Captain's Away! Chapter Fifteen
"Raizada"
Captain’s Away! is a long form, weekly serial. New chapters come out every week (more or less). Comments and suggestions welcome as we go along.
You can find the master index of all the chapters by clicking the orange Captain’s Away Index button below:
Previously in Captain’s Away!
Marie-Josée’s parents, Yolande and Bertrand Doucette, are trapped in an emergency bunker floating aimlessly in space with thirty-five other survivors. Her brother, Alain, is missing and presumed dead. But although Marie-Josée’s body is unconscious and in the emergency bunker with her parents, another part of her is having an entirely different experience.
Unaware of the tragedy that has befallen the space station Northumberland and her parents and brother, Marie-Josée’s mind, it seems, has awoken elsewhere: on board a starship called the Beausoleil where she’s being addressed as “Captain” by a man who’s identified himself as Commander Saito. Deeply concerned about his captain’s state-of-mind, Commander Saito confines Marie-Josée to her cabin and, from the bridge, witnesses the destruction of the Northumberland.
Chapter Fifteen
“Raizada”
Raizada was over-tired. Usually, he needed a good six hours of consecutive shuteye before he felt anywhere near rested. More if he could get it. On board the Beausoleil, he was lucky to get four. Last night, following the destruction of the Northumberland, he’d only gotten three, and that was a technical three. Three hours in bed, not necessarily asleep. How can you sleep when your adrenalin is through the roof knowing that a Realm battleship is out there somewhere, and that if you go to sleep you might never wake up again?
Raizada had swung by the ship’s canteen for a large cup of coffee hoping it might keep him awake for the next few hours. It was his bad luck that the commander was already on the Bridge when he got there. He had been hoping to beat him to the Bridge, maybe score some minor points that way. Certainly not get caught with a cup of coffee in his hands. As Raizada relieved the alternate pilot and took over the helm, Saito glared at him. Of course, a bit of stink-eye from the commander was nothing new. Now, to get something other than stink-eye from the man—that would have been something to write home about.
“What do I need to know?” Raizada asked Gallant, his alternate, as he took her place.
Technically, Gallant should have filled out a log detailing the events of her shift, but she hadn’t. Too busy, too tired, too stressed out. Frequently guilty of the same, Raizada didn’t blame her.
“We’re keeping our distance,” Gallant told him. “We’re pretty sure the Atul is gone but we’re playing it safe. And we’re getting ready to fetch Doc. Guess that’ll be your job.”
Raizada grunted noncommittally. Rendezvousing with the emergency bunker to retrieve Corpsman Javad would not be an issue. It was a part of his job, and he was exceptionally good at his job. It was everything else that made him nervous. Such as the possibility of the Atul still being out there. He was pretty sure that if the Realm battleship really wanted to find them, it would.
He did his best to conceal his anxiety. He observed that his right hand, the one holding the cup of coffee, was trembling slightly. Not a great sign. He set the cup down before he accidentally spilled anything. The trembling stopped. Yeah, remaining in this space—anywhere within the same system as the Atul, really—was risky if you asked him.
Nobody asked him.
Anyway, no wonder Gallant looked so bleary-eyed and grateful to see him.
Doing his best to sound cheerful, he said, “Thanks for the info.”
Gallant stumbled off the Bridge without a backward glance.
Raizada wasted no time getting down to it, familiarizing himself with their current position, calculating the logistics of rendezvousing with the emergency bunker, and so on. The lighting was still set for early morning. He was grateful for that. It would be some time before he’d be ready for the harsh glare of—
“Lights,” Saito ordered.
Raizada winced at the sudden brightness, meant to replicate what scientists calculated had been a typical sunny day on Earth before the human race had effectively evicted itself. The scientists (and, evidently, Saito) believed that this made crews alert and put them in a good mood. If so, Raizada begged to differ—it just made him irritable. He reached reflexively for his coffee and accidentally jostled the cup, spilling some near the controls of the navigation console. Oops. Hopefully Saito hadn’t seen—
A shadow fell over Raizada.
