Archive for category World’s Together

Mission Creep – Tighten the Screws

The story continues, taking up where Mission Creep – The Dance left off:

“No rush. As I said, no one’s watching out for me at my modest room.”

This was getting better by the moment. “It’ll take a little longer, but we can avoid the crush by heading this way to my car.”

“You’re such a considerate gentleman.”

The side route he led her through still contained too many prying eyes for him to get closer to this gem. Played right this could only heighten the desire she’s sending his way. To keep up appearances, he quizzed her on basic aspects of Stellar Dynamics.

She faultered in her rudimentary answer to his last question when they approached the sportiest car on the lot. He’d paid a lot of money to elicit that response from the ladies. And from the men who could only be jealous of his prowess for that matter. Bright red. Low slung. Every line said speed. And money. And comfort. The average person could never tell this machine from an actual super-car.

His remote caused the passenger door to rise as he led her around the sleek nose. “What do you think of my little rocket?”

She looked at him. “This is really yours?”

“Every last gram of luxury power. Take a look at where you’ll be sitting.”

The body molded seat sat so low she’d be more comfortable, and more enticing, leaning back the way he had it preset. As the driver he didn’t have quite as much freedom but plenty of time behind the wheel had helped him get even that just right. His one regret, the centre consule made cuddling a challenge.

“I get to ride in there?”

“You certainly do.” A little gallentry always did the trick at this moment. “Give me your hand and I’ll help you in.”

“I don’t–”

“Come now, how often do you get a chance to try out a ride like this?”

She looked from him to the car. “I’ve never even been this close to such a car before.”

“And you’re about to get closer. Please, climb in.”

She accepted his hand and slid in with a litheness that promised so much more. He lowered the door while she explored the comforts within and hurried around to take his seat.

***

I envision completing this story in 2 to 3 more segments. This raises the question: Do I continue posting them here before bringing them together in a polished final work or hold them back until it’s done? The comments below is your one and only chance to have a say in my decision.

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Mission Creep – The Dance

This is the follow up to my Mission Creep, A Beginning post, filling in a few more of the details that lead to my original Plot Bunny Escape event:

A squad of muscle bound athletics blocked his view.

She wasn’t there when they moved on.

By the door. She’d stopped to flash another smile his way. Their gazes met. She slipped outside.

He abandoned his coffee.

The promenade proved almost as busy as the cafe. He couldn’t see her anywhere. A flash of just the right shade of violet across the tree lined medium. He had her headed to a side walkway. One that didn’t lead anywhere popular, and would be relatively quiet at this time of day.

Around a corner past a flowering bush in desperate need of trimming, she stood beside a gentle fountain finishing off the last of her roll. A pleasing blush flushed her cheeks. Or maybe a touch of what am I doing? So much the better.

Time to make his move. “Excuse me, Ms?”

She wiped her hands on a cloth taken from a back pocket. An exotic beauty from head to toe. “Sheila.”

“Sheila. That’s a pretty name. I’m Marcus, Doctor Marcus Orling, at your service.”

“Doctor Orling? The Doctor Orling? Who wrote that paper on refinements to threshold detection limits?”

This could be easier than he hoped. “The same. Haven’t I seen you around the Stellar Dynamics section? Is that how you discovered my work?”

She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. She felt undeserving of his attention. He moved a little closer. “I’m not faculty. You can treat me as just another man on campus.”

“Just another man on campus? You? I’m honored you even noticed an outsider like myself. There are so few of us, and, so many of you locals keep your distance.”

He touched her forearm, which she didn’t pull away. “Come now. You read my opus. Not many students can say the same. That makes you special in my eyes.”

Her shoulders slumped. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” He moved a little closer.

She wouldn’t look at him. “I know of your work, but I’ll be lucky to just continue my studies long enough to make sense of the basics.”

Another clue he could make use of. “I can’t offer this to just any student, but one who knows my work enough to recognise me?”

This time she touched him. “Offer what?”

“I like you Sheila. There’s a spunk about you that could blossom under the right conditions.” It had been a while, but oh the possibilities if he could get her to see him as a mentor. “I can’t promise it will work out, but I can offer a little tutoring. Enough to pass your exams. If you are willing to put in the effort to make it worth both our whiles .”

“You would do that far me? A complete stranger?”

“We all start out as strangers. It’s what we do after meeting that determines where it goes from there.” He puffed out his chest at having come up with such a profound statement at a time like this.

