The Sea Stallion Book 1: Not a Real Starship Captain

The Sea Stallion Book 1: Not a Real Starship Captain

Chapter 1 - Aether Pilot

There are two unbreakable rules of The Bazaar – No Loaded Weapons, and No Counterfeit Credits.

“One credit.” The entrance guard had a loaded weapon, and it wasn’t set to stun. Cal held out his hand, palm up showing the entrance stamp from earlier today.

“Humph,” the guard grunted and Cal was through into the babble of the Great Hall. Row after row of stalls, each row signed in a square type of lettering that had once been the height of style. Drives, Thrusters, Navigation, Power, Food, Beings, Medical, Real Estate, Freight. His freight deal already organised, he pushed his way toward the line under the Beings sign. This narrow row seemed even louder, every trader trying to out-yell his competition.

“Cylindian Minx only six hundred today for you sir,” a trader furtively whispered close to Cal’s ear. “Ten to choose from.” The trader’s hand now touching Cal’s side. “Keep you warm in those cold nights.” Cal shook his body. “Very friendly she is. And that so-soft fur...” The shaking finally dissuading the unwelcomed hand. He’d only been in this part of the Bazaar twice before in his lifetime, and both those times he needed a good long shower after.

A Galaxy of sentient lifeforms in one room. Slaves and free and all for sale in one way or form, but Cal didn’t have time to explore, he knew exactly what he wanted. The GalaxyWideWeb said ninety-nine point eight percent of Aether Pilots seeking employment were on Imperial Prime, but that left point two percent somewhere in this place, and his research had settled on only one, and her name was Mia.

In any other place she would have stood out.

Pressing forward, feeling alien limbs and arms and tentacles rubbing his body in ways that would not be acceptable in polite circles. Searching both sides for a glimpse of that blue hue, the skin tint those who followed the aether path developed. Maybe this line was wrong. Someone of her ability and looks wouldn’t mingle with these sorts of traders.

Half an hour of pressing through the crowds and being jostled on all sides until he saw her. Pale blue skin, silver hair down over her shoulders, and black piercing eyes. Clearing his throat twice, but that hardly moistened the dryness, then summoning his most confident voice, he approached. “You have to be Mia.”

“And you’re the King of the Palides system I suppose.” At least she held his gaze while he felt his legs might lose their ability to keep him upright.

“A shipment of drilling spares with you in complete charge of navigation.” He was determined to keep his approach light, yet still project the aura of being in charge.

“Crew?” she snapped.

“Me.” He was still peering into her eyes, and she hadn’t flinched.

“Fifty percent,” she said instantly, then added, “Before I move from here.”

“For half you’ll need to be my wife, and even then you won’t get your cut until I get paid.”

“I’m not looking for an anchor.”

Her eyes flicked down a moment, and he knew. His legs stopped shaking and his mouth seemed like it could speak again. “I won’t be an anchor, and there’s a priest before the exit my love.”

“Just this one trip sonny.”

But her tone had softened, and he knew he had her. “Do you need to get any luggage?” Now he was desperately trying to keep the excitement from his voice. His research had paid off. Forty-three days she’d sat there without a job. Something about one of the wrecks out on the plain being her fault, and whispers of her being extremely difficult, and of her always being alone. That was why she hadn’t asked about the ship or the fee. But then they had the same birth year, and she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “Let me lead you by your hand and take you away from all this, my love.”

“Business only,” she spat, but as he reached for her hand, she didn’t pull away until her fingers had begun to curl over his. Hardly remembering the trip back through the Great Hall and then through the security point where he was sure the guard gave him a look of envy as he passed with Mia by his side. Then striding confidently on the long walk through the landing site toward his ship, feeling more powerful with every step. This was his home, and she was the woman he wanted to share it with.

“The Sea Stallion!” The first words Mia uttered since they’d left the Great Hall. “Is that your idea of a juvenile joke.”

“The name my craft was built with. The Sea referring to the sea of aether. She was one of the first of the great aether battlecruisers of the Imperial Empire.” They were standing on the landing before the main hatch, the ship name fashioned from raised brass letters. Letters he kept polished till they gleamed.

