Last Jump

CHAPTER 1: Spark

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say but Mel would never let her voice go silent.

She compelled everyone to examine her from head to toe as she fell slightly under six feet and carried herself like a forward on the basketball court. She advanced toward a person whether man or woman straight toward them with her head up and eyes focused. She appeared as a charging bull or a senior forward driving for the goal. Her voice lilted into the ear soft and southern yet carried a dogged self-assertiveness. A sure footedness in manner and octaves that crashed upon all around yet directed inwardly as well. An outward mode to quell the inner demons and insecurities.

She bore the full regale of a woman- her hair flowed well below the shoulders and her uniforms were stitched to match her curves. Occasionally her nails carried the bright colors of sun, orchard and melon. She also carried the respect for her work from all who had served with her. She had served as a tech, a docker, and now guider.

A guider pulled in the ships lacking afterburners or thrusters or plain out of fuel. A guider needed no pilot license - no need to apply for rank or get scanned. A person needed only the practical knowledge of skimming in multitiered ships using a ship just slightly bigger than the human body. Her skills as guider were not the best but every officer of a ship in need requested her. Her smile felt like it lighted the blackness that could have swallowed the ship whole if she had not been there. Plus, her experience and friends in the dockers assured the repairs and trading out of goods would get done. Of course, if an extra item entered her hands the work would get done even faster. A ship would quickly become space worthy under her care. She did not ask questions of destinations or work- all were fares and safe passage to all who greeted her. All were billed fairly for her work and time- fairly to her.

While pilots and officers of each ship were enamored by the smile, curves and womanly ways, her employers were not. All agreed she encompassed the perfect worker: she made them money, asked few questions, understood the in-and-outs of all the ships and space travel, yet for reasons unknown she would skip out from the job to another far off space port without warning.

Her employers always thought it odd that she of all people— one who understood tech and traveled the outer planets did not accept e-payments. She only accepted materials as payment. All of her employers laughed at her luddite ways, yet it kept none from hiring her and it kept all from learning her identity. Employers, pilots, dock friends all knew her as Mel or the nickname Mel-ancholy. A bartender applied the name to her watching her drink and flirt.

“The drinking she needs- the flirting she punishes herself with,” he said. She kept the nickname and handed it out to friends she developed – a joke on herself.

All those electronic records carried a different name, a tainted name- a name once spoken aloud by a friend, associate, employer or even a bartender she would be gone. A request to replace her electronic id chip would gain the same disappearing act. Fear would run across her face almost in the same strength of the day that tainted her life.

She could have settled in some long outpost on Mars, the moon, IO or even on some of the mining colonies near Orion yet she kept to the space ports and the traveling pilots. Like a magnet her heart kept her near the ships- the ships zipping between outposts catapulting into the darkness of space. Her fear of the discovery of her failure drove her finally into the depths of travelled space away from the ships to a colony where no electronic records appeared to follow.

Her electronic records showed she originated from earth. Earth borne commanders were often the choice for command and many a great ship’s captain hailed from all man’s home. Her father possessed such a manner authority and had such a precisely keen awareness of right and wrong that he served well in earth’s military that his title of Colonel belied the respect even generals gave him. Her mother appeared only as a faint moth flickering around her father, but Mel was no moth to anyone not even the sun that pulled all the planets around it. Her family’s name had carried military service emblems and awards for six generations. From father to son, military service and usually heroism was inscribed into the name. At the outset even though she bore the female gender it was expected for her to bear military title as well. With her vocation selected at birth, once she completed the required schooling, she entered the military at 17.

She excelled at physics and command. Generally liked, she outshined many of the male candidates which often won approval from her very direct sergeant and gained the camaraderie of her fellow female soldiers. Her steady mind, strong body and charming ways gave her a smile of slightest pride. She felt destined to shine no matter the challenge or danger to herself. She would embark into the darkness of space and light it up – she would be no moth. She wrote herself into the science fiction of the future. She would discover unchartered worlds; she would lead terraforming expeditions and save millions commanding a fleet to bring in food supplies as the only one able to traverse space marauders. She would be the one to seal a space leak in the nick of time saving the crew and her friends. She would be the model all captains and generals referred to of duty, devotion and the unflinching bravery her proud military name carried. She would be the leader of men, and no one outshined her in officer’s training, so she garnered her requested station aboard a military spaceflight that covered the moon territories, Mars and Io.

“Dad, I am assigned to Earth’s top military vessel in space,” Mel echoed over the video chat line. Her father’s response seemed less than enthused and offered to use his pull to get her an Earth-bound duty station. She summarily refused.

Her first lieutenant rank firmly affixed she answered roll call and took her place and settled in at her station near engineering and just one level down from the helm on the Mabus. For a full month, she felt the boredom eating at her for the ship and the days sailed smoothly. The ship had checked on 31 space stations and visited three moon bases yet no hiccups or even the smallest issues. She did have to order a tech to retrieve an extra water filtration system removed from the ship’s backup system and transport it to the moon’s surface Base Seven when there’s burned out. No great successes, high adventure or major orders to report to her father. Her mother sent a message each day announcing how proud and worried she was for her and that her father asked about her yet all she could her in her father’s voice was “Top of her class and she goes off to ferry supplies and check up on the colonies. We have real problems on planet.”

A panel squealed and Mel leaped to her feet. She wasn’t on duty but there was a problem. Voices in the hall and over the command channel rang with shouting. Her heart full stopped while her feet rushed ahead toward her station near engineering.

“If the command channel is full of shouting there is a serious problem- this, is it,” she thought.

A fierce purpose driven echo sounded in the commander’s voice as he ordered two teams into the shafts around engineering. A corporal and Lt. James crashed by jostling her. Both entered the electrical and air shafts in less than a minute. She regained her purpose and headed toward the shaft when she heard the commander sound the all clear and Lt. James popped out of the shaft with Corporal Simmons straight behind.

“We’re all good here,” Lt. James smiled that confident smile she had always seen in her mind on her face after a great task. “Just an oxygen line snap. We go it sealed lickety-split,” he commented as he lightly pressed his hand on her shoulder. “You should head back to your cabin. We got it all covered.”

Her eyes followed them down the hall as other safety crews smiled as Lt. James and Simmons passed by. Regret flowed she should have been quicker. At breakfast before her shift, she took a seat away from Lt. James and Simmons who were ready for their downtime with story about them saving the whole ship.

Mel mumbled, “Like an oxygen pressure seal would have burst the whole ship and crew into space.”

“I was hollering at Simmons to put his gloves on, so the liquid oxygen didn’t freeze his fingers off. It wouldn’t have been terrible for him to lose his masturbation hand,” laughed James. Simmons smiled and nodded his head. Both finished their meal and disappeared from the mess hall.

Mel rehearsed the training of cutting a perforated line in her mind and sealing and reconnecting. She would have done it quicker and better than Lt. James or Simmons. The brief hesitation and slight pause in the hall only exulted her certainty that her courage would be utterly apparent in the future when the severity of the situation made every other person pause.

CHAPTER 2: Jump in

After two years of military conveying, supply missions and covering regions of space previously known only to her imagination, she discovered little adventure and less heroics. Her commanders were always pleased with her very organized and thorough work. Commander Jessup whom she now served under always said, “A well prepared crew and a thoroughly examined ship never falls into dangerous situations.”

It guaranteed safety yet created monotony. She bore the severity of boredom of the daily tasks of reviewing data entering data. Oxygen ratios and outer temperature variances created no reward beyond a smooth arrival at ports filled with tales of the dangers of space travel, yet the only danger she had witnessed daily was boredom. Yet her prospects of ever-increasing rank looked good as she earned full Lt. and soon would be up for Lt. Commander. She had a thorough knowledge of her duties and her commander’s duties. She still yearned for the opportunity to prove her inner worth of unflinching strength she knew she possessed. She needed a chance to show it to not only herself but to others. The dangers of space travel didn’t pop up as often and apparent as crews and planet bound adventure seekers believed. This sinister boredom, this complication of safe space travel peeled at her heart and mind more than she understood. Yet, that is when heroism of a sort discovered her and placed in motion a future where she would meet her failure.

Master Chief Burk surveyed and catalogued the chemical supplies for a drop at a military space station outside of Io.

“How far along are you, chief?” questioned Lt. Mel.

To Burk, Master Chief was the highest rank anyone needed, and Mel understood this and always placed her orders to him in request form.

“We have it all scanned and ready,” answered Burk.

“Where’s Depp?” She quizzed as she examined the storage bay. A loud crash as Depp hopped from his spot. Depp crashed the e-cig into his pocket and saluted Mel.

“Get the units and start preparing for off-loading,” ordered Mel.

Mel stood on the lower ramp as the droid units and electronic stackers unloaded the cargo with Master Chief and Depp arranging the droids’ work. The after-incident report blamed poor station maintenance on the stacker droid, yet the accident unfurled like providence.

One of the stackers with three full crates and two power rod containers stacked up had a snap in the linkage chain. All the contents along with the forks of the stacker tumbled forward toward the Master Chef and Depp. Mel reacted almost as she had always dreamed. Her feet beat a path to the Chief and Depp. She collided into them attempting to force all three in the direction just past where thousands of pounds of equipment collided. Misjudging her own heft not all her move passed the collision. Her left leg lay just around one of the stacker’s forks. Blood pushed out like an oilwell tapped for the first time. She smiled down on Master Chief and Depp who were sprawled on the concrete with their safety goggles cracked and earplugs popped out.

“Thanks, Lt.,” said Chief and then a clenching teeth came across his face.

“Don’t move, Lt.,” he almost whispered.

She just then realized she couldn’t move. Glancing over her left shoulder she witnessed blood on the concrete and her leg pinned.

“Chief, you can’t give me orders,” she smiled as her head began spinning and she passed out.

Within moments Depp and Master Chief had removed the stacker fork and an emergency crew had sealed the leg and prepared Mel for the medical bay.

“It’s a miracle she isn’t dead and only her valor kept me and Ensign Depp from being space dust,” read Master Chief Burke’s report on the incident.

Prior to the ship leaving spaceport, a medical emergency with several miners had Mabus’ Captain Willingham assign the ship’s chief medical officer Liota and several staff to the Io base. Captain Willingham had Mel transported to the Io medical base so she could recuperate under Liota’s watchful eye. While the Medical staff received the non-glamorous job of examining thousands of slides each day, Mel discovered a new kind of boredom with her assignment of healing and rest.

The Io base Admiral assigned one of his Lt. Commander’s to Mel’s position on the Mabus at the request of the Captain Willingham.

While the civilian ward had over 200 miners with an odd bacterial infection, there were only two other patients in the military ward when Mel arrived. A tech ensign named Levi Wood who had space burned his hand while repairing a communication antenna on the outside of the space station. An electrical pulse from some wiring caused his space suit glove to fray enough to expose his hand to space briefly. The other lucky patient was Jenson Weld, who wore the rank of Lt. Junior Grade, yet carried the confidence of an admiral. Jenson pierced a lung and broke three bones while racing a mine duner from the outer military outpost in order to beat anyone else’s time back to base in order to file a soil sample with the bacteria identified in the sickness outbreak.

“I still only landed behind the record time by 12 minutes which I could have crawled quicker to the base then those med drivers got to me,” he ranted with a smile.

Mel and Jenson talked of their lives. Played cards, chess, dined on MREs together, rebuilt their strength and healed together. By the end of her three-week stint in the hospital, she and Jenson could sit together enthralled with the moments of silence between them. The kissing and touching that occurred away from witnessing eyes was more exciting than any space adventures Mel had envisioned.

“Is that smile meant for me,” asked Mel when spotting Jensen gazing toward the blackness outside the windows of the space station.

“Of course, since I was just remembering the last time, I saw you naked,” he joked.

Mel could easily get around with only a haunting feeling in the leg to slow her down. But a piece of her heart slowed her down more and did not wish to leave Jensen. But she was no one’s moth so she inquired with Captain Willingham when the Mabus would return. He advised her that with what appeared to be bandits capturing and stripping drone ships it could be a year before the Mabus returned to Io.

Mel debated staying on Io but soon discovered Jenson was not remaining either. He had put in for a transfer almost 6 months before the accident and had been approved to fly out with a military transport moving work prisoners to a base on the moon. Mel filed a request with the Captain of the transport and military command to ride along to the moon and catch her assigned ship at the moon base. She figured she could hang out with Jenson and fill in on the duty roster.

Captain Roden of the Railyard accepted her request but he had her transferred to his ship on the full duty rooster and assigned her rank of Lt. Commander (a recent promotion due to her quick action during the docking). The Railyard’s Deck Commander would be taking over at the Io base. She smiled with pride when she received the orders knowing that she carried only the rank of a Lt. Commander, yet she would have full commander duties and voice with her new assignment which could easily lead to commander rank and assignment on a real vessel.

She expected Jenson to be jealous or slightly envious, yet he kissed her check and gave her a great smile when he discovered she would be his direct superior on the ship. His thoughts were on easy duty assignments and knowledge that he commanded the affections of his soon to be commander.

The Railyard vented gases and if possible, appeared to limp as it entered the Io space dock. Mel viewed the ship as it entered the bays of the space station. She shook her head in disappointment. She wondered if being a commander on a rusted non-maintenance decaying garbage can in space qualified as official duty. She immediately set a path to the ramps. She wished to greet Captain Roden the minute the bay doors closed. Roden exhibited a full unfocused military thrust as he disembarked cursing the two corporals near the deck lift. Roden’s own first commander whose face eyed the platform where he would soon be under a new Captain looked like an escaped convict reaching the prison’s open gates.

