FIFTEEN

On the way back around, Graydon steered the party past the small-arms munitions lined with ABPro-34 Assault Rifles, G29X

Gause Rifles and Heavy PPGs, and through the living quarters and operations rooms used by the company of EarthForce Marines seconded to the Titans.

Waiting there to greet them was Captain Henry Dorland. He stood ramrod straight, staring directly ahead as he saluted the General first. Somehow he had managed to have his hair cut even shorter than Lefcourt’s. His pink scalp glistened under the harsh lights.

“Captain Henry Dorland, sir,” he said introducing himself.

“At ease Captain,” Ivanova said, letting him know who was actually in charge of the vessel.

“Captain Dorland commands the Marine detachment assigned to the Titans,” Graydon explained to Senator Feldon.

“And how many marines do you currently have aboard the ship?” Feldon asked.

“One-hundred-and-twenty men, sir,” Dorland replied.

“But we have the facilities to carry a total of eighty thousand troops into combat if the situation requires it,”

Graydon informed the Senator.

“Eighty thousand,” Senator Feldon said. “Very impressive,”

He turned to Vathek and was surprised to find that his aide was no longer accompanying him.

“Mister Vathek was taken ill, sir, and returned to the shipyard facility,” Ivanova diplomatically informed him.

“Yes,” Feldon said, trying to recover himself, “very impressive indeed. And how many crew did you say?”

“Twelve-hundred men, sir,” Graydon replied even though she hadn’t mentioned the exact figure before.

As they continued their way forward, Graydon escorted the Senator through the kitchens and dining halls, pointing out the recreational areas used by the crew during the precious hours of leisure time when they were not on duty or asleep in their bunks.

“Regular exercise is mandatory for all EarthForce personnel who spend extended time in zero gravity,” Graydon explained as they looked in on the gymnasiums. “Even though we boast gravimetric technology aboard the Titans, crew are still expected to keep themselves fit and healthy.”

Much to Graydon’s chagrin, Feldon made a point of looking at Lefcourt’s barrel chest as she made her point, making her hurry them along to the ship’s libraries, which contained an expansive range of vids and texts for the crew’s entertainment. The Senator chuckled when he found Rebo and Zooty listed in the library archive, which caused Ivanova and Mitchell, standing behind Feldon to look across to one another and shake their heads.

Life is absurd enough without those two clowns getting in on the act, Ivanova thought to herself as they continued on.

“The common rooms for the officers and crew can easily be reconfigured to hold special events,” Graydon explained as she

showed them into one such room that was laid out with an assortment of tables and easy chairs, and screens on the far walls.

“You hold many special events?” the Senator asked.

“The larger ships usually have quite a surprisingly full social calendar,” Lefcourt interjected, “which helps to crew to fill what can be considered the monotony of extremely long voyages. Everything that can keep morale high we aim to provide.”

“You need good morale to run a good ship,” Senator Feldon said to Ivanova who was unsure how to interpret his meaning.

Doctor Evan Benton had given up on waiting for the inspection party to come his way. There was no discernable point in keeping the doctors and nurses under his command standing in line in the Titan’s MedLab while there were still supply cartons that needed to be unpacked before their departure. While his staff finished stocking the cabinets, Benton sat at his desk updating his database with medical histories of the crew. Doctor Stephen Franklin of Babylon 5 had recently sent the records of the Titans new Captain. Benton was engrossed in the last entries of her report when he heard Graydon enter the medical facility.

“And this is where the crew come when they need to be fixed back together again,” she said.

With the Maintenance Department further back down the corridor, Benton surmised it was a lame segue by Graydon who appeared to be running out of steam as a tour guide. Even the inspection party showed signs of flagging. Senator Feldon still appeared interested, although the knot of jaw muscles that clenched and unclenched, causing a slight tremor on either side of his face, suggested this was simply pretence. Benton was more interested in his new Captain. Going through the motions of introducing his team of doctors, nurses and medical assistants, he kept an eye on Ivanova who returned salutes, but seemed to show little interest otherwise.

