Black Dawn (9 page)

Lamont, Butler and Rebel sat at a small cafe down on a transit
station sipping too-strong coffee, and comparing notes on staff and
crew. Pierce and Erhardt were back on limited duty, and Vennefron
was completing his post-trauma counseling and would rejoin the fleet
in a couple of weeks. And so far for the
Nighthawk
, they had signed
on an Engineer and three techs, a Navigator, a Communications officer, and a headstrong but apparently capable young Corporal to run
the troops. The troops that he was intended to run as of now consisted
of four people. And they still needed to fill such minor slots as Medical officer, and Ship's Captain.

“
If you want my opinion”, Butler leaned as far back in his seat
as he could go without toppling, “you're being too picky. You took
awful chances with the
Raven's
crew because you swore you saw potential, or raw talent, or however you put it. They proved you right.
In fact, they
turned out
so
good, I think you're spoiled. But you're not necessarily
going to find people that good to start with again.”

“
Spoiled
and
picky, eh?” Coy raised an eyebrow.
Butler grinned.
Rebel looked back and forth between them. Being so recently

Lamont noticed his not-quite-bewildered expression, and gave
him a small nod of encouragement. “What do you think, Adrian?
Am I being too cautious in my hiring?”

“
On or off the record?” Rebel wanted it perfectly clear that he
was not going to pay a price for his honesty.
Coy glanced at Butler and then back.
“I asked the question.
I’ll take an honest answer.”
“Well, I don't know exactly who it was that you took the
chance on before--if it was me, I'm sincerely grateful, but I'm not really
inclined to trust in people's potential when we're talking about life and
death situations. I'd much rather see some proof of qualifications. So
if it were me...” he glanced at Butler, “I'd probably err on the side of
caution.”
“So where do we find these qualified people?” Butler countered. “Not on this station. And if we move on to look elsewhere, we
do so with a half-staffed battleship. Where's the safety in that? No, I
say trainees are better than no crew.”
Coy Lamont nodded at him.
“I'm rather glad you feel that
way, because if it comes to that, you may be commanding her, and her
trainees, after all.”
Butler opened his mouth, but evidently thought better of his
retort, and closed it. Rebel smiled, knowing that the Commodore was
the only one in the fleet who could out-maneuver Captain Butler. He
turned to brave a comment of that nature, but Lamont was suddenly
staring across the promenade. Butler noticed too, and they both looked
at the two women who had captured Coy's attention.
It seemed obvious that the women had been waiting to be noticed. One of them, a woman with a coffee-and-cream complexion and
long dark hair, looked straight at Coy, as if asking for an invitation.
Coy stayed glued to its seat, but gave a tiny careful nod.
She and her companion, a strong-looking woman of very dark
complexion and short military hairstyle, came to their table. The first
one smiled tentatively, and put out a hand.
“Captain Lamont?” She seemed to notice it's uniform for the
first time, and the smile turned down a little. Coy did not correct the
rank. It did not budge an inch. And for a second, it didn't even appear
to acknowledge the hand. It took her hand and shook it hesitantly.
“Doctor Durand,” it said rather gravely.
The doctor looked relieved. “I didn't suppose you'd forget us
but...and it’s Rose, by the way.”
Coy nodded and released the hand.
She turned to her companion. “Mara, this is Captain Coy Lamont. This is Captain Mara Hendricks.”
Hendricks put out her hand as well. “It's a privilege, Captain
Lamont. Rose has told me how you saved her and the other miners.”
Coy's face froze in a polite smile, and it had to consciously let
go of her hand to keep from squeezing it in the wave of tension that
swept through along with the unwanted memories. The conversation
seemed to freeze along with Coy’s smile.
Butler was one who believed ice was for breaking. “Captain
of what, may I ask?”
Hendricks and Rose glanced at each other a little sadly. “That
should be former Captain, I'm afraid, ... ah?”
“Ken Butler,” he supplied, leaving off his rank intentionally,
Coy was sure. He probably thought there was a surplus of Captains in
the conversation.
She eyed his uniform for clues, but found none on the insignialess black fatigues.
“I
was
in command of a ship in our Reserve forces. But when
the new regime took office recently, the defense budget was slashed.
And since I had, ah, annoyed a few people who were suddenly in high
places...”
“When the chopping block came around, your neck was too
near the front of the line,” Butler finished for her.
She nodded and turned back to Coy.
“When Rose told me who you were, I thought that perhaps you
could help us get passage away from here.”
“To where?”
“Anywhere closer to Servati.”
“I see.” Coy thought for a moment. “Dr. Durand is going
back where I dropped her the first time, I assume. And your interest?”
Hendricks shrugged. It's a good hub. A lot of employment
possibilities.”
“Such as passenger or cruise lines?”
Coy watched her attempt to swallow her pride and say yes, but
she couldn't quite manage it. Coy relaxed for the first time and motioned for them to sit.
“I'm afraid that Dr. Durand is slightly out of date with her information about me. When we met I was in a completely different
situation. I don’t give free rides anymore.”
The two women looked at each other.
“And what do you do now?” the former captain asked.
“It’s Commodore Lamont now and I have a fleet of my own to
run.”
“Your own mercenaries?”
“The BlackFleet.”
Hendricks was silent for a moment. “The BlackFleet.” She
was clearly impressed. “You know, I met a guy not too long ago who
was trying everything to find you. Had his own ship and everything.
Wanted to sign on or something like that. Said no merc in the region
could get a job but you guys. You have quite a reputation.”
Coy’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Do we? And what is
that?”
“You guys are supposed to be the heroes of the universe or
something. Saving everyone and never asking to be paid. Actually,”
she said with a knowing smile, “I never believed that part.”
Durand frowned curiously. “What are you doing on a place
like this?”
“I was wondering the same thing about you.”
She sighed. Mara's government-the former government-had
wanted to import off-world medicine. I volunteered to be part of the
team. After all that time in virtual slavery it seemed my big chance at
independence.”
“Let me guess,” Butler said, “More budget chopping.”
She nodded, then looked again at Coy.
“And you’re here because…?”
“We have a new ship....”
Mara sat bolt upright in her chair. “You're hiring crew?”
“We hire a very specific number of people for very specific
jobs.” It let those words hang for a moment. If Hendricks did indeed
know anything about the BlackFleet, she would know they did not advertise. It looked at her barely contained enthusiasm. “Would you be
willing to lose your rank and begin as a trainee?”
She paused only a second. “If there are suitable advancement
possibilities.”
Both of Lamont’s brows rose at her bravado. Butler laughed
outright. “All placement and promotions are made due to abilities
demonstrated to senior officers,” it recited, “Ultimately to me, of
course. Advancement is always possible for those with talent and
drive.”
Rebel finally joined the conversation at that.
“Lieutenant Rebel, Ma'am. Trust me, it happens.”
“The Lieutenant commands one of our ships. As of very recently, as a matter of fact,” Coy explained.
“Well, lower rank beats no rank at all, which is what I have if I
stay here,” Hendricks agreed.
Coy put out its hand again.
“Then welcome aboard, Trainee
Hendricks.”
She happily shook all three officers' hands.
Rose cleared her throat. “I'd be no good as a mercenary soldier. Can I still get a ride?”
“That depends on how badly you wish to get back---and how
soon,” Lamont said.
“Why is that, Ca--Commodore?”
“Because ships need medical staff.” Coy cocked its head.”It
would be a rather big chance at independence.”
“You want to
hire
me?” she stammered.
“It is a battleship, not a hospital or a passenger ship. I won't
belittle the danger. But I need staff, you need a ride, and I’ve seen you
at work. I know your qualifications.” Coy cast a sideways glance at
Rebel, at that.
“What if it didn’t work out?”
Butler started to make impatient sounds, but Coy frowned him
down, knowing very well where her hesitation came from.
“You would not be bound by an unbreakable contract. We
work on word of honor. Anyone who is a member of the BlackFleet is
so because they have a desire to do something with their life. Something they were not allowed to do elsewhere. To make a difference.”
Resolution settled on her features. “Count me in, Commodore
Lamont.”
They all stood to escort their new crewmembers to the
Nighthawk
. Coy fell in beside Butler. “Spoiled and picky,” it murmured.
Butler rolled his eyes and shrugged surrender.
* * * * *

