The Black

The Terran freighter Star Duster ripped into real space on time and on target. Tristen scanned his screens with practiced ease. His Star Duster had returned to his home-world after his seasons voyage among the fledgling Human Colonization effort.

“Transmit the Codes” Tristen ordered smoothly. Pushing up to his visual monitor as his crew bent to their task.

“Port Royal Transmitting received and sent us welcome. We are cleared as filed for Orbit over Delmar.” His XO reported from his station.

“Gods, it’s good to be home” His Delmar Crewman at sensors murmured before catching herself.

“It is. Looks like we will be here for a full refit. Delmar wants some practice maintaining a Terran Freighter. They’d rather not learn while trying to save a damaged one. Com, get the Shipyard on the horn. let’em know we’re here.” Tristen ordered before turning to his XO, “Digg’s, you have the Con, I need to send the arrival report to Sol.”

“Aye Cap’n” Aaron Diggs flicked him a quick abbreviated salute with a grin. “Are we offload’n from the yards or in orbit.”

“The Yards, I believe.” Tristen stated before floating out of the command deck.

Star Duster was fully laden when she left Sol. However, she carried less than half her capacity at this time. She had been tasked with making a drop at Eleria to assist the research and colonization efforts there, which had reduced their cargo by a third. The second third was spread out among the recovery/exploration ships, and Tristan had guided his command through several unknown systems to meet at preplanned locations to replenish the exploration fleet. Star Duster was a strangely Industrial ship, but he had come to love his command’s blocky utilitarian complexion as she bent slip space to her will, sacrificing all to the gods of speed. He smiled as he felt the shift in Duster’s positioning as he rotated to begin her deceleration. Her bones hummed a now familiar song, ringing in tune to her massive sub light drives as his crew slipped her into Delmar’s orbit. Tristen refocused on his task, scanning over the past two hours of work before sending off his report to Sol. His bones ached for proper gravity. He had been fortunate to be able to take shore leave at Luna, then again down on Mars. To his sadness he had missed Mac and Lyri, but they had kept in touch. His mission had deemed his departure several months before their own, and thus he had beaten them back to Delmar.

His thoughts carried him to the Singular Shuttle that the Duster carried. She was designed for a minimal crew, and the rest of them had already piled in by the time he arrived, “Under tow?”

“Under Tow Cap’n, we were about to com ya.” Diggs snapped off with a grin, “We saved ya the good seat.”

They had indeed saved him the good seat, right up next to his helmswoman. They quickly detached, and Clarise “Charlie” Richardson pulled the stubby shuttle over the top of their ship in a rolling loop that settled them onto one of the approaches into atmosphere. The reentry was very humanly violent, it was a thrill every time Tristen had experienced it. The shuttle pirouetted quickly, raging against gravity with her main drives bellowing through the frame into everyone’s bones before they were shut down and Charlie flicked her smaller charge’s belly to the onslaught of atmospheric atoms. The exterior of the shuttle quickly heated, rendering them into a perfect imitation of a falling meteor.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” Tristen laughed at the giant shit-eating grin on Charlies face as she hurtled them towards the planet through burning plasma and flame-filled superheated air.

“It's my favorite part!” She yelled back over the cacophony of sounds that assaulted their senses. Moments later the sound ceased as the shuttle’s lifting body finally reached thick enough atmosphere to fly properly. Almost to prove a point, Charlie slammed out the air brakes and flicked the shuttle inverted only to pull its nose to point straight down. Whoops and excited Yells could be heard from the back as the shuttle danced to the helmswoman’s touch as she played around the edges of the scattered cloud layers before pulling out of her near-suicidal dive to make for the shuttle terminal.

Tristen’s grin matched those of his crew, this was also his favorite part.

_____________________________________________________________________

Cory stepped into the planet side office of Delmar Shipyards, this was not a meeting he was ready to have. The message had been received two days ago with this date and time attached. He could have rescheduled, but he doubted it would change the outcome or the information. He stepped into the office to find Darclemus waiting for him along with the head of the shipyards Orbital Operations.