“I’m surprised the museum sold this antique.” Mia’s head was turning left and right, following the sleek lines of the vessel, all as perfect as the day it was made.

“Fully refitted two hundred years ago. Wait till you see inside. It’s tradition that I carry you over the threshold.”

“That’s not my tradition,” she said, striding toward the hatchway, one hand out for her blue fingers to brush over that polished brass. “The freight loaded?” she added, almost as an afterthought.

“Loaded, secured and ready to fly. Straight ahead.”

“I know the way,” she said, pacing forward, but her tone was softer now, and one hand was out with her fingers caressing parts of the ship they could reach.

By modern standards it might be advertised as a family weekend runabout, but when it was built, five hundred and twenty years ago, The Sea Stallion was an Imperial Empire Battle Cruiser. The last word in speed, security, and dependability. The biggest thrusters for a craft of its size. The fastest aether drive then built, and the most powerful suite of weapons then known, although those weapons had been removed when it was converted to freight. Cal followed close behind and caught her intake of breath as she surveyed the control room for the first time. “They don’t make them like this anymore, do they?” he said.

Her gaze locked onto the main couch that dominated the room. Large and deeply padded. Each side an arm rest, the sides covered with screens and controls, and at the end of each rest, the control joysticks. The pilot’s couch. Her control seat.

Directly ahead was the wide curved view-port. Toughened and tinted and thick enough to survive a major meteor strike, and still perfectly clear and unmarked after all these years.

His Captain’s chair was behind hers, and with many fewer screens. To the left was what was once the weapons station. Now it was mainly blanked over, with only some knobs for the lower level protection screens left visible. And to the right was the engineer’s station. So many knobs and gauges and screens that he had only managed to learn enough to let him make the thrusters go and stop as needed.

“Navigation,” she called out loudly.

“No voice control yet.” Cal touched the screen on the engineer’s console and the big screen to the right of the front view-screen lit up. “Settings on your screens.” The big left screen still blank, it had once been for weapons targeting.

She touched the surface of the pilot’s chair rather than sit. “Real leather,” he said softly. “Built to last.”

When she cautiously sat, the automatic system took over, and he watched her face smile a little for the first time as the couch moulded itself perfectly into her body, and the pilot’s control screens turned to be in correct alignment for her sight. “Delivery details coming now,” he said as the data transferred from his terminal to her main screen.

Her practised fingers glided over the nav control screen making the star patten on the main screen race to match her commands. Left hand on the joystick, the star pattern twisted up and down and then she added the aether grid pattern and muttered, “two sharp bends… grav well… hard bend to end…” The pattern was stable when she asked, “Time affected payment I see.”

“Ten thousand if we get there in two days.”

“Beat that easy. Pull out high and drop in late. Not even a day. They should pay more.”

“I’d heard you were the best,” he said. “We make a formidable pair.”

Her head jerked around. “So what’s your formidable part of this job,” she sneered.

“Getting the best pilot in the Galaxy for my ship,” he shot back.

“Well stop congratulating yourself and finalise landing clearance so I can light this antique up.”

Hardly into the lowest orbit belt and Mia’s hands were all over the aether drive controls. The hum of the coils that circled the whole craft ringing louder and louder. He at least knew they were supposed to wiggle the atoms of everything nearby enough to loosen there grip in the aether field, as well as keep the atoms together enough so the ship didn’t disintegrate, but that was about the limit of his knowledge. Well, other than only women could be aether pilots because only women had enough empathy to blend with the field and caress it where they chose, and the better the pilot, the faster the craft travelled. An exceptional pilot could cross the span of the entire Galaxy in hours, a great pilot in a day, but most took nearly a week.

“Did your last pilot say about the loose coils?”

“I’ve never had a pilot, but it passed its registration.”

“Spend your cut on an engineer, laddie.”

Then the hum became a raucous din, and the mainly black view out the window turned pale blue, the same shade as Mia’s skin, and his body felt like he was resting on jello, and he knew that for the first time in his own ship, he was travelling millions times faster than light. All that was left for him now was to lay back and wait, the fate of the whole ship was completely in her hands.

The din eased well before he expected. Then the main screen was back to looking nearly normal and the view out the front view-port showed a red-brown coloured planet hanging in a background of black.