“Although primarily used as operating rooms,” he explained, showing off the six hermetically sealed Isolabs “the facilities mean we can treat patients who need to be effectively quarantined from the rest of the crew. Or if the situation should arise, a different species that requires an alternate atmosphere.”

“Hopefully you rarely get to use them?” Feldon said.

“Well, the crew are subject to much the same wear and tear as the ship,” Benton told the Senator.

Leaving the nurses to direct the Senator to the Rest & Recovery Ward, where bed were available to accomodate one hundred crewmen, Benton sidled up to Ivanova.

“Captain Ivanova, care to be our first patient?” Benton asked.

“Oh, you’re good,” Ivanova replied.

The ache in her head had grown, drumming a beat against the back of her eyeball since they had passed through the kitchens where Feldon had taken his sweet time sampling all the dishes being prepared for the crew. Ivanova had found herself

distracted, gently massaging her temple as her eyelids fluttered closed to ease the pain.

“If I don’t tout for business we just sit here surrounded by a lot of empty beds. And your medical file doesn’t list you as having a squint.”

“It’s just a headache,” she told him.

”And when did you first notice the symptoms?” Benton asked.

“Not long after coming aboard,” Ivanova said.

“Ah, the pressure of responsibility, made manifest.”

He looked around to see that they were alone then went to the dispensary and returned with a small hypospray. He loaded a cartridge and shot the contents straight into Ivanova’s neck.

“Well, that should do it for now. Stop by if you need anything else,” Benton said as Nurse Farber escorted Senator Feldon and General Lefcourt back into MedLab.

Eventually they passed the officers quarters and entered the red-hinted corridor that lead to the bridge of the Titans. Graydon slowed her pace, dropping back until she was bringing up the rear so that the senior officers could arrive first.

“Captain on deck!” Berensen announced as Ivanova escorted Senator Feldon onto the bridge.

At their posts the crew immediately broke off from their work and stood to attention. Ivanova looked around at the faces staring straight ahead and wondered if their expressions would have been any different had she come alone and not with an EarthForce Senator and a high-ranking General.

“So, this is where it all happens,” Feldon said. He looked toward the large screen that filled most of one wall of the bridge that displayed boxed scanner readouts, a graphic of the Cyrus System and the seven planets orbiting the G6

V sun, and included a column of monitors that displayed the views fore and aft of the Titans.

“Very impressive indeed,” Feldon told Ivanova.

“Thank you, sir,” Ivanova said, smiling as the pain in her head slowly ebbed away.

As Lefcourt and Mitchell steered themselves away to talk to the crew and examine the upgraded consoles that circled the back of the bridge, Ivanova found herself alone with the Senator. He stepped up to the captain’s chair ahead of her on the raised central dais.

“May I?” he asked.

“It would be an honour,” Ivanova said

“A fleet of this magnitude will certainly help protect Earth’s interests now that we have become part of this new Interstellar Alliance,” he announced as he settled into the chair.

For a while he seemed to forget where he was, gently swivelling from side to side as he became lost in his own train of thought. Ivanova and the crew around her stood quietly waiting. It was only when the monitors switched to port and starboard views of the ship and images of the Apollo floating alongside and the distant shipyard rushing to complete the next

trio of Warlock-class Destroyers flashed up in front of him that the Senator seemed to come around and remember where he was.

“Yes, very impressive indeed,” he told Ivanova as he stood up. Across the bridge Ivanova saw Berensen press another button and flip the screens back to the original fore and aft views.

“An honour to meet you all,” the Senator said to the bridge crew. He licked his lips, showing he was more than ready to sample any refreshments on offer.

“Well Captain, I don’t think we should take up more of your time, now that you have a ship to launch” Lefcourt told Ivanova, saving her from having to ask the Senator to leave.

“Yes,” Feldon grudgingly agreed as they ushered him off the bridge.

“Thanks,” Ivanova whispered to Graydon. “That was above and beyond the call of duty. Take a breather while I see them to the door.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Graydon who actually smiled at her.