She ran a hand down his arm. “No ones ever been so generous to me. Without better grades I might not even be allowed to continue my studies. I can work hard. You’ll see.”

Her hand had not lifted from his arm. So close. Would she agree to the next step?

“I have a couple hours free right now. My lab is off limits to students, but I only live a short distance from here. I could evaluate where you are right now.”

She blanched. “Your place? Now? Wouldn’t that–”

“You forget, I’m not faculty, and it’ll be quick. Enough to let us know if a more formalised arrangement should be entered into.” He turned his arm to take her hand. “No promises. No commitments. We can sound each other out, and take it from there ”

She touched his chest with her other hand. “There’s no one waiting for me at home, and my parents will be so hurt if I get sent home after all they did to get me here.”

Yes. “Then it’s settled. I even promise to take you home when the evaluation is over.”

 

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Mission Creep, A Beginning

I have officially dubbed this plot bunny Mission Creep. This scene happens a short time before the action depicted in my previous blog post.

Enjoy.

Marcus Orling nursed his unadorned coffee. Though his trusty rum bottle weighed down the inner pocket of his jacket, the unusual crush of bodies in his favorite off campus coffee shop had so far made it unwise to add the much desired brace.

An elbow pushed into the space between his shoulder blades. High pitched giggles told him it could only be a group of feminine students pushing through to the counter. A glance confirmed his conjecture. Fourth year examples of fine womanly flesh, on the ordinary side.

He returned his attention to his too plain coffee. Not being faculty, he didn’t have to live by the constraints of his fellow researchers, but that didn’t mean he could be overt in his actions. Though maybe such a distraction would take the edge off the stress of the upcoming assessment of his work.

A flash of violet drew his attention up and three tables over. Short cropped brown hair, angular face, narrow eyes, and skin pink enough to show blushes real well. Such exotic beauty had to mean she was one of the latest crop of off-worlders to grace the institute. Hadn’t he even seen her in the vicinity of the Stellar Dynamics section a few times over the last week?

She almost met his gaze, then looked down at the roll on her plate. A moment later, she glanced back at him. This time a tentative smile brightened her face.

This could prove to be just the distraction he was looking for.

 

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Plot Bunny Escape

20170423_141929All writers wrangle with plot bunnies at one time or another  Like real rabbits plot bunnies can appear at any moment and have a tendency to breed prolifically if not kept under tight control. From time to time even my plot bunnies manage to escape their hutches and force me to chase them down. This plot bunny would not be caught until I put finger to keyboard.

My hope now is to build this out into a full short to go with my One’s Place teaser. Comments welcome.

Introduction:

The Point of View character has brought young Sheila home on a date. They arrived to discover a trio of escaped convicts have holed up in his house. Things have gone from bad to worse…

Other characters:

Burly, the leader, Nose, and Scarface

Plot Bunny Wrangled:

Sheila let go a loud sigh. Then, without lifting her head or straightening her cowed shoulders, said, “I can’t let that happen.”

Burly spun about and pulled her chin up.  “What did you–”

His head snapped back as she drove her palm up under his chin before he doubled over. She’d slammed her other fist into his gut.

Nose stepped forward only to be driven into the wall by the foot she planted in his chest.

Before Scarface could even bring his knife up she’d snapped his weapon arm behind his back and had the blade at his neck.

She leaned in close to his ear. “It would be so easy, but then some poor grunt would be stuck cleaning up all that blood.”

She did something to pull Scarface off balance.  He let out a yell as a loud snap came from the knee she’d side kicked.  Nose had come off the wall but before he could close she had taken his out stretched arm, dropped to her knee, and thrown him over his shoulder to crash through the coffee table.

Sheila stood. “Now would be a good time to call the police. I recommend you tell them the whole story.”

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Character Interview, Carryl Runderfiord, President Runderfiord Enterprises

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My last interview in this series is a busy man. It took more than a little wrangling courtesy of Miss Whittager to get a few minutes chasing after him as he refused to slow down.

What is your greatest fear?

A little incident somewhere around a year ago reminded me of how vulnerable my nearest loved ones can become if I let my guard down.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

I have to lose too much valuable time sleeping.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

That’s a hard one. In my line of work you expect all kinds of underhanded dealings around every corner. I almost deplore honest people because they present no challenge.

Which living person do you most admire?

The Merchant Lord Spaeker. Now there’s a man with a mind for business.

