Totaled

Totaled: Part 3

An hour later, things were both better and worse. The alarm had been quelled, for starters. And Caspar hadn't found any stowaways—not yet, anyway—so there was that. Maybe the best news should have been that, after a conclusive series of manual sweeps, tactical had definitively denied the presence of any Earth warships.

But Dolridge didn't feel good. Not that he remembered what 'good' felt like, per se. But he felt uneasy about the whole stinking thing. Because without a reboot or anything, apparently even nav was now reporting all clear. That just didn't make sense. Real or not, tiny armadas didn't just disappear into the vacuum of space. Something was wrong.

He fastened the top button of his uniform shirt and splashed a handful of cold water on his face, then left the lav, heading for the Captain's quarters.

Old Gray didn't drink the way Dolridge did. But he certainly did love his solitude. And out here, patrolling the fringes of Kuiper-Colony space, that was okay. A crew hardly needed a captain, because all the crew needed to do was keep the ship moving.

Their current course was a wide solar orbit about ten AUs beneath the orbit of Saturn. They were basically a high-cost security camera, set in place to monitor any inner-system ships that tried to enter Kuiper-space from below. And whatever excitement was to be had between the colonies and the inner forces seemed to stay up on the orbital planes. People just didn't fly down here. The only UFOs they ever came across were hunks of space junk.

Their cargo hold was a testament to this. It held the ruined remains they'd scooped up: bits and pieces of other starships; empty escape pods; dated, irrelevant fighters. It was a service they provided to the fleet.

So they were on duty in the sewer of the solar system, and Captain Gray was the plumber. He didn't care for it much, so he spent most of his time cooped up in his cabin with his private library. Which left Dolridge to preside over the let-downs and to babysit the occasional green officer sent their way for an inauspicious first tour.

His com beeped and he answered.

"Sir? It's Officer Caspar, Sir."

Ah. Speaking of the green ones.

"What is it, Officer?"

"Maybe nothing, Sir, but we've been unable to validate a log entry from—"

"If it may be nothing, it can wait. Dolridge out." He snapped off the com and buzzed for entrance. The doors slid open.

Captain Earnest Gray sat in his antique armchair beside his faux fireplace, an ancient trade paperback in hand. His feet, clad in velvety red slippers, were up on a stool, ankles crossed. Dolridge suppressed a sneer. Captains shouldn't cross their ankles. Not when an officer could see.

"Dolridge." Gray acknowledged him without raising his eyes. "How's the run?"

"Smooth as butter, Sir. That is, we're gliding along fine. But, ah..."

Gray glanced at him from behind his book. "Spit it out, XO."

"It's probably nothing, Sir." He blushed, hearing Caspar's voice in his own. "A few quirks here and there. Nav thought she spotted a bevy of Earth ships, comp sounded the UP alarm. Both came to nothing. Scans complete, system recalibrated, nothing. Still, just thought you should know."

Gray pursed his lips. "Didn't we have a specialist come in to debug before we left Pluto?"

"Aye, Sir." Dolridge raised his eyebrows. "Guess they must have missed something. I'll keep an eye on her for a relapse."

"Mmm." Gray's eyes found his book again. Dolridge inclined his head and turned to go. "Gavin." Dolridge stopped cold. He hated it when people called him that.

"Sir?"

"What about our new munitions officer... Caspar?"

"What about her, Sir?"

"She doing alright?"

"She's doing enough. Maybe too much."

"Hmm." The captain brought his book down. "She was top of her class at the academy. I hear the jealousy of an old spacedog."

Dolridge cracked a half-smile in spite of himself. "With respect, Sir, it takes one to know one."

Gray nodded. "Were we young once?"

The XO shook his head. "Not me, sir. Someone else just borrowing my face for a while."

"You know, she reminds me of someone we once knew."

Dolridge clenched his jaw.

Gray's voice sank to a whisper. "It wasn't your fault."

"Sir." Dolridge's voice had gone cold. "I'll beon the bridge." He left the captain in silence. 

To be continued...