“Mr Grarzia , Cory, welcome. Come sit, my boy.” Darclemus’ tone was a gentle command, and Cory found himself sitting across from the two men.

Cory took a deep breath and decided to rip the bandage off, “Celest is not repairable, is she..” He said, eyes locked on the Shipyard representative.

“I’m sorry son, she is not. It would take too much for us to repair her hull alone. Her metallurgy itself is compromised.” The lifelong shipwright said solemnly, “I’ve worked on the old girl my entire life… It’s not an easy decision.”

“I understand, I suspected as much from the beginning. Forgive me for being forward; but what is there for me to do.” Cory asked carefully.

“You are her surviving ranking officer. She is sunk, but she is still your boat.” Darclemus spoke this time, “You know the tradition. You have final say on her final resting place.”

Cory sat back for a long moment. Delmar tradition was that if a freighter survived to make it back to her home port, but could not be repaired; Her commanding officer had the rights of deciding where to lay his command to rest. Her Captain, Olyvia, had perished on the operating table from her wounds. Cory was her first officer, and thus the surviving commanding officer of Celestial Traveler during her tow back to Delmar. Cory’s eyes glazed over for a moment in memory of that terrible day, and his right hand rubbed his trouser pocket where the copy of his captain’s letter still resided… That ship was Olyvia’s heart and soul, and everyone in the room wished she were here to make this final decision.

Cory found himself pulling the letter from his pocket, running his fingers over the frayed edges of the often read square of material. He knew… There was only one answer that would bring his soul to peace. “Sir’s. Captain Olyvia always wished to be buried at sea, sent into her home star…” He paused as the lump in his throat cut off the last of his request. He took a few deep breaths before continuing, “I believe Celest has one final voyage to take..” he finally got out. “Could she be made to complete this final task?”

The representative of the shipyard thought for a moment before an old, grizzled hand settled onto his forearm. Darclemus simply looked at the man and nodded before turning toward Cory, “It will be done. I’ll notify the families. I don’t fathom anyone will object.”

Cory simply nodded before standing, “If you will excuse me, I have some personal things I need to attend to.”

“Go, son. I’ll contact you when the preparations are complete.” Darclemus stated gently, releasing Cory from the meeting.

Cory stepped out, and walked slowly from the building toward his aircar… The heavy weight of loss resurged itself afresh as his mind broiled its way back through memory. His time on the ship that had born him through so many years of his life in the void flashed through his eyes as he reached for the handle to…

“Cory!” Jackie Young called from across the parking lot. Shattering his revelry as he turned toward those emerald greens as she jogged up to him. She was in full workout attire, complete with a vest that had become a human staple as they worked to maintain their physiological requirements in this much lighter gravity. “I didn’t know you were….” She stopped immediately from her jog in place to talk to him and reached out for his forarm, “Something happened…” her swing from greeting to concern forced a small sad smile onto Cory’s features.

“I had to make a decision today… about Celest… She can’t be saved…” Cory’s emotionally exhausted tone registered.

Jackie squeezed his arm before pulling him into a tight, if somewhat sweaty hug, “Im sorry…” she whispered before releasing him, “Fuck it. Give me a ride?” She said, stripping off her weighted vest revealing a sports bra and glistening tanned skin underneath. Cory raised an eyebrow as she tossed the vest into his trunk, “What, It's fuckin hot on your planet. Give me a ride home? I need a shower, and you need to get drunk. What’a you say?” She planted her hands on her hip and waited.

Cory just shook his head, “Sure, yea… Hop in.” he finally relented as they hopped into his air car and lifted off. Twenty minutes later they touched down in the lot near her apartment and she led him to her studio sized temporary planet side crash pad. Cory barely had time to settle, as five minutes later, a still damp-haired Jackie, in a white tank top and blue jeans appeared still pulling at her cascading locks with a brush. “Fuck makeup, this is a bar hop, let’s go.” She groused before turning to him, “Let’s take the tram, you won’t be airworthy when we are done with you.” She smirked at him.

“We?” Cory asked, concern quickly spreading through him just as the doorbell rang. The two of them stepped out to find Jacob, Hera, Patrick and Camorra standing there.