As Exec, Butler gave the two women the official tour of not
only the
Nighthawk,
but the
Blackbird
, and
Raven
, as well.
“I'm confused by one thing,” Hendricks admitted as they shuttled from the '
Bird
back to the
Raven.
“What's that?”
She frowned. “I'd heard so much about the BlackFleet… stories here and there about people being rescued, and worlds saved....”
She trailed off, trying to put her thoughts into words.
“Yes?” Butler prompted.
She waved her arm at the empty seats. “Where is everyone?”
Ken had learned he could argue till he was blue with Lamont
about crew numbers – in private. But he would never appear to disagree with it in public again. So he grinned and nodded at her question.
“You two will make thirty-two. And that's it so far. The
Raven
and
Blackbird
put together have a crew of twenty.”
Hendricks stared. “Then all those stories...”
“Are absolutely true. The Commodore is very particular about
who it hires.” Ken smiled to himself at the memory of Schiff giving
him the same lecture. “Quality, not quantity. If you don't pass, you're
not in.”
“Pass what?” Rose asked.
“The Commodore's standards. And don't ask what they are.
Only Coy Lamont knows.”
“When do we know if we've passed?” Hendricks asked.
Ken raised an eyebrow. “You already have, or the Skipper
would've left you at that table on the station.”
“I don't understand. All I said was that I screwed up and got
myself axed.”
The brow came down. “Is that what happened? You performed your duties incorrectly and left the authorities no alternative?”
“The 'duties' they asked me to perform were incorrect, and I
told them so. That was my mistake.”
“You regret telling them so?”
“Y--no. Not really. They were wrong. But what difference
does it make? Slovenly duty or insubