Space Trippers Book 1: Trippin' (14 page)

“No.” the Virrilian replied, trying to hold back her increasingly quick temper. “First I need to get something to eat.” she said, just as her stomach gave out another low growl. “I am getting very hungry, and believe me Captain; you wouldn’t like me when I am hungry.” she finished with a very menacing grin.

The Captain suddenly felt like she now knew what a deer in the crosshairs felt like as she unconsciously stepped back from the intimidating Virrilian. As she recalled, they had a very high protein metabolism, and therefore hunted and ate a lot of meat.

“Food first.” she quickly agreed. “In fact, I think we should all take a nice dinner break and then we can get back to work full force.” the agitated Captain continued as she smoothed back her hair and started to turn to leave the room.

“Ensign Sanic, I would then like you to finish instructing the twins here about the operation of their control panels, if that is at all possible.

In addition, when you are finished with that perhaps you can look into the inoperable state of the shields and weapons systems. And Miss Valesque,” she said addressing the Virrilian she was retreating from, trying not to say anything upsetting in her present condition, “we shall leave the engine problem in your hands. I expect you all to report to me with any progress by the end of the night shift. That is all, carry on.”

And with that she made a hasty departure as she headed towards the Hydro-lifts, her Second in Command in tow.

Sanic then turned to Valesque, as they too made their way to the other side of the deck to catch the Hydro-lifts.

“Well, thanks to you we have a dinner break. Where do you want to go?

Would you like to go up to the Star deck? I hear the menu programs in the food duplicators are really good, and the scenery from the windows up there is amazing.” he suggested, trying not to stumble on his words as he realized he was asking her to dinner.

Valesque’s mind was preoccupied, and stopping for dinner was not on her agenda.

“No thanks, Sanic. I can’t right now. I'll just get my usual from the duplicator in my lab. I have a few things I need to do before the Captain gets too insistent on those engines.”

“Oh, right.” the young Ensign muttered in disappointment. “Besides you know all about the duplicator’s menus and the view from the Star Deck already. You made them, right?” he said trying to sound more cheerful.

“It did turn out pretty well up there. It's one of my favorite places on the ship. Maybe, if I get some time later, I can give you the tour and show you some of it's more subtle features.” she suggested, seeing his forlorn look.

Sanic brightened at her suggesting they meet later. “Okay.” he said, his spirits high again. “I will look forward to your insider’s tour. Now I guess I better get something quick and get back to work down here. I think educating the twins might be a long and exhausting task!” he laughed as they reached their respective Hydro-lifts.

Sanic stood before the left lift doors and Valesque who was going down to her lab stood next to him at the right lift doors.

“Well, this is where we part. I really enjoyed the tour of the Solar Deck.” he commented quickly as both their doors opened. “You will have to tell me more about how you came up with some of the designs, especially the Light Core later.” he finished hurriedly giving Valesque a parting grin as they both stepped into their respective lifts and the doors hissed shut.

As soon as the automatic doors on the Hydro-lift closed, Sanic let out a long sigh, relaxing his jangled nerves.

At least I finally asked her, he thought to himself as he looked at his reflection in the mirror-like finish of the polished steel doors.

From his short, muscular build and tan skin, to the ends of his spiked, blonde-tipped hair, he looked like a true Etherian. If only he could act it, he thought, and then he could talk to his dream girl freely, with no anxiety.

But the self assured Pilot acted more Etherian than he did, he sighed.

Then… she had not seemed to take any interest in Lieutenant Baine, he brightened at the reflection.

And she hadn’t really turned down his invitation, at least not technically.

Moreover, he was actually on the same ship with her, stuck in a confined area in the middle of space. He could see her anytime he wanted and talk face to face with her, he reminded himself.

There would always be another chance, he smiled, as the now determined Etherian looked straight back at him from the surface of the Hydro-lift doors.

Chapter Five: Springing The Trap

General Gorbok sat in his darkened office on the upscale side of Saturna 3.

Around him flickered numerous floating screens, each illuminated with different information.

Some showed personnel records, some departure logs, others displayed various star charts and the locations of deployed military craft.

The aging Military Officer seemed to be focusing on one screen in particular; on it a small blip moved steadily towards Corseccan Space.

The tough old General gave a slow menacing grin as he watched the ship moving away. His plan had succeeded. The scientific vessel I.S.A Magellan had been seized and sent out on its emergency mission.

Now all that remained was to set the last piece in motion, before finishing the paperwork, and all his troubles would be over.

His troubles, he groaned, all his troubles starting and ending with that little Virrilian inventor and her stubborn non-acquiescence to Military requests.

He had dealings with her indirectly and directly for many years.

Fresh out of Galactic University when she went into development of the Space Tripper and refused to sell the plans to the I.P.A, sticking with her sickening morals and desire to please her people.

Fodder, all that useless sentimentality.

Throwing away good field research possibilities under complaints of the possible harm to the test subjects.

Her brilliant mind wasted on useless household gadgets and engine thrusters.

He had offered her the chance of a lifetime, to be on his winning team.

But it was fine, he got over it.

He found a better way, a simpler way to reach his goal.

Then she ended up in his own backyard, building her streamlined, ultra-mechanized, ultra-powerful ship. Equipped with, from what his spies had gathered, the most advanced weapons system in the galaxy. Foursquare firing power, four oscillating shields. The thing was impenetrable.

It was perfect, but she would not let him have it.