“Ok, how the fuck did you do that.” Cory looked over at Jackie who just tapped her temple.

“Alpha sync Coms, medical techs get’em because it makes communicating through the infirmary in an emergency really fuckin easy.” Jackie grinned.

“Common, I know just the spot.” Hera nodded toward the Tram stop on the other side of the lot. Cory just shook his head, resigning himself to his fate. In truth, a small glimmer of something other than brooding sorrow sparked off. maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Bart and Quin looked up from the table where the experimental device lay a smoldering wreck of failure. The two of them had been given another inspiration over drinks the day before and had cobbled together a quick prototype before this appointment… Sadly, the smoldering shell of a pistol was proof that there was both great promise and great danger to their idea. Their attention had been drawn to the door that guarded the entrance to their “fortress of insanity” as Mackenzie was wont to call it...

Ivar and Martina Tras stepped through the doors to the laboratory and walked crisply towards the brothers. Martina’s Spanish motif summer dress flowed about her, and Ivar was in his typical utilitarian human tan “tactical” pants and a Delmar-style flowing tunic. Quin instantly smiled, waving the two of them over to greet them.

“Smells like you blew something up.” Quipped Ivar with a smile before shaking the older man’s hand, “Do we need to give you time?”

“Yes, and no… Just a drunk inspiration turned promising slag.” Quin chuckled as he clasped hands with Ivar in the Human greeting. “Please, this way. We were told to expect you” he said, leading the way to a separate room with no windows.

Bart stepped in behind them and walked over the the counter in the corner, “The Admiral wishes to ‘phone in’. He seems to be very worried about you, my dear.” He mentioned to Martina as he punched in the code. It took a minute for the connection to stabilize, but the slightly distorted image of Clint Stevens sharpened into view up against the wall. He was clearly sleep deprived, with an almost empty pot of coffee behind him and multiple pads strewn about him as if a mild windstorm had coalesced in his office.

“Admiral?” Ivar raised an eyebrow in concern.

“Sadly, need to know McLovin.” Clint chuckled, “Once I have a handle on this here, and a 3 day coma once I get back home, I should be able to share more.” A mug of coffee reached his lips as he shotguns the remains of the contents of the cup before rubbing his face with both hands. “Martina,” Clint focused on her, “I have to ask, are you sure about this…”

“I am admiral.” She said simply, and with more formality that was her want with her old friend. She scooted up onto the biobed in the room and laid down as Quin reached for the controls.

“Admiral, we are taking every precaution. I am initiating a scan of Mrs Tras as we speak. I have also mixed the injection with our own nanites that will be programmed with her scan, to be able to immediately destroy the serum and restore any damage. The risk is not zero, but I believe we have mitigated as much as possible.” Quin stated while still performing the deep scan of Martina’s current physiology. “And…. Complete, we have a complete template copy of Ms Tras in her current state. Martina, do you wish to continue.”

“I do, doctor.” Martina stated, beginning to sit up, only for the gentle hand of Bart to stop her. “I don’t understand.”

“For the template to be effective, in the event of an emergency; We need you to be lying perfectly still and restrained. We also do not know what your reaction to the serum will be.” Bart explained as Martina laid back down and nodded.

“I understand, I am ready.” She said as she settled into position. The air around her shimmered, and the flowing portions of her dress were visibly pressed against her figure as the fields rendered her entire body completely motionless, save for the programmed monitoring of her bodies required movements for breathing, blinking, and speaking.

The pressure on her body was terrifying, yet she was able to take deep breaths to calm herself. She could feel Ivar’s hand on hers through the restraints, and he moved to the other side of her so he could stand in her field of view. “I’m here, Chika.” He cooed to her. This had been a difficult decision. Ivar was not convinced that this was a good idea, and it had been one of the few legitimate fights they had experienced as a couple. In the end, Martina convinced him to let her go through with it. He understood, but he could not completely keep the Terrified worry from his expression as she lay there helpless on the table.

“Ms Tras, I am administering it now. We are going to begin with half what we think your correct dose will be. We need to creep up on the correct dosage. I would rather it not work than kill you.” Quin stated as he pressed the injector to her wrist. “Tell us everything, If you lose consciousness; we will abort immediately.”

