Salvage-5: The Next Mission (First Contact) Read online

  “And the mission, General, I assume, is to repair the jump ring?”

  “That is one part of your mission, Colonel.”

  “So, you’re saying we’ll be pretty much stranded out there again, like Hargrove and Samuels, until we fix this jump-ring.”

  “That is a true statement as well.”

  “Well now, that seems simple enough. I trust they have sent you a complete manifest of equipment to bring them?”

  “We have been in regular contact with the orbiting CSMO for the last six months.”

  “Why is the CSMO still orbiting? Shouldn’t they be mining? How are they refueling and producing air and water if they’re not mining?”

  “We’re sending containers from another mining dredge that’s ten days away. They’ve been delivering essential resources on a regular basis since the accident. They’ve been feeding the CSMO raw materials over the last six months. The production isn’t optimal, but it’s enough to make air, water, and refuel their support ships.”

  “That’s all fine and well, General. But that didn’t answer my question as to why they’re not mining?”

  “That’s the other part of your mission.”

  “What? The CMSO take some damage?”

  “No, it’s completely functional.”

  “So?”

  “So...the asteroid’s orbit was disrupted by the Liberator’s impact.”

  “Ah, I think I’m beginning to get a clear picture here...and my answer is no, General. I’m not an engineer...I don’t know the first thing about fixing the asteroid orbits...more like a demolition expert, like Hargrove...why not we just take him all his supplies and we’ll make our merry way back to another jump-ring and come back home...yeah, I think that’s a great idea...”

  “No, Colonel. That’s why we’re also sending Lieutenant Buster Clark on the trip. He’s our engineer that will help plan and coordinate fixing the asteroid’s orbit. You will just have to execute.”

  “Who’s this Buster guy, anyway? And how come I never get to pick my team for these missions? I thought that was part of the deal.”

  “Do you know any engineers who can do this?”

  “Well, no...but... I can find someone... I’m sure I...”

  “Colonel, he’s going whether you like it or not.”

  “Well, at least I won’t be out numbered on the trip...it’s going to be hard enough with just two women...” Turning to Cass and Sam, “No offence, you know.”

  “None taken,” Cass smirked.

  “...so when do I get to meet him?”

  “He’s away on business. You’ll get to see him the day you leave.”

  “Really, that’s just swell, General...no training with us, can’t we even do a bridge call or something?”

  “Sorry, Colonel, that’s just not going to be possible... his only function is going to analyze the asteroid’s orbital data and give you the instructions for fixing it.”

  “I see... swell,” Tucker sighed. He pulled out a cigar and lit it, puffed a few times, and blew a large cloud over the General. “And what is our new departure date? Since our good dentist friend isn’t going to sign off for our March 22nd flight.”

  “You’ve been delayed until April 1st.”

  “Is that a joke?”

  “No, why?”

  “April Fool’s Day, really General? I’m not laughing here.”

  “Neither am I,” McKenzie said, leaning forward.

  “Come on, Tucker,” Cass said, glancing over at Sam, “It’s going to be a blast.”

  “Huh huh, right...I’m already laughing my ass off over here.”

  “Colonel, cheer up,” Samantha smiled, “Just take a couple of shots and you’ll be raring to go.”

  “Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day, Captain...are you bucking for another promotion?”

  “No, just making sure you do decide to join us...”

  “Ha! Fool’d ya...I’m not going.”

  “You are too going,” Cass answered.

  “Nope, na uh. Not anymore.”

  “I’ll hold ya down,” Cass said, taking him by the arms, “You get his feet, Sam...”

  The two wrestled Tucker to the ground, kicking and screaming, “Okay, okay! I give; I’ll go already, geez!”

  “That’s more like it, Colonel.” Cassandra said, kissing him on the cheek.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  Whidbey Island Naval Base & Space Port

  Oak Harbor, WA

  Salvage-5 Flight Deck

  Earth Date: 03/31/2065 08:30

  Colonel Petersen climbed the eight foot tall Mechanized Environmental Containment Housing or MECH as it’s called. He closed the man-made diamond reinforced bubble lid, buckled his harness, and flipped on the power control.

