“She did not take that well. So she took it out on the carrier fighter wing, attempting to enforce her sense of military decorum on us. I think the ship’s company feels sorry for us. Things always tend to go a little wrong during her ceremonies. The lights will flicker on the flight deck or the public address system will go out. One time general quarters were called during the middle of a parade. Another time the ventilators on the flight deck kept switching on and off, causing the flags to blow one way then the next. She never did figure out that the airflow kept the flags blowing in her face. I think the captain figured out what was going on and put a stop to it, but occasionally something strange will still happen. You want to try some of my Super Cargo?”
Kelly looked at the giant snail thing he was eating and figured that must be what he was referring to. “Is that what that thing is called?”
“Sure, they taste better than they look. They grow these things on Rosencrantz in the Deneb system. They are quite a delicacy. They taste a little bit like Conch from Earth. Has a very buttery taste.”
“That’s okay. I think I’ll pass on the slug for the time being. I’ve traveled a lot with my folks and eaten a lot stranger food. I just wanted chicken tonight. So, tell me about CPT Willis. What is she like?”
“Janey, actually, you’d better not call her that unless you’d like to have your posterior handed back to you in pieces, is all right. She’s a pretty good pilot, is fair in her dealings with the flight, and she can be really funny after she’s had a few drinks. She’s only been a captain for a few months, so she isn’t too much of a stickler for military courtesies, but she is still a captain. We use our first names on the radio when we fly in formation. She calls us by our first names and we call her boss.”
“If you have any romantic notions toward her, forget it. I think she and a Major in the 73rd Fighter Squadron have a thing going.”
“No, I just want to know that she can handle her fighter.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s damn good. She can fly circles around most of the pilots in the squadron. She might even give you a run for your money. Did you really smoke everyone you flew against in transition school?”
“Well, yeah I did, almost. I flew a few of them to a draw. I tended not to fly how people expected. It also helped that I was able to reprogram the flight computer. I could make the fighter do things that weren’t quite expected. They would come after me thinking they were going to make an easy kill. Next thing they knew, I was behind them and their damage sim was lighting up. I probably got lucky in my first few engagements, but by that time I had analyzed their tactics against others and me. I was able to adjust to give them a run for their money. The more of them I flew against, the better I got.”
“I’ll have to get you to teach me a few of your tricks. Now we’d better get you out of here and get you some rack time if you're going to see the old man in the morning. Come on.”
They left the dining room and moved down the passageway to the cabin shared by four junior officers. The layout was Spartan, with twin bunks on either side of the room. Two small side-by-side desks on the far bulkhead separated the bunks. Four wardrobes divided off the center of the room. The wardrobes had hanging storage above and drawers below. There wasn’t much storage, but he didn’t have much to store. Kelly felt it would be enough. The other two officers weren’t present. John said, “You get the top bunk. When you outrank someone in the room, you can have the bottom bunk. Watch your head on the piping and electrical races in the overhead.”
Kelly smiled and returned to the present. He looked around at his much more spacious quarters here on Antares Base and dropped off to sleep.
When the alarm went off, Kelly got up to prepare for the reception. He checked his terminal and there was a message from his parents waiting for him.
Andrew Blake’s face appeared in a video file when he clicked on the message. It was a middle aged version of Kelly’s own face staring back at him. “Son, how are you doing? We just found out what happened to you in the Fighter Force. Your mother is sick about it. I’ve met old Bugger Off and I know what you must have gone through. She’s an idiot. We got your message that you transferred to the Scout Force. Admiral Craddock is a good egg. You should do a lot better under him than you did with Bugger Off.”
“Your mom and I just got back from Aldebaran. We’ve been working on something for the Galactic Republic. You should hear something in the news in a month or so. We can’t say anything just yet. Just know that it will cause some big changes.”
Kelly wondered what his folks were working on now. Knowing his dad’s predilection for understatement, this would be something astounding. Considering all the areas his dad was involved in, it could be anything.
“Son, we are going to be on Armstrong in a couple of months. Your mother and I would love to see you. Let us know what your schedule will be. We are flexible and will be there for a few months. Now here’s your mother.”
Moira Blake appeared. “Son, send us a video. We want to see what you look like in your Fleet uniform. Between your school and travels and our travels, we hardly get to see each other. We are really looking forward to seeing you when we get to Armstrong. We’re going to be there for a while, so there should be lots of opportunities to meet up with you. I am very much looking forward to seeing you. Take care of yourself.”
Kelly prepared his uniform and put it on. The Scout Force mess dress uniform wasn’t bad. The chief had done a good job finding a well-tailored replacement for the baggy thing that General Bugarov had arranged for him. The pants were white with a black stripe up the leg. The waist length white dinner jacket had black piping along the collar. His Gold Fighter Wings sat above his single row of miniature medals.
His single gold stripe, signifying his rank, looked lonely on his sleeve. He would be glad to add the half stripe of a Lieutenant, Junior Grade in three months. As he looked in the mirror, he thought the uniform looked pretty good on him. He didn’t care for the low quarter dress shoes. He missed his calf-length Fighter Force boots.
Kelly made a quick video to his folks. He told them what he thought his schedule would be for the next few months. He left out that he would be starting a month-long patrol at the beginning of next month. If they were to be here for a few months, they would have plenty of time to get together after his patrol was completed. He did a fashion show walk around the room so his mom could see his uniform, signed off, sent the video, then left for the reception.
Admiral Craddock’s quarters were not ostentatious. It was a larger than normal house by base standards, but unlike all of the other admirals on base, it was a single-story house. What it lacked in grandeur, it made up for in features and landscaping. The house’s exterior, walls and walkways were built in a blue stone from the local quarry. The grounds were magnificent, with plants of all types and coloration tastefully blended into a pleasing bouquet. Whoever did their gardening was an artist.
As he got out of the shuttle, he pushed the transportation complete button and it went on its way. He walked up to the front door, rang the bell, and waited. An attractive woman in her early-fifties answered the door.
“Hello, Ensign, come in. I'm Amy Craddock. Tom is in the back mixing drinks. Let me take your hat.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am. I’m Kelly Blake.”
She took his hat and hung it on a hook on an antique hall mirror. It had to be several hundred years old. It was in marvelous shape, and Kelly could see the frame was made of real wood, some sort of dark grainy wood. The finish was so well done that Kelly felt he was looking down through the grain of the wood. He looked into the parlor and saw several other antiques tastefully blended in with the more modern furniture that obviously was Fleet issue. Kelly resolved not to sit on any of the antiques.