“Captain Roden,” Mel saluted and awaited her orders.

“You’re prettier than on your records,” Captain Roden noted as if a statement of fact – a problematic fact.

“If you say so, sir,” answered Mel as she fell in lockstep behind his march toward the command deck near the bays.

Roden didn’t acknowledge her response but began to hurl orders her way. Mel mentally noted all items about getting the ship ready and finding Junior Lt. Weld. He ordered her to get everything ship shape- they would be embarking within 24 hours. Mel almost voiced standing orders on all military vessels venting any type of gases or possible atmosphere were required a 48-hour maintenance review.

Mel almost yelled “A well prepared crew and thoroughly examined ship never falls into dangerous situations.” Yet, she quickened her pace back to the Railyard to be best prepared as possible in 24 hours. She stepped back into the bay to see Jenson joking with the two corporals Capt. Roden had been chewing on when he disembarked.

“Lt. Weld come with me to the bridge so we can get this ship ready for flight in 24 hours. I need you to call up the full ship roster, duty assignments and schedules along with a full count of the inmates,” ordered Mel. She would give no preference to friend, lover or any crew member.

Jenson smiled, saluted, and followed her on to the ship.

Arriving on the bridge Mel got the first queasy feeling in her life. She didn’t know if it was some food she ate or if the idea hurling through space in what appeared to be a retrofitted garbage transport gave her the feeling to hurl. Her concerns were quickly enhanced noting the ship had no chief medical officer, no one with command authority or experience except the captain and technically now her. She truly would be second in command of a spaceship. It was a rundown, scrap metal ready ship but a true command for her. A list of standard maintenance items from her former starship had not been addressed or completed in almost three years. As she readied the files, she noticed the ship had been planned for decommissioning three years ago but with Earth in need of every transport ship it kept on flying. Capt. Roden had taken command at that time and had immediately filed for retirement and according to the records when he lands on the moon from this trip the military would honor his retirement request.

“No wonder he is in such a hurry,” stated Mel under her breath. “He obviously really retired three years ago since none of the proper schedules have been followed.”

Mel heard Capt. Roden’s pounding steps minutes before he even reached the bridge.

Mel quickly surmised Captain Roden was not one to examine -- the key was to look pointedly busy and unaware unless one wished to draw his ire and receive a devouring glare and a torrent of foamy, abusive jargon that came like a gush from a sewer.

As he entered, he immediately threw out orders to all in earshot. “Commander, 21 hours to have us ready,” barked Capt. Roden.

“Sir, yes sir. But shouldn’t you address me as Lt. Commander,” answered Mel.

Roden gave no response and took his seat at the helm.

“Who the hell is running a.i. diagnostics?” Capt. Roden complained as he examined the helms panel filled with warning errors.

“I am sir,” answered Mel.

“Cut that crap off. On a prison vessel a 4-hour notice must be given before running diagnostics to verify stasis lockdown,” Capt. Roden yelled.

“Yes, sir.” answered Mel and closed out the session.

She realized the ship could be in worse shape than she imagined.

Mel began to put her staff of 12 into full repair and maintenance mode. She even got the two med stat junior officers onto the maintenance schedule. She was determined to get the ship better prepared than it had been in the last three years. She had also ordered all the crew for full physical scans prior to departure since none of the yearly physicals or scans had been done in the last year in a half when the chief medical officer died of infection on a mining asteroid project. He had torn his protective suit and cut his hand while helping two of the prisoners pinned during an accident. With the decommissioning of the ship expected each year no replacement had ever been reassigned. All complied with the med scan except the Captain who remind Mel that such tasks ate up time on repairing and making sure supplies were on the ship.

Mel had requested the Captain to allow medical scans of the 225 prisoners but he refused noting that with the limited time and crew it was best if all the prisoners were left in stasis. Stasis even short ones were a living hell to Mel. Her short 20-minute stasis to the hospital was bad enough, she could not imagine months of being in the little tube with feeding lines and hydration IVs running into you and your body functions slowed to the point of coma. It felt like death. All the research said no one felt or remembered anything from stasis but Mel remembered the cold and groggy feeling.

Two hundred twenty-five men and woman in what reminded Mel of giant capped off toothpaste tubes. These were people with memories, affections and souls put away like machines until needed for more work again.

Mel scanned each stasis tube and grid to ensure each was functioning properly.