  “Cass...you read me?” Tucker asked, puffing his short stubbed cigar.

  “Uh, yeah...loud and clear, Tuck,” Cass answered, strapping herself inside another MECH.

  “What’s the matter, Sassy-Cassie? Did ja’ party a little too hardy last night?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Colonel...and why do you always insist on getting drunk before every mission anyway?”

  “Did you get drunk last night, Cass? Wow, I really need to get you into counseling,” Tucker said through his teeth between puffs.

  “You were there; right alongside of me...you ought to know.”

  “Well, I feel perfectly fine...”

  “How’s that?”

  “I wasn’t drunk.”

  Tucker maneuvered his MECH across the flight line to the containers for loading into the ship’s cargo bay, Cass, followed close behind.

  “I feel perfectly fine this morning...besides; I never drink to excess...”

  “Pfff, yeah right,” Cassie muttered.

  “What was that? I think your wireless is acting up. It sounds like you got lots of static,” Tucker smirked, and then raised his bubble lid to vent his smoke.

  “Very funny, Tuck...and yes, you do drink to excess.”

  “Define Excess...”

  “Tucker...”

  “So, let me guess...does your head ache?”

  “Yes.”

  “...does your body feel swollen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Head spinning?”

  “Yep.”

  “...does your body feel like your gonna just puke your breakfast?”

  Cass slowed her MECH coming alongside Tucker’s. She looked over through the bubble top, “Ugh,” she moaned, “I do now...”

  “Yep, classic sign of excess...now you see, I on the other hand feel great...thus, no hangover and therefore no sign of excess on my part.”

  “Uh huh...you didn’t eat breakfast, remember?”

  “Did so too eat.”

  “You so too did not...I don’t consider burnt toast breakfast...and how could you eat that, anyway?” Cass turned green just thinking about food.

  “Cass, you don’t look so good. Maybe we ought to have you see a doctor.”

  “Shut up, Tuck...it’s not funny.”

  “You on the other hand, bacon and eggs, hash browns, and pancakes...no wonder you don’ feel so good.”

  “I wanted to make sure I had enough energy for today.”

  “Right...”

  Cass paled with every word Tucker spoke. Just as she hit the palest shade of green, her cheeks puffed out. She raised her bubble cover, leaned over the side and loudly evacuated the contents of her stomach.

  “There, ya go...you see, burnt toast should have been on your menu,” then he pressed a few buttons on his MECH, “Oh yeah...” Tucker said, examining the contents on the ground. He pressed a few buttons on his MECH control panel, “Yep, that’s all part of a balanced breakfast...for anyone not having a hangover.”

  Cassie glared at Tucker before leaning over to empty the rest of her stomach.

  “See, now if you had burnt toast like I suggested, you’d feel great like me right about now.”

  “I don�
��t understand,” Cass panted and then heaved once more, “How can you not feel anything from last night...it’s just not right.”

  “I told you, but you wouldn’t listen...burnt toast is great for calming your stomach.”

  “I know, I know...you said something about the carbon and toxin absorption...that’s just a myth.”

  “Yeah, okay...call it what you will...but the proof is in the pudding...”

  “Oh, stop with the food metaphors already!”

  Tucker smiled and puffed his short stubbed cigar, “Come on, Sassy-Cassie. We need to get this cargo loaded.”

  Cassie wiped her mouth and closed her bubble again, “After you...Colonel.”

  “Why Cassie, I do think I sense a slight amount of pepper in your tone.”

  “I’ll show you pepper if you don’t drop it already.”

  Tucker winked at Cass and then turned his MECH. He expanded the grippers and picked up one of the containers. The machine made whirring and groaning sounds as its hydraulics worked overtime, keeping the container balanced in the air. Cassie followed by picking up another container and followed Tucker up the cargo ramp of the ship.