Which living person do you most despise?

The Merchant Lord Amberoon. So many toys and so little ambition.

When and where were you happiest?

That’s easy. In the middle of a tough negotiation.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

There’s this one lady, a so-so trader, but one of the finest engineers I have ever seen. Those were the only things she would ever agree to do for me.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Here I am, president of one of Uitnep’s fastest growing corps without the benefit of any Merchant Lord patronage.

What do you most value in your friends?

There is a core of people who will stand with me during even the bleakest of times.

What is your greatest regret?

That little incident I mentioned above? I made it possible. If the most unexpected of interventions hadn’t come along at just the right time…

Visit my Published Works page to find stories involving this character.

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Character Interview, Jonine Whittager, Engineer

interviewinprogress

It took some digging, but I succeeded in tracking down a bar frequented by my latest interview. Her language is, to put it mildly, a little flowery, so the answers below have been a wee bit edited in accordance to my Clean Reads policy.

What is your greatest fear?

Discovering all the bars are closed after getting off a long shift. Er. Not the answer you were looking for?

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Not being able to wait until no one is looking before flattening an overly annoying person? You should patent that look.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

An inability to match me drink for drink. Okay, seriously, if you’re going to be that way, double minded people who don’t know what loyalty is.

Which living person do you most admire?

You may have trouble believing this, after all he is neither from Merchant Lord stock or supported by any major merchant consortium, but my boss. Not the little guys I have to answer to on a day to day basis, the big man, Carryl Runderfiord. I mean, look what he has build without the benefit of all those aforementioned connections.

Which living person do you most despise?

I have to name just one? You may want to move onto another question.

When and where were you happiest?

In spite of our present surroundings, I’m really the happiest when I’m elbow deep in a tricky engineering problem. Machines don’t make unreasoned demands on your time and attention.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I’m told I need to cultivate a modicum of self control. Refer back to my comment about waiting before flooring an, um, annoying person.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Surely you see this jagged scar above my right eyebrow. You’ve been glancing at it often enough. There’s quite the story, but I don’t think you’re up to it.

What do you most value in your friends?

They don’t give me that look when my language gets a little, shall we say, colourful.

What is your greatest regret?

I’m where I want to be, doing what I want to do. Well, my glass is empty.

Visit my Published Works page to find stories involving this character.

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Character Interview, Elder Roggi Exavent

interviewinprogress

 

I was told Elder Roggi Exavent is too busy to speak to the likes of me. He offered me a cup of tea and all the time I needed.

What is your greatest fear?

I’ve lived so long and seen so much that it’s hard to talk in terms of a greatest fear, but there is one matter, steps I’ve taken. I know I’ve done the right thing, but there’s a shadow over my prayers that haunts me when things are quiet.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

This has changed many times over the decades, but more and more I deplore the way I have coddled my grandson Nivpul when even his father has implored me push him more to break out of his shell, socially speaking.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

The rigid adherence to religious doctrine among my peers when scripture drives us to be so much more.

Which living person do you most admire?

You’ve caught me there. I admire how well my son Peaul has done since that fateful day the Loabaycle was lost with all hands aboard, including my sweetest Ssilsnia and all five of Peauls siblings. I lost so many years after the news, years spent alternatively smothering and ignoring my son’s very real needs. That being said, I also admire my grandson Nivpul. So much like me in my early years before Ssilsnia came along. Maybe too much given he has yet to meet his Ssilsnia.

Which living person do you most despise?

The current Duke of Argodr. His father and grandfather were dangerous to be sure, but the present Duke, his ego and his avarice, surpasses that of any Noble I have ever had to mispleasure of dealing with.

When and where were you happiest?

The day my dear departed Ssilsnia cornered me into courting her affection. We had so many happy years together before the tragedy.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

To be honest. I am what the years have made me, there is little worth changing this late in life.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Marked characteristic? That has to be my refusal to limit myself to the rigid patterns practiced by most of the devoit aboard Motherload when asked to pray in public. As if I allow such rigidity to restrict me in private.

What do you most value in your friends?

Really, the fact that they are my friends. Once you’ve risen to my status as an Honoured Elder it is easy to surround yourself with status climbers or to spend too much time easing the status climb of your children.

What is your greatest regret?

Sigh. Even so many decades later I find myself torn by that question. Do I regret not clearing my calendar so I could be with my family when the Loabaycle was lost. Or regret letting Ssilsnia take the rest of the family ahead while Peaul stayed behind with me for the father to son talk.