“Look at the poor bastards,” said Jenson as he walked up behind Mel and reached his arm around her waist.

“Not now and not here, Lt.,” said Mel.

“Sir, Yes Sir,” laughed Jenson as he pulled her closer.

She gave him a look of seriousness and he smiled and let go.

“I’ll help you with the scans,” he noted and began checking the stasis pods beside Mel.

Twenty-four hours to the minute Mel had been ordered to get all prepared, Captain Roden ordered the ship out of space dock, and it careened out on track to the moon. Corporal Aimes mumbled a small prayer as the course and trajectory were plugged in and the ship got underway.

The ship cleared Io and broke into the blackness of space. A blackness with only the smallest dots of light it seemed. All thought fell away and only the suppressed hearts did not skip several beats knowing the tethers of safety fell away for the little ship. Captain Roden and Mel rotated command shifts with Roden sitting at the helm during his shifts and almost sleeping again. Mel checked every system, verified all maintenance hiccups and had her share of the crew scrambling to upgrade or fix issues before they arose. Even Jenson soon preferred working shift with Roden since other than his yelling for inane reasons at least it was not constant work and worry.

Mel had been even more uptight since the medical scans had been communicated from Io. Jenson was afraid one of the crew had one of those mysterious bacterial infections that got people dead or quarantined. Mel knew the crew under her were fine it was that she was now three weeks pregnant.

Every shift she felt like the crew and all aboard were making a pilgrimage to the moon. A trip that would end with enlightenment for all. She dined with her crew and stole moments with Jenson.

“When we arrive at the moon base we need to talk,” Mel ended every conversation with Jensen. Jensen never questioned what the talk would be about. He assumed it would be about new assignments and if the relationship should continue.

Mel did not once in that first week check on their human cargo. Her mind focused on ferrying her command to the moon, regaining a role on a real ship and what a little baby could mean to her life.

During her off-duty time, she ignored the thoughts of what was growing in her belly and tried to sleep but more often than not found herself awake and reviewing maintenance issues and planning for her shift to ensure the destination arrived. Her down time descended on her like an unfamiliar gravity. Crushing her lungs. The oxygen in the ship always seemed to thin when not focused on work.

CHAPTER 3: Into the black

A quiet stillness pervaded her world as she took her seat at the helm. She felt assured of the security and safety of the crew while she was at the helm. She dreamed of the moon and the smooth cool landing. The ship pushed forward through each maintenance check by Mel another sign that the Railyard was now part of a safe and smooth universe.

“Make sure those A.I. instructions are fully coded and any radiation levels above norm are recorded thoroughly on each report,” ordered Mel to Corporal Aimes as he coded two over regulation radiation spikes on the reactor.

As her shift for the day neared an end, she began to pace and making the Aimes, and Lt. Hays make sure all the maintenance checks were completed. Her orders even felt loud, ringing and echoing in her own ears as if bouncing back from the distance stars.

“Make sure all systems are green lighted and review all energy and atmosphere system logs,” she ordered.

She looked at panels and monitors aiming to ascertain any problems before delivering command back to Capt. Roden, yet she could not hope to see the coming event. Both corporals on the bridge had been relieved by their shift counterparts when Lt. Weld arrived.

“Lt. Weld, to relieve Lt. Hays, sir,” Jenson announced peering around the helm. He was surprised Roden had not taken the deck. Jenson always timed his arrival about 10 to 15 minutes late in order to catch a moment with Mel in the hall since she would only reciprocate a kiss when she was off duty.

“Thank you, Lt. Weld for your announcing the obvious,” answered Mel. She retook her seat and ordered about the personnel including Jenson on maintenance scans required at every shift start even though her crew had just run them prior to shift end.

“Corporal Reel open a commlink to the Captain’s room,” Mel ordered.

“He makes no answer,” responded Reel.

“Lt. Weld, go check on the Capt. at his quarters,” Mel ordered.

“Is that good idea?” questioned Jenson.

“That was an order, Lt.” answered Mel.

Within what only felt like moments, Jenson came over the radios with strain in his voice.

“I need a med tech outside the Captain’s quarters now,” screamed Jenson.

Mel almost leaped from the command chair to check on the situation but instead she took a breath and simply stood up and noted she would check on things.

“Corporal Reel continue scans and go ahead and open a channel to Io base,” Mel ordered.

She felt like calling moon base but technically they were still closer to Io and protocols required contacting the nearest base not the best one.

By the time Mel arrived at the Captain’s door, med tech junior officer Bridget Wyatt was recording her report.