“These charts are so old it’s hard to be absolute, but that should be NG933371P4.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. “You check for the exact landing site while I get these thrusters burning again.”

“Coordinates sent to your screen,” he said, hearing his own voice sounding nearly as excited as her. She ignited the thrusters on full. His seat wasn’t as conformal as hers, his back strained under the forces.

“Arrival within thirty,” she called. “Comm them to get ready.”

He did exactly that, Cyrus Mining answering in seconds, tinge of surprise in their tone as though they hadn’t expected such a quick delivery, with voices in the background calling out to get ready for the freight. “They’re sending the co-ords of the exact delivery point now. To you as it comes.”

The scanner showed the landing site was not very public or very official, really only a levelled pad between two lines of hills. Not even a marker. The only indication it was the precise place was a bright yellow mining carryall trundling toward the clearing, a plume of dust trailing in its wake. Hope they have the windows close when we land.

Mia did a perfect landing, easing down gently to minimise the dust, while he made for the cargo bay, lowering the ramp before untying the secure cargo pod. The only indication of its contents were on the pod screen – Cyrus Mining - Drilling Spares. He was still untying the last strap when that yellow carryall stopped only a few paces from the end of the ramp.

In the freight business there are two points when things can go fatally wrong, and delivery handover was the biggest one. Cal made sure his blaster was easy to get to, and waited for the receiver to make the next move.

Nothing happened. Nothing moved.

Looking left and right beyond that stationary carryall, but no sign of anything else moving. Time for his next move. He pushed the button to lift the ramp, the grinding of the big gears the only sound. Sight of the carryall decreasing as the ramp lifted. Just before that yellow roof dropped behind view of the end of the ramp something came out, an arm held out toward him. Stopping the ramp, Cal reversed it enough to see more of the yellow helmet approaching. “Told to pick up some freight,” the helmet said loudly.

“You got the receipt code?” He’d been burnt on that before, but only once.

“They only said to pick up a pod.”

The hum and crackle of plasma thrusters warming up vibrated through the floor and then a metallic voice filled the hold. “Unexpected traffic approaching from the rear.” It was definitely Mia’s voice through the ship’s hailing system. “Preparing for emergency departure.”

The helmet turned and bolted toward the carryall, and Cal pushed the button to fully raise and seal the ramp, not bothering tying the freight, the gravity floor would do that. They were airborne before he reached the control room. “You did great,” he yelled over the whine of thrusters being overloaded.

“I’ll orbit while we sort it out,” she said turning to watch him. “These thrusters need work too.”

He’d only ever used the thrusters, and they worked good enough for him. “I’ll report this attempted delivery and time stamp it so they can’t back out. I’ve had this before. They’re only trying to delay to pay less.”

This time it was a long delay before his call to Cyrus Mining answered. He decided to play it polite. “I understand that maybe not all your staff understood that my ship is dedicated solely to your priority freight. In fact, we only loaded your pod this morning, and since then have moved it halfway across the Galaxy. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to delay us any more after that exceedingly prompt service. Maybe you can direct us to a delivery site that is ready to process the transaction as fast as we processed the transport.”

He saw Mia grinning at him while they waited for someone to reply.

“Receiving department is now closed for the day, but we’ll get our best man on the job in the morning. We’ll comm a site and time then.”

“We’ll wait. No extra charges for overnight, however priority rates still apply as per the contract.”

With the ship in a holding orbit, there was only one more thing left to do. Re-secure the load. Not from moving, but from undoing. Usually the ship’s crew had no control of the pod’s functioning, and it was possible for a distant command to open the pod door and release who-knows-what into the ship. He always tied those pods together very securely. No one, or thing, was getting into his ship unannounced.

“There’s not much accommodation here, is there?” Mia said when he returned, freight safe again.

“I’ve been living back here,” Cal pointed to the rear wall of the control room where he had a large bed arranged alongside a storage cabinet used for his clothes. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Was it ever his lucky day! She was moving toward him with her left arm held up, ready for him to hold and sweep her into his arms. Only her hand was lifting higher and stopping almost in front of his eyes.

And there it was.