Raizada looked up, then down again, not wanting to meet that glare.
“Sub-Lieutenant Raizada.” Saito’s tone was deceptively mild.
A part of Raizada was surprised that Saito even remembered his name. It was not a name that crossed the Commander’s lips often.
“Yes, Commander?”
“Explain to me how you propose flying this ship after you fry the controls with your damned coffee.”
Raizada was acutely aware of the presence of the rest of the crew on the Bridge, the three of them now deeply immersed in their own tasks, pretending that this conversation wasn’t happening. Raizada had no good defense and he knew it. Drinks on the Bridge were strictly forbidden. It was, in fact, an appalling error in judgment, a mistake that he had never made before. Had he forgotten because he was so tired? It didn’t matter. He needed to do better than that.
“I’m sorry, Commander. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Saito waved a hand dismissively. “Get it off the Bridge.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Raizada managed three more quick sips before disposing of the coffee in the universal washroom adjacent to the Bridge. It wasn’t enough caffeine to keep him alert, not by a long shot, but it would have to do. When he returned to the helm Saito appeared to have forgotten about it, thank God. The Commander looked even more tense than usual, if the vein bulging in his left temple was any indication.
“Prepare for rendezvous,” Saito said. “Helm, are you with us?”
“Uh—” Raizada was feeling a little flustered. “The coordinates—did Javad—?”
Saito punched data into the console on his chair. The numbers showed up on Raizada’s console. Raizada remembered to double check the figures before taking manual control of the Beausoleil’s helm. This suggested that he was starting to wake up, which was good. Unfortunately, Saito was now staring at him, jeopardizing his focus, which was bad.
He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the man. He scanned the environment surrounding the ship before gradually moving the Beausoleil forward. Before long the ship began to encounter what was left of the Northumberland. Raizada manoeuvred the ship around big chunks (no point wasting energy if it could be avoided) while the Thornton Shields fried the rest. There was no sign of the enemy. According to the coordinates provided by Javad, one big chunk rotating slowly several kilometres out was the emergency bunker. It was moving at a good clip, having been propelled away from the Northumberland by the force of its destruction.
“Beausoleil to Javad,” Saito said.
No response. Waiting, Raizada feared the worst.
Finally, a burst of static. “Javad here.” The signal was faint but clear.
“Prepare for boarding,” Saito said.
“Commander, there are thirty-seven other—”
“Stop right there,” Saito interrupted. “I told you. We’re coming for you. No one else. Okay? If this is going to be an issue, we won’t be coming for you either.”
There was a pause. “All right, Commander. I understand.”
“Okay. Now. You got this?” This last was directed at Raizada.
Raizada was a hell of a pilot. He knew it. Everyone knew it, mainly because he never let anyone forget it. But he was tired now, his judgment suspect. The Beausoleil would help, of course (she could have done it all, except that machine intelligence was never allowed to do it all, not since the last robot rebellion) but even that didn’t eliminate the danger entirely. Because this was space. Raizada never allowed himself to forget that space was out to get him.
Still, rendezvousing with the emergency bunker shouldn’t be that much of a problem. All he needed to do was park the Beausoleil close enough to minimize both travel time and the risk of the shuttle getting struck by debris. The real challenge would be getting the Beausoleil through the debris field. That, and keeping his eyes open, and remaining conscious.
“You bet,” he told his boss. “I got this.”
Help me make this chapter better! What do you think? Let me know in the comments!
This has been an installment of the ongoing serial Captain’s Away! A Strange Dimensions book.
Also by Joe Mahoney: A Time and a Place
An unlikely hero travels to other worlds and times to save a boy who does not want to be saved in this unique and imaginative adventure, by turns comic and tragic.
Follow Joe Mahoney and Donovan Street Press Inc. on: Goodreads, Bluesky, Threads, Mastadon, Facebook, and Instagram