“Captain Phillip Roden died from a heart attack and failed to call medical bay but appears to have attempted to leave his quarters and began walking toward the medical bay. End report 0412, July 4.

“Captain, what would you like us to do?” asked Jenson as he looked up at Mel.

Mel hardly missed a breath and answered, “Help take Capt. Roden to the medical bay, and I will report to command and receive their orders. Officer Wyatt please send your report to command and authenticate in the lab asap,” Mel stated in the most demanding voice she could muster.

Mel returned to the bridge almost in a full run as if someone else could take command and maybe ferry everyone to safety before she reached the bridge.

“Do you have Io base,” Mel barked followed by a deep breath.

“Yes, sir,” answered Reel.

“Is admiral Wimbly available,” asked Mel.

“He is not available,” answered Levi Wood.

Mel felt better seeing a familiar face. “Who is available tech Wood?” asked Mel.

“That is now corporal Wood, sir and Commander Finn is on deck,” smiled Wood.

“It is a matter of urgency so patch me through to commander Finn,” answered Mel.

“Commander Finn, I need to report a death,” Mel stated plainly. Mel realized it was Finn, the Railyard’s former commander who should be sitting in the sit she now possessed.

“Please report, then.” Commander Finn replied seeming half asleep. Mel thought they also just had shift change as well.

“Our medical officer should be uploading and transmitting the report on the death of Capt. Phillip Roden who an estimated 9 minutes ago died from a heart attack.” reported Mel firmly.

Finn sighed and then looked back at the monitor. “I will report to Admiral Wimbly and return orders shortly, Commander Finn out.” Finn stammered and closed the communication.

Mel tried to show no emotion. No nervousness, no sadness, no panic no happiness only straightforward calm of a strong military officer. For the almost two hours since contacting Io. Mel barked orders and had all crew awoken, checked on and informed.

Admiral Wimbly gave Mel the orders to continue the mission to the moon rather than turn back for Io. He ordered she would take full command as acting captain and she would select a second in command. After receiving her orders, she reviewed the personnel files already knowing that Lt. Weld, (her Jenson), was the ranking officer to take second in command with only Lt. Glenn came close to time served. After a quick review, she opened the system and reported to her crew that she would be acting captain and Lt. Weld would assume second in command.

Mel could only envision success of arriving on the moon base as an acting captain upon a ship which before her command was a wheezing death trap.

Her thoughts focused on valor and imaginary achievements. She looked inward and feared nothing in the universe. She was captain. A mother protector to her crew and to a life inside her. She was so pleased with all that she smiled as her eyes surveyed the helm and the part of the crew before her.

Mel working a full second shift began reviewing duty roosters and began remaking schedules. She was planning to be in charge on the bridge except when sleep demanded attention and to double up on the maintenance checks and repair listings. She unlike Roden made hourly checks on engineering. The engineers on Capt. Roden’s shift tired of her constant barrage of scans and questions. Roden had trusted them to do their jobs. Mel feeling the tension in Lt. Glenn’s voice marched down to engineering to verify what problem he was having with her.

Glenn tapping screens fired off complaints loud in clear in the engineering bay for all his fellow engineers to here. Yet, it was Mel’s ears that caught most of it as she padded down the hallway and entered engineering. Mel expected his torrent of complaints to end as he eyed her entrance but instead, he quickly offered his complaints more voice.

“Captain! Why the hell are we working double duties to fix and repair this space hunk of metal when we land on the moon it will most likely be stripped for scrap,” demanded Glenn.

“Because I gave you an order, Lt.” answered Mel.

“Well, Lt. Commander, it is a pointless order,” Glenn answered back harshly.

Mel did not answer since her eye caught a red flashing light on the hull integrity scan.

“What the hell is that?” asked Mel.

Glenn turned and then simply turned back with the words, “that panel flashes hull integrity loss about every 12 hours.”

“It is an electrical problem or a trapped oxygen bubble on the outside of the ship making the sensors read a problem where none exists,” he explained.

Mel tapped her com device and ordered three two-man crews to check all systems deck locks, and electrical conduits for any possible signs of possible hull damage including micro meteor collisions.

Glenn had been a crony of Capt. Roden and served faithfully on the Railyard for all three of Roden’s helmships.

“A panel blinking light doesn’t mean a damn anything,” Glenn yelped as Mel tapped screens looking for the damage to the outer hull through video feeds from the outside of the ship.

Glenn wasn’t a bad officer just one who chose easy of duty over diligent duty. Glenn did not fear work but now felt the blows of unappreciation still serving as third in command with two rookies at the helm.