Visit my Published Works page to find stories involving this character.

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3D Computing Part 2

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My last post, Into The Land Of 3D Computing, details my first foray into the world of 3D computing and 3D printing.

I have since rescaled my model and produced a demo sized model in a medium I can polish to perfection. 3dhubs came through again.

Now for the tricky part. Doing the actual polish and deciding if I need to add any markings. You will have to read the opening of Synergy Of Hopes to understand why that’s an important question. (Is that blatant enough?)

 

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Putting My Words Where My Mouth Is

My profile calls me a writer of science fiction adventure. Many of my posts reference back to this fact. The time has come to puts words where my mouth is, and, I hope, to seed interest in the coming release of my first novel Synergy Of Hopes.

Enjoy.

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One’s Place

A Worlds Together Teaser

The plaque read, Ensign Acer, Guard Fleet Admissions. June Trynamour wiped her hands dry before reaching for the handle. It had taken a lot of finagling to make it this far. She couldn’t allow herself to slip up now.

The young man behind the too organised desk glanced up. “Please be seated Miss Trynamour.”

Nothing good ever came from a person who kept their space so neat. She sat, hands on her lap.

The Ensign looked her in the eye with an unwavering gaze. “So you want to join Guard Fleet.”

Her sister had a similar knack for seemingly seeing past her guard. “Yes. I mean, it has become clear that Guard Fleet offers me a world of opportunities I may not get elsewhere.”

“I see.” He looked at his desk display. “I also see that you have demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for engineering and related physical sciences.”

Her heart leapt at the thought. “Yes, indeed. Ask anyone who knows me. Circuits and Gears is my middle name.”

“Yes, that is on record, along with your age.” He looked up once more. “We usually do not consider candidates before their eighteenth birthday.”

A cold sweat swept down her back inspite of all the time she’s spent preparing for this objection. “All the required paperwork has been filed.” With a few tweaks to improve her odds.

“Then you understand my need to ask the question.”

She held herself to a simple nod. They were almost through the script now. She’d worked too hard to blow it now.

“What then should I say about those points in your entrance exams that are best labelled as problematic?”

Problematic, yes, but not fatal. “If I understand my councillors correctly, the rigorous training for Guard Fleet is just what I need in those very areas.”

“That’s an interesting thought, but you should know that there is no place in Guard Fleet for mavericks. Which brings me to my next question, how much did the recruitment of your sister affect your decision to apply to join Guard Fleet?”

She looked at her hands. The one question she feared the most. Susan always got the breaks. It was her turn. She raised her head “I admit it freely. My eyes were opened to the possibilities when Susan, that is Ensign Susan Trynamour, first told us she had been approached by representatives of Guard Fleet.”

“And?”

Now wasn’t the time to faulter. “And, I learned so much about Guard Fleet that I had never known before. It was a taste that told me to look closer, and when I did, it became clear that Guard Fleet would be a perfect match for my own skills.”

“Your engineering skills?”

Once more she nodded. “I come from a small abyssal research community, and everyone has told me that my talents were being wasted within the limits of that world.”

“You had other options, like your sister. College, university, technical institutes. I know your parents are well prepared to see you go forward.”

And waste all that time on donkey work when assignment within Guard Fleet would put her on the front lines within a year? “That is true, and I was thinking along those lines, until the Guard Fleet option was made real to me.”

“Very well, let’s concentrate on that option for a moment.”

What was he looking for? What did he suspect?

“Aside from giving you an opportunity to handle the latest in hi-tech equipment, what is Guard Fleet to you?”

This was it, the make or break. She took a deep breath. “Guard Fleet is a symbol for something much greater than itself, the Commonwealth of Planets, the greatest experiment in representative intra-stellar government ever encountered. Guard Fleet exists to tell the universe that the Commonwealth is willing to stand firm for what it believes. Guard Fleet makes it possible for peace loving citizens everywhere to go about their lives without fear.”

“There is no denying you would have made a great recruitment ad. The question is, do you really believe that is true?”

As long as she got in. She straightened her shoulders. “I do, and if anything, the process of applying to Guard Fleet has only strengthened my resolve. Guard Fleet is where I belong, and I expect nothing less than the chance to prove it.”

The Ensign tapped his console, then stood and reached his hand across the desk, “In that case, Cadet, welcome to Guard Fleet.”