  Three hours later, Cassie and Tucker parked their MECH’s inside Salvage-5 and climbed down the MECH’s. The machines were secured at each back corner of Salvage-5’s rear cargo hold.

  “Wow, Tuck. I think it was a great idea to add a second MECH bay to the ship.”

  “Yeah, but it does cramp us some.”

  “We had lots of extra space before, but now our ability to carry less cargo...could be an issue, Tuck,” Cass said, wiping the sweat off her brow.

  “You feeling any better, Major?”

  “Tuck, you don’t have to call me that...even though we’re starting our mission...just call me Cass, okay?”

  “Anything you say, Major. So Cass, are ya?”

  “I’m sorry, what? I missed something.”

  “Feeling better? Geez, maybe I should take you for a checkup.”

  “What, and delay the flight again? No thanks to your dentist, not a chance.”

  “Okay, but you don’t want to be sick in space...that’s no fun, let me tell ya.”

  “Tucker, you’ve never been sick in space.”

  “You’re right...and I intend on keeping it that way too, so let’s have ya checked out anyway...you know, ‘cause I don’t need my navigator sick on me.”

  “I’ll get sick on ya alright...”

  “Never you mind that now.”

  “Just drop it already...I’m starting to feel better, okay?”

  Just then the two heard a voice from the bottom ramp of Salvage-5, “Hey everyone! Anyone hungry? I brought hot pastrami sandwiches for all.”

  Cass paled to green again, and recoiled away from the smell, “Oh god...”

  “Hot pastrami?” Tucker smiled, “Great! I’m starved...” Tucker snatched a couple of sandwiches from the Captain, and held it out to Cassie, “Sandwich? Looks like extra mustard, relish, and mayo!”

  Cassie took off down the ramp and out into the open air holding her hand over her mouth.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Captain Rothschild asked.

  “Nice to see you too Sam...” Tucker leaned over and whispered, “She partied a little too hardy last night...so you might not want to upset her.”

  “Hangover...Ahhh, I see. Okay, no problem,” Samantha nodded with a smile.

  Tucker turned to face the lowered ramp and was met by a kid with the ‘deer in headlights’ look on his face, “May I help you?” turning to Sam, “Geez, where’s security anyway, how’d this kid get let in here?”

  “This ‘kid’ is Lieutenant Clark.”

  “You’re kidding me...” Tucker exclaimed, staring at the boyish figure at the bottom of the ramp. “Cause if you are, I’m not laughing over here.”

  Lieutenant Buster Clark was one hundred and twenty pounds of scrawny teenager. His face was pock-marked with red dots of acne. His dark long hair was combed over to one side and his thick black glasses were too wide for his head. His fatigues didn’t fit very well, and he was dwarfed by the duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Nope, I wouldn’t kid you about this...”

  Tucker turned to Sam, “No pun intended?”

  “No, but he is coming on our mission.”

  “Ah, no! Sorry...not gonna happen...uh ah, no way, no how!”

  The lieutenant dropped his duffle bag on the deck, saluted, and squeaked at Tucker, “Lieutenant Buster Clark, reporting for duty, sir...and might I say...”

  “No, you may not say...”

  “...that it’s an honor serving under such a prestigious commander.”

  Tucker pointed with his index finger at the sky, then stopped and raised an eyebrow at Buster.

  “Prestigious? Really?”

  “Yes, sir!” Buster enthusiastically answered. Then he picked up his duffle bag and slung it on his back, the weight putting him off balance. He stumble but recovered quickly.

  Tucker chuckled and then turned to Sam again, “Noooo... No!” Tucker exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief, “Oh, for crying out loud. This just is not a good thing, Captain. How does the General think our mission will be successful?”

  Buster made his way up the Salvage-5 ramp and stood before Sam and Tuck, “Where do I store my gear, Sir?”

  “You’re not storing any gear on my ship, just go back home to your mommy,” Tuck again turned to address Sam, “Geez, where does he find them?”

  Buster handed Tucker his orders, “Commander, I was handpicked by the Company. They feel that my expertise in the field of asteroid orbital dynamics and physics will be invaluable on this mission.”

