The Stellar Wild - Chapter 3

When we last saw our fearless captain and his android co-pilot, they had reluctantly taken on a contract from a less-than-reputable contact in the government. Read on and find out what happens to them next!

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She disliked wearing United Terran Systems Naval utility uniforms. She very rarely ever had to wear them - generally only when she was travelling with Marines as part of a military-intel joint operation - and she was thankful for that, so why she'd been told to put one on today was beyond her. Functionally, they were serviceable; they had two chest pockets, a shoulder pocket on each upper arm, and a stay-flat collar that never popped up from the seam along the back of the collar. The cargo pockets on the trousers were also lay-flat pockets, with a fair amount of expansion room. The muted olive color reinforced the fact that these were utility uniforms. Thankfully the female variants were cut closer at the waist; she'd only had to make due with a male variant once, and, despite being the proper size, it looked like she was wearing a green trash bag.

To take her mind off of it, she was reviewing her mission brief over and over again in her head. It seemed simple enough: intercept the transport that they'd lost contact with, board it, and ascertain the state of its cargo. If it was simply a communications issue, the crew would thank her and be on their way. However, given the length of time they'd been in radio silence, it was likely the second scenario that she'd be dealing with: figure out what happened to the crew. The internal surveillance logs would provide her that information. Once the cargo was secured and transferred to the contractor ship the UTS had hired, they'd bring it back to Naval Intelligence Division's black site on the edge of the Nether, near to wear they had planned to deploy it in the first place. Simple, straightforward, and a perfect assignment to spruce up her lieutenant commander's jacket for promotion, her commander had told her.

All of which made her wonder why in the hell they had opted for the cloak-and-dagger routine in the first place. It wouldn't be the first time the UTSN had sent a detachment after a transport vessel broke contact. Pirates were a constant problem in that part of the galaxy, so it was assumed that it would happen from time to time. Granted, it happened near Kirauthi space, but she didn't see how that made a difference. All the Monarchy ever did was rattle their saber at the Galactic Union about seceding because of this perceived slight or that aggressive action by the UTS. If she could draw a historical parallel, North Korea's foreign relations with the United States in Earth's 21st century history was as perfect as any. They complained, often and loudly, but they were quick to let it go once concessions were made. They still controlled some of the most resource-rich mining planets in the Union, so the rest of the member organizations had to just grin and bear it.

"I'm sure these no-name contractors are going to be consummate professionals, too," she muttered, staring out at the rain from under the covered loading area adjacent the landing pads. She checked the holographic data assistant on her wrist. They should be landing any minute, assuming they were on time. Sure enough, as soon as she turned her eyes back to the cloud-covered skies above Krixus, the Hound began to make its descent toward the landing pad she was standing nearest to. Curb-side service, she mused, reaching down to grab her pack as the oblong, vaguely bullet-shaped cargo freighter landed on the slick asphalt.

The Hound lurched forward as Cole cut the maneuvering thrusters, depositing the ship on its landing feet. As was his custom, he gave it about five seconds before he unbuckled his harness and slid out of the captain's chair. Edward shook his head and hit the switch to lower the boarding ramp behind them. The way the ramp was set up made it exceptionally easy to run at full sprint into the ship from outside and land in the pilot's seat within two strides. It was something both he and Edward had taken advantage of when bounties were less than willing to cooperate and happened to be heavily defended, too.

"You realize that, statistically speaking, if the landing arms were to fail, they would fail the moment that a load was placed on them," he remarked to Cole, unbuckling himself from his chair and standing up. Cole scoffed.

"It never hurts to be safe about it; the Hound's almost as old as you are, and it isn't nearly in as good a shape. Now c'mon," he said, zipping up his worn leather jacket as he made his way down the ramp, "we have a hefty payday just waiting to be collected." Edward let out a sound approximating a sigh as he fell into step behind Cole, earning a look over the fearless captain's shoulder. "I heard that, you."

Lieutenant Commander Miranda Rackham ducked her head down as she left the shelter of the extended awning, jogging briskly across the open ground that separated the UTSN forward post facility from the landing pad. As she neared the Hound, she realized that it wasn't actually a cargo freighter; that's what those two that were making their way down the ramp used it for, no doubt, but really it was a decommissioned Chieftan-class corvette. It had been modified, but the flight deck on the top and the underslung command deck were unmistakable. They took the last one out of service nearly a century ago, she mused, narrowing her eyes against the rain. If she had some free time she'd have to find out what the original designation of this particular vessel was back when it was in service.

Cole came to a stop under the protective bulk of his ship, looking out at the figure hustling toward them across the asphalt. He'd expected some pencil-necked, bespectacled kid who was barely strong enough to carry a daypack behind him. Instead, he was presented with a fairly tall woman, her hair cut in a short bob, and a determined look on her face. She had no name tape on her uniform, nor any rank insignia, so he had no idea how to address her, but he decided that this was going to be significantly more enjoyable than transporting some snot-nosed teenager. Edward fell in beside him as he donned a smile.

"Good evening, ma'am. My name is Joshua Cole and this is my co-pilot Edward. We're going to be your ri-" he started, before she abruptly cut him off, cutting her stride to a confident march.

"We need to be gear up in five minutes. I'll stow my things in a spare bunk while you get underway," she replied curtly, walking past both of them and heading up the ramp with nothing less than utter disdain. Cole just stood there for a second, blinking. Never been shot down that quick before, he thought. Edward looked back over his shoulder to the ramp, then back to Cole.

"I like her," he remarked, his tone chipper and excited. "She's going to be great company on this trip." He turned and walked back up the ramp before Cole could retort. With a resigned sigh, he turned and made his way back up the ramp, punching the button to raise it as he settled back into the pilot chair, prepping the ship for take off.