Her heart pounded in her ears as she stood to accept his hand.

###

The plaque read, Lieutenant Hansard, Chief of Operations.

Trynamour wiped her hands dry before stepping through and coming to attention. “Private Trynamour reporting as ordered.”

The Lieutenant looked up from his desk. “At ease, Private.”

She knew the drill, feet apart, hands behind her back.

The Lieutenant looked her in the eye. “Private, what exactly is it about this office that makes you want to spend so much time here?”

“Sir?” Something was wrong. Though the words were familiar, he’s spoken with an edge she rarely heard from her superiors.

“Let me rephrase my question. Are you here because you believe in Guard Fleet, or are you here on some kind of ego trip?”

She gulped in spite of herself. “I do not understand. My belief in Guard Fleet is a matter of record dating back to the day I was accepted.”

“Correction. A belief in Guard Fleet is on record. The question remains, has it ever been your belief?”

Why that question? Why now? Things had changed, she had seen what Guard Fleet really did, and was proud to play a part. Except for that small problem of dealing with the assorted numbskulls who portioned out tasks.

“Once upon a time you were told there is no place in Guard Fleet for mavericks, yet you continue to push the bounds of discipline and decor.”

She thought back over the intervening time since her last visit to this office. “Excuse me, sir. Except for a couple of small incidents, I have done nothing of the sort since our last talk.”

The Lieutenant looked at his desk display. “Basically correct. Unfortunately for you, one of your past excesses was not so easily forgotten.”

He turned the display around to reveal the results of one of her entrance exams, one she had tweaked upwards, except this readout showed her original scores.

“You were very clever about this, and the others.”

She fought to keep her composure. “That was almost two years ago. Surely I have proved myself since then.”

“That is not the point. You joined Guard Fleet under false pretences. Probably out of jealousy over the success of your sister Ensign Susan Trynamour.”

She cringed because the Lieutenant was right. “But that was then and so much has changed.”

“Nevertheless, a formal complaint has been placed before a board of review.”

She gasped. “Court Marshall?”

“That is one option.”

“And the others?”

“I have been authorised to offer you an alternative.”

She couldn’t let him see her waiver. “What kind of alternative?”

“You said it yourself, all this occurred almost two years ago.”

“You want me to tear up my application to re-enlist?”

“If you do, this issue will not be placed on your record, and you will be credited for your many achievements.”

An unnatural tightness rose from her chest into her throat. “Is there no other way?”

“The parties bringing this charge have made it clear they will only accept this one grudgingly.”

She let her shoulders slump. “Then I really don’t have any choice, do I? What is to become of me until my demobilisation?”

The Lieutenant smiled. “I do have a few tasks that will keep you out of the way until then.”

The numerous possibilities caused her to shiver.

“Actually, I was thinking of using your special talents to their max while I still can.”

She could not hide her surprise.

He pulled something out of his desk. “Here are your orders, you are to report to launch pad twelve immediately.”

Choked, she took the small packet and stepped back. They had just stripped her of everything she’d worked for, but she refused to let him see it. In its place, she offered the best salute she had ever managed. “Yes, sir!”

“Dismissed.”

###

The plaque read, Everett Lloyd, Manager. Trynamour wiped the lubricant off her hands before stepping through.

Mr. Lloyd sat with his hands steepled on his desk. “Randy was just in here. You remember Randy, senior engineer, and your immediate supervisor.”

“Oh crap. Just because I…”

“Just because you ignored his instructions, again, and then had the audacity to chew him out when he caught you working on the wrong project.”

“But he was allowing the Laraby Project to fall behind when we all know the pressure you are under to get it completed.”

“That is my business, not yours, and for the record, Randy was following my orders. Did you hear that, my orders. The orders of the man who took you on after your fourth employer let you go. The orders of the man who signs your pay stub.”

She glared at him. Yes this was her fifth job in six months, but he had not simply taken her on because she starting applying for a new position. No, he had swooped in and scooped her up because she had skills he needed.

“Let me tell you this, Trynamour, you are good, real good, but not that good.”

She almost sighed. The disciplines she had bucked in Guard Fleet looked more and more preferable to another one of these rants. If only that were still an option.

“So. No snide remarks for me? What? Am I somehow that much better than the people I employ?”

The last vestiges of her composure collapsed. “Better? Ha! You are just a greedy old man who would rather have a shop full of boot lickers than just one free thinker.”