  “My, my, aren’t we all big and tall, and talking with the grown-ups, now,” Tucker mocked, then turned back to Sam.

  “Buster, you can store your gear in cabin number four,” Sam smiled, staring Tucker down, “He’s coming, Colonel.”

  “It’s Colonel now? I thought we settled this last time, you can call me Tucker.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m not!”

  “Sir,” Buster interrupted, “My credentials are solid. I was the top of my class, I...”

  “This isn’t an interview, son.”

  “Tuck, he’s a good kid...smart too.”

  “Captain, when I need your input...”

  “Sir, if I may be allowed to explain,” Buster attempted to interject.

  “Let me deal with Tuck, Lieutenant...”

  “That’s Colonel to him, Tucker to you.”

  “Colonel...”

  “Shut up,”

  “My gear, sir...it’s getting...”

  “You’re not coming!”

  “...heavy...”

  “Lieutenant, I said to stow your gear...”

  “Why isn’t anyone listening to me?”

  “...Cabin number four...”

  Buster tried to step around Tucker to head forward, but Tucker grabbed his collar and pulled him back, “Nope, not allowed back there.”

  “Oh for crying out loud!” Cassie yelled, rolling her eyes, “I can hear you all from out there! What’s going on?”

  “Buster here...”

  “Lieutenant Clark, Sir...”

  “...Fine...the Lieutenant here thinks he’s coming along for the mission.”

  “He is,” Cass answered.

  “Ahhh, Cass...you drinkin’ the General’s juice too? Man!”

  “Tuck, he has to come along...he’s the only one that understands the calculations to adjust the asteroid’s orbit.”

  “I’m sure we can find more,” Tucker said, now facing Cassie.

  Buster broke his hold that Tucker had as he focused his attention to Cassie and headed forward with Sam to his cabin.

  Tucker turned and then faced Cassie again, “Geez, Cass...what’s he got that we can’t figure out?”

  “A doctorate in astrophysics...”

  “Him? A doctorate? You gotta be kidding me? He�
�s what...fifteen? Maybe?”

  “I’m sixteen!” Buster shouted down the causeway. “And these quarters are a tad small I’d say.”

  “Oh, great...that’s just wonderful...so how’d you get a doctorate in astrophysics at your age anyway? ...AND it won’t MATTER anyway what size your cabin is...because you’re NOT COMING!”

  “The Company said that he’s a child prodigy,” Cass answered.

  “A child prodigy is not coming on our mission! Come on Cass, that’s not going to be any fun...”

  “Is that what this is all about?” Cass asked, face flushing with anger.

  “What?”

  “You heard me...you can’t have your way with me if he’s here? That’s it...isn’t it!”

  “N-no,” Tucker nervously answered, then paused to think it over, then folded his arms, pastrami sandwich still in hand, “Nooo...”

  “No?” Cass looked up at Tucker, “That’s all you got?”

  “Yep.”

  “He’s standing in a defensive posture, indicating he’s lying to you, Captain,” Buster yelled down at Cass.

  “I knew it!”

  “What? How does he know that?” Tucker began answering. Then Cass grabbed his arm, placed her leg behind Tucker and put him down to the ground. Then she leaned down close to his face and spat, “I knew you were just like all the others!”

  Tucker looking up at Cass from the deck of Salvage-5, “That’s not what I meant, Cass.”

  Cassie twisted her grip on Tucker’s arm, causing him to wince, “Geez, Cass, take it easy already.”

  “What’s the matter, Colonel? And that’s Major to you.”

  “Ah, come on...Cass...Uh, Major.”

  “Don’t come on me, mister...Buster is part of our mission.”

  “No...he’s not,” Tucker answered as calmly as he could.

  “Tell me...”

  “You can let me up any time now...Major.”

  Their two’s lips nearly touching, “Why should I?”

  “Because, I’m asking nicely?”

  “I’ll hold you down for as long as it takes.”