Martina simply nodded, “Let's do this, doc” she responded, and winced as the injector fired. Nothing happened for about a minute, but thirty seconds into the second minute Martina began to sweat, “Ooooh, I’m getting really warm... It’s uncomfortable, like a fever. Otherwise no change” The first spike of pain shot through her head, “Scratch that, Migraine city.. Holy fuck” She gritted through clenched teeth as the spikes flashed and flared through her brain for the next few seconds before subsiding… Martina’s eyes were watering from the previous pain and Ivar dabbed at them. “Ok, the pain is gone, I’m still warm, but I don’t feel much different.”

“Ah, I see what’s going on, your body is trying to destroy the serum. It is succeeding at an alarming rate.” Bart mumbled as he tried to compensate with the nanites. “I think we are going to need the second half. Her immune system is... well… being human.”

“I can’t nod, so im gonna say yes.” Martina panted. Her body temperature had risen to just under 40 C, and she was sweating profusely.

“Starting second injection.” Quin stated as he applied a second injector with practiced hands. “Done.”

“Ohh shit!” Martina gasped almost instantly, “Fuck…” Was all she got out as her body temperature shot up to 40.05 almost instantly. “This sucks… I’m feeling like I’m being electrocuted, up there… God.. DD” words failed her as she started grunting and groaning for the next two minutes. “Im still here” and “fuck” was sprinkled in here and there.

Ivar looked frantically over at Doctor Quin, “Doc?” His voice wavered around the edges as he looked back down at his wife who was openly weeping from her eyes. It was obvious that she would be thrashing about if she were not restrained.

“Her heart is accelerated to 193 bpm, her temperature is stable at 39.8. Martina… How are you feeling.” Quin asked. Constantly tapping on the biobed’s controls.

“Fuck, Doc. Im here. It hurts… It really fuckin hurts!” Martina groaned. “Wait… HOLY FUU!” She yelled before letting out a long excruciatingly pained moan before going silent.

“Martina? Marty talk to me.” Ivar leaned over her, as she just began slowly blinking as a stunned expression flooded across her features.

“Her heart rate and temperature is stabilizing. Her brain scans are…. Martina, I need you to talk to us please” Quin’s voice was accenting Ivar’s worry as he struggled to comprehend the data streaming.

“Doctor, I’m… ok…” Martina was taking long slow cleansing breaths as her heart returned from its breakneck pace, and her body began to cool quickly from the sweat that now soaked her, “I think the pain is gone… It’s very strange… May I be released please? I’m getting… cold”

“Yes, of course.” Quin said quickly before the shimmers of the field ceased entirely and Ivar helped Martina up to a sitting position.

“Chika… Martina, talk to me honey… What the fuck just happened.” Ivar was equal parts worried, and relieved. She wasn’t dead, but apart from that... he had no idea. He pulled her close to his chest as he pulled the blanket around her. He was about to ask again when his being was frozen in place by a low feral humming growling sound that resonated against his chest. He looked down to find Martina locking her eyes on his. His eyes widened as she actively bore her teeth at him in a very Delmar expression of possessiveness. “Marty… what’s going on… what are yo….” He was cut off by an aggressively passionate kiss from Martina that ended in her biting his lower lip HARD enough to draw blood before she pulled his forehead to her’s. Her emotions ripped into his consciousness with all the violence of an Eros impact.

“What I’ve wanted to do since you gave me this ring.” She panted as she felt him truly for the first time. They both rode the waves of Violent merging for several moments until the link settled down into a more sedately stable connection. Martina was still breathing heavily, partly from the previous ordeal; and partly from feeling her Ivar’s emotions inside her own mind. She held on to the back of Ivar’s head for a full minute holding their foreheads together before she released him and settled back down into his embrace.

The two of them were interrupted by a soft clatter of a data pad landing on a countertop. Ivar and Martina turned to see both Brothers Grem just standing next to the dumbfounded hologram of Clint Stevens, wearing matching expressions to the now very awake Admiral.