“I’m sorry,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster. It was not a fashion these times, but some still had it. A thin gold marriage ring nestled deep in the flesh of her finger. “I’ve been crass before. Will you forgive me?”

“Forgiven,” she said curtly, but she was still looking into his eyes. “But I will rest with you. I like being close to work. But I mean only rest.”

He nodded. “The kitchen is partly supplied, I’ll have to get the things you like later.” She’d been right before. He’d been acting juvenile while calling himself a Captain.

Partly undressed, he lay on the bed, and she copied, lying with her back toward him, then wriggling until her body nestled into him. He couldn’t help but rest an arm over her side, and found one of her hands gripping his and dragging it around her, resting on her middle. Sleep was impossible while the warmth of her body against him thrilled. She was still, her breathing calm and even, while he watched the points of light through the main view-port and tried hard not to kiss the back of her silver hair laying right in front of him. In one way, the hours dragged. In another, he wished the time never ended.

“You better get up, they’ll be calling soon.” She was walking around the control room looking as bright as a button. “Your turn in the bathroom.” Maybe a shower would shock him awake, but it didn’t. Even after breakfast he still felt like a limp lettuce. “I enjoyed last night. I see why you like making here your life.”

“If I was being a selfish kid, I would invite you to make it your life too.”

“If a Captain asked me, I might even accept.” He looked right into her eyes and she quickly added, “Slow down Romeo.”

“I invite you to make your home on this ship here with me,” Cal said carefully and deliberately. “And I accept that you are not my wife.”

“Your invitation is accepted with one stipulation.” She paused and from across the room locked her eyes directly on his and added, “I stay as your crew and you are my Captain. Nothing more.”

“I propose an amendment to your stipulation. That if we both agree, that stipulation can be removed.”

“Accepted,” she said brightly. “We should shake on it.”

They did, and the warmth of her palm into his thrilled more than it should, and she was holding her grip well beyond the time he would. It took the chime of the comm to break. “The Sea Stallion. Captain here.” Mia ran for her console, tapping the coordinates as they were called out. “Delivery in thirty-eight minutes. Receipt code available on site.”

“It’s still dark at that site,” Mia said as soon as the comm link closed. “No buildings close on your old charts either.”

“Get us there Pilot. Maybe arrive exactly on the time if you can. And there’s a blaster in that box.” Cal pointed and she nodded.

A slow gliding descent, letting the minutes lazily pass while his heart rate increased. The memory of the warmth of her touch still exciting, hiding the tiredness but clouding his thinking as well.

“One minute. Landing site clear apart from two vehicles.” Her voice sounding official, as though she was controlling a large battleship.

She was flying the approach so gentle it was easy for him to move to the freight hold, and half the ties were off the freight pod before the ship touched the ground.

“Two men approaching,” she said through the hailer, so he pushed the button to lower the ramp as the crackle of the thrusters wound down.

“Your priority freight gentleman,” Cal said loudly toward the two men as they came into sight of the light spilling out the hold. “You ready to confirm the codes?”

One lifted an arm showing the terminal in his hand, and Cal waved an arm to beckon him into the hold. Still saying nothing, the stranger went directly to the pod control screen and entered the access codes. Sometimes at this point, the receiver would open the pod to verify the contents, but he only accessed the movement controls and elevated the pod ready to move.

“My terminal,” Cal said, holding his terminal up. Still without saying anything, the stranger pointed his terminal at Cal’s, and it beeped as the receipt code transferred successfully. “Need help with moving?”

Apparently not. The man without the terminal had taken charge of the pod and was guiding it down the ramp.

Nice doing business with you,” Cal said as both men followed the pod out onto the bare dirt surrounding. Time to get the ramp up and get out of there.

Back in a parking orbit, Cal checked the freight note and then his credit account. Mia came to look over his shoulder and she saw the receipt for ten thousand. She also saw that five thousand of that was already transferred out. “Your terminal,” Cal asked, and as she held it out he transferred the remaining five thousand into her account.

“Paying for the ship,” she said as Cal’s account read only two credits. Only enough to get them both back into The Bazaar.

“Fifty percent of all I earn until it’s paid.”

“Well let’s get moving and find another job to pay it off quicker.”

She had the ship speeding through the aether before he’d really settled into his Captain’s chair.