Glenn continued barking explanations of the panel light problem to represent his anger and valor. He was taking a stand against a-know nothing Lt. Commander. Each decibel of Glenn’s voice latched onto Mel like hands trying to rip away her uniform to display her feminine form so all could see she was unfit for the Captain’s chair.

“Captain, we have a radiation heat notice on reactor one as well,” Corporal Aimes reported over the monitors as Mel tuned out Glenn’s words and focused in on what appeared to be severe problems all at once.

CHAPTER 4: Bob and weave

A month later it would be Mel answering pointed questions on the incident as it later came to be referred. Mel tried to honestly answer the questions and describe the decisions and the outcomes.

“The ship felt like it was breathing into space as if the very oxygen we needed to breathe was rushing away from us,” she said when asked how she felt at the moment when giving the order to abandon the ship.

Feelings and thoughts were not the bits of information the military tribunal on the moon sought. They sought hard facts, yet the facts were harsh when removing the thoughts involved.

Mel stood elevated in the witness-box with burning cheeks in a cool lighted room with all eyes zeroing in on her. Each face staring her down was attentive, spellbound. The three-man tribunal looking down from their perch and a line of orderly rows containing witnesses, on lookers, other officers and her family- and of course the web cameras. Each set of ears appeared to perk upward and sucking in each of her words. Her expression and words fascinated and enslaved their attention.

Her voice rang out startling her own ears, it felt like the only voice audible in the whole room in the whole of space. Each word of her words rang out like trying to fill some large void. The questions distinct and harsh cut out her answers into shapes of anguish and pain within her breast.

The questions cut deep like each one questioned her very conscience. Not even the core of the sun burned like the questions did in her mind.

All three members of the military commission sat silently, clean shaven and impassable as stone statues. The lights behind their heads produced a halo effect almost but these were no angels for each sat in judgement of one that they could never walk in her shoes.

Lt. Col. Ellis Burton wanted facts. Demanded facts from her as if the facts contained answers about chosen actions, mistakes made or a life loss.

“After you had concluded the ship was leaking oxygen from only a red-light panel blinking and that the reactor field was releasing high amounts of radiation. Did you think it likely that a hull breech would occur?” asked Lt. Col. Burton. Burton tossed the question from his desk. Sitting calmly looking at Mel with questioning green eyes wanting Mel to answer quickly and with every ounce of truth.

The lead judge, Admiral Everett Willis, drummed heavily with his fingertips on to the video pad reviewing the ship’s data, logs, video feeds and other testimony as Mel testified. To his right General William Winston, upright in a roomy chair and inclined slightly and crossed his arms focusing on Mel’s words and facial expressions. To his left, Admiral Garcia Watson hunched forward as if leaning closer would gain an advance on the words colliding to ears from Mel’s lips.

“I did not,” answered Mel. “I reacted with caution and ordered a check all systems deck locks, and electrical conduits for any possible signs of possible hull damage including micro meteor collisions.” She recited the answer mimicking her exact order.

“I thought the precaution and orders reasonable at the time,” added Mel without any prodding.

“An oxygen leak from prisoner Bay 12 was reported with loss of 12,000 micro liters a minute and at that moment it was reported that reactor one was building up heat and radiation which could cause an immediate overload,” answered Mel.

I personally went to the bay and examined the sensors and could physically feel oxygen escaping down the 158th seam and line in the bay.” Again, answering precisely. “I know this could be a major hull problem as the oxygen escape began to increase and at the same time, I had reports of our main reactor failing to cool with a possible radiation leak.”

“Yes,” a questioning word falling from the Admiral Willis’ mouth as if asking more and more as his fingers played incessantly touching the video pad without a noise.

“I did not think of the exact danger of hull breach just then. It did startle me that my hand could feel the softness of the inner hull and my very breath escaping into space. It all happened in such a quiet way, and I knew that a breach could happen suddenly and with the age and poor condition of the ship that a single hull breach or reactor meltdown would end it,” Answered Mel still looking through the Lt. Col. Burton to her father in the last row of seats.

“I went back to the command deck to review all systems and order the bay and hull breached sealed,” continued Mel. “I ran into Ensign Chandler who had what appeared to be radiation burn on the right hand when he had stripped off a glove and touched reactor panel 12.”

Chandler had exclaimed to me “The reactor is a goner. The whole ship is finally going to exploded into space.”

“I ordered Chandler to report to the med bay and quickened my run to the command deck,” said Mel. “While running to the command deck I contacted Glenn in the engine room and had him send an engineer to the reactor to see what repairs could be done.”