“Enough!”

She froze, sure the very walls were still vibrating.

He palmed something off his desk and stood.

After a moment of deep silence he reached out his hand. “Here’s payment in full. You have one hour to collect your things and clear out.”

She choked, the fire now ice. What had she done?

He thrust his hand forward. “Well, take it.”

It dawned on her that there was only one reason why the chip was all ready to go. The fire returned. She snatched the chip from his hand, turned, and stormed out of the room.

###

The paper read, Engineer Needed, Experience in DB, MePS, and Maast required. Must be free to travel. Bring Curriculum Vitae to room 314 in the Adarac Building. She’d had to wait two long days for the given date to arrive.

Trynamour took another look both ways down the dismal hallway. She’d only seen two people since entering the building, and neither of them appeared the least bit employable.

She fingered the paper’s less than professional texture and once again wondered who had sent it to her. While a number of people had expressed a willingness to help her locate a new job, they would have been open about sharing this lead. Wouldn’t they?

A tightening of her grip caused the paper’s edge to crinkle. She once again considered leaving this place. If only her search had produced even one other viable nibble, one other place she could check out first, but the reputation she’d brought on herself had closed all those doors. The paper went into a pocket, and she stepped through the door.

A clean shaven man sat behind a small desk. “Ah, Trynamour, glad you could make it.”

She stopped to glance around the tiny office. A hefty layer of dust covered everything but the desk, and the chair between them.

“Sit, we have much to discuss.”

Instinct honed by her time in Guard Fleet told her to run, but resolve told her to find out what was going on first. Confident in her ability to get out if things got ugly, she stepped in far enough for the door to close. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

“True, but I think you’ll find it was worth it. Now sit.”

She looked at the chair, over her shoulder at the closed door, back at the chair, and decided to do as he had asked.

“You are one remarkable lady.”

It had been a mistake to sit. What now?

“It is too bad you have a tendency to counter each of your noteworthy achievements with an act of equally nefarious defiance.”

She was still free to leave.

“Alone, unemployed, yet again, out of contact with family and home…”

She stiffened “How do you know all that?”

The man smiled. “I’ve had my eye on you ever since that little escapade with the lateral maaster on board the Waterston.”

“The Waterston? But that was…!”

“A little over a year ago, and six months before Lieutenant Hansard bid you good luck in your future endeavours.”

A chill settled into her spine. “You have no right.”

“Quite the contrary. I earned the right the day you applied to join Guard Fleet.”

She couldn’t turn down such an invitation. “How so?”

“Let us just say that the Lieutenant was not being entirely truthful when he said there was no place in Guard Fleet for mavericks.”

The chill spread. “How could you possibly know that?”

His eyes narrowed. “There are many aspects to Guard Fleet. Some very public, and some very discrete, but they all have their place, and they all have their procedures.”

Could it be? A return to Guard Fleet? On terms she might be able to live with? Who else could possibly have access to that level of intel? “Very well. I’ll play along. What would anyone in Guard Fleet want with someone who chose to leave the moment her first tour of duty was over?”

“There are many worlds that have not joined the Commonwealth, and many more we know too little about to make make any kind of informed decision one way or the other.”

“You have not answered my question.”

“The right kind of maverick can make for an excellent set of eyes and ears.”

“What?”

“An audacity to keep pushing for what she considers most important. The ability to pull off a records adjustment that was only discovered because the data referred directly to her, and the discoverer had made his search a matter of personal honour.”

Her breath caught. He did know everything, and the way he spoke. Only one conclusion made sense. “You want me to become a spy.”

“And you want to find a place where you know you are making a difference for the good of the Commonwealth.”

She looked around the room once again. Thought about the dismal hallway behind her. Considered the neighbourhood in which this building stood. Focusing her eyes back on the man. “And you expect me to just take your word on this?”

“Quite the opposite. I expect you to use ever trick you know to verify my story. Just remember the code words Skyguard and Fleetjack.”

That was a challenge she would take great pleasure in tackling, though one condition remained unanswered. “How long?”

His gaze did not flinch. “I will be right here, for exactly one hour, seven days from now.”

Their business seemingly done, she stood. “Then I had best get started, Mister ?”

“Skyguard, or is that Fleetjack?”

She made no attempt to hide the wry smile that crossed her face and left determined to at last prove her worth as a Guard Fleet member.

————

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