade the database. Completed. Located sister ship Ark. Permission to connect communication array to Ark?"
"Permission denied." I nearly shouted. "Do not attempt to ping Ark unless my life is in direct danger, and require immediate assistance." I managed a little more calmly.
"Understood."
It was going to be a long night.