She continued to describe the whole incident. She remembered each moment swiftly and with exact vividness as if the whole memory was on a video feed. If only the video feed on the ship had not failed so close to the moments of great choices, her rendition could have been viewed clearly on the video pads.

After her feelings of doubt, she decided only a meticulous precise telling would enlighten all to the view she had as Captain. The facts all were so eager to grab at may be visible, tangible, open to the senses and occupying an exact space and time yet the condition of the ship, her responsibility to the crew, the blackness and cold of space and the life inside her created features-shades of the facts- to the incident that were complicated. Complications not remembered by the eye but felt in the heart, mind soul and in the womb.

She anxiously wanted all to see to witness to darkness of the situation. This decision, the ship and its crew were not a common affair- all had been uncommon, so common reactions did not apply. She continued with facts of the incident remembering every nuance and every word. The truth and all its shades must be known.

Her mind did not rest on any single word or command. No doubt existed in her heart. She uttered with deliberate cause her orders, her thoughts and how each person followed those orders on the ship.

Her only pauses came when her mind became too distracted trying to recall every exact detail down to which minute the onboard A.I. diagnostics failed. She wanted them all to see every moment – to see no weak spot existed in her decision

“When I arrived on deck the A.I. diagnostics voice noted oxygen leak, reactor failure and then shutdown,” said Mel. “With no definite answer on the leaks or the reactor and the onboard computer now down. I assigned corporal Stinson to try to get the onboard A.I. going again and ordered all hull camera feeds reviewed prior to A.I. failure.”

“I wanted to know exactly how many leaks the hull had and if the ship could be saved,” said Mel. “I felt I had a clearer idea of the danger now.”

She paused as her emotions caught up to her mind. She shivered as she felt the examination of the three military officers sitting in judgment along with all those seated in the room.

Lt. Col. Burton noticing Mel’s pause and dashed in a question, “So this is when you felt the danger merited abandonment of the ship.”

Mel’s eyes wandered over the watchers perched in the rows of seats. She heard the question and almost screamed “What is the point?” She felt abandoned into the darkness of space now. Then her eyes feel upon Master Chief Burke. His was not the fascinated stare of all others watching. His was a look of hope, a look of concern and a look of a man wishing to jump into that sea of blackness to reach out with a lifesaving hand.

Mel returned her focus to answering the questions. While they had no purpose for her, for her future or for this tribunal- they had a purpose of reassuring Burke that his faith in her was not a mistake.

She thought, “I may never speak another day in my life, but I will speak the truth today.” She then returned to answering the questions.

Mel with her soft features gave off the hard military exterior yet had hidden soft spots which would be sliced open and displayed to all.

Mel envied the sailors of yore. The ones who used the stars to find their steps and could manage to go in the direction they needed without one faulty step. Among the stars, her footsteps had failed her on a path of glory and right.

Master Chief Burke when telling stories of her would always remember the flare in her green eyes and the piercing view she returned to all who glanced upon her.

CHAPTER 5: Burke

“Wounded inside her heart and all questioning her bravery, she brushed back her dark hair and put on display her true bravery by not bending to anyone and honestly telling them all what happened that day,” described Burke. “I attended each day. I felt like I owed it to myself to witness how a good-hearted soul with so-much bravery tangles with failure. It is painful to watch but helped me to fight my own demons in the future.”

Every space faring eye watched it on the videos or tried to attend at least part of the inquiry. The circumstances of the first ever abandoned military ship caught all’s attention and made for great headlines since it was a female commander that most remarked as “Captain ‘Pretty’ abandons hundreds in space” or the “Beautiful bombshell explodes under command pressure”.

Jokes and sensational headlines were the norm for the subject with all feeling the outcome for Captain Hottie would be to be in hot water.

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Master Chief Burke working near engineering on the Mabus heard the call over the radio that a prison ship had been abandoned and that most of the crew were in life pods in space while some had been trapped aboard. He went into full motion to help in the rescue bays when he heard a familiar name as captain of the vessel.

She carried much more rank than when he lasted laid eyes on her. He knew she was destined for greatness but never realized she would move up so quickly. He ran through his mind what astonishingly bad circumstances would make such a person with the nerves of steel bend to abandonment in space.

Burke arrived at the bays as they were hauling in the escape pods, most were within a few kilometers of each other and were quickly aboard. The Mabus had established communication with the Railyard to find that the ship had regained all systems but did wish for an escort to the moon base. Second in command Jensen Weld also requested that one more escape pod be retrieved- the one holding the new Captain.