He had tried to persuade her, to get her genius and her magnificent design on his side, but she was so stubbornly pigheaded.

Hating the Military. Hating the pure pursuit of power and dominance over the entire universe.

Simple girl.

She called him ‘General Warlord’, he chuckled, she did not know the half of it.

She even had a restraining order on him!

But he got it in the end.

Her precious ship that could make or break all his dreams.

That solid chunk of shimmering metal that could be wedged right in the middle of all his great plans.

That menace of a miracle the ‘Magellan’, and its creator would not be a thorn in his side for much longer, he sneered.

With that satisfying thought, the coarse old man turned his chair towards a new screen that illuminated in an open space before him as he swiveled his seat.

“Connect me with the Intergalactic Police Force Vessel 1119036 on a secured wave.” he commanded the newly arrived screen.

It was time to put the last pawn into action.

“I.P.F 1119036 Call name: Black Viper at your service, Sir.” the sharp salutation began as the connection was made with the requested ship.

The General’s old heart swelled, the sharp, smart, respectful addresses, the unfaltering loyalty, the strict adherence to I.P.A rules of do what you are told, ask no questions; you had to love it.

“I have special orders for you and your ship, Captain.” the calculating man began in his deep booming voice. “A ship launched from here just three days ago, that ship is on route to the Corseccan Galaxy. I wish for you to intercept.”

“Yes, Sir.” the strict young Captain replied as he checked his screens. “I have a ship located answering to that description. The vessel is the I.P.A Vortex, launched three days ago from Saturna 3. Awaiting your orders, General, Sir.”

The weathered face smiled calmly. “I wish for a viper intercept of the Vortex.” he said simply.

“Yes, Sir.” came the obedient reply. “We have a viper strike order for the target. How many pod retrievals?”

“None. This is a full strike order.” his superior said unemotionally.

“Yes, Sir. But…” the young man hesitated, “isn't Captain Fairbanks in command of that vessel, Sir? Are you sure you wish a full destroy?”

“The loss will be regrettable.” the hardened man replied.

“There is to be no record of this order. Black Viper 1110936 will be put under cover on all Military charts until returning to its assigned sector after the mission. All records will show the ship was attacked by an enemy Virrilian vessel outside the war zone.”

“Yes, Sir. Is the General sure Black Viper can handle the kill alone? We heard that ship has a superior weapons system and impenetrable shields.” the I.P.F Officer questioned respectfully.

“One ship will be sufficient. Do not expect the ship to either hail or respond. It will not attempt to return fire.” the General assured him. “These orders are top priority, to be carried out immediately. Report to me on the secure wave when the strike has been completed. That is all.” he finished coldly.

“Yes, General, Sir. We will move to strike right away.” the Captain replied in sharp military fashion.

“End secured wave, delete all trace logs.” the General commanded the screen before him as the video feed from the Viper flashed off.

The man now turned back towards the other screens that still hovered in the air around him.

One last thing to be done.

He called up the screen showing personnel files.

A picture of Captain Fairbanks along with her military record was still displayed on the screen.

“A regrettable, but necessary loss.” he repeated as he added one last detail to her file before flipping unemotionally to the next record.

“Timothy Baine…..the time I spent on that boy. Wasted effort, good riddance.” he muttered as he added one last line to the Pilot’s record.

He moved quickly through the rest of the files, useless space trash most of them.

Worthless fodder, best cleaned out of the gene pool.

He paused again when he got to the last record. Seeing the smiling face of the Virrilian Engineer made his crinkled old face smirk.

Valesque Rhaugh, no longer would she be a threat to him or a hindrance to his plans.

But it was thanks to her that he could get rid of the whole bad lot in one clean sweep; her, that ship and all the failures that had been dragging him down.

Just one last bad mark to add to her record, he thought amusingly to himself as he scrolled down to the bottom of her file to add in the last line, the same as everyone else’s.

‘Killed in action 05 15 2538 in the Corseccan war against the Virrilians. Died with honor.’

Chapter Six: Deadline

Valesque sat in her room attaching a tiny wire onto a gadget she was holding under a magnification glass.

On the table around her were strewn pieces of wiring in various lengths and gauges, miscellaneous screws, clamps and bottles containing various chemicals and lubricants.

She was carefully wrapping the end of a thin gauge wire and tightening down the tiny screw that would hold it in place as her mind wandered over her growing list of concerns.

She was going to need a way of grounding her body to the ship, so she could work with the Space Tripper without any risk of shock to the system or it could trigger the device. But more importantly, she needed a way to tap onto the Space Trippers feeders and leach the power away from the circuits she wanted to disconnect, without the Space Tripper noticing any power fluctuations.

She didn’t have time to draw up plans or test prototypes. She just had to make it up in her head as she went, trusting her intuition and experience to get her by.

The Engineer’s room was actually one of the larger scientific labs on Science Deck 3, two floors below the Med-room. She had set it up as a makeshift apartment and workroom. One small corner of the large open space taken up with a washroom, food duplicator, a tall upright locker to hold the few clothes she had brought with her, a small low-to-the-floor sofa and the brushed silver table and chair she was currently seated at.

Along with these few comforts, she had also brought over from her apartment her entire collection of vintage posters and books, which she always kept near her.

It was modest and a bit sterile looking, but it was only supposed to be temporary as she worked on her projects for the Magellan’s construction.

Not that she planned to move up to a regular room, but she had intended to eventually make half of this extra large lab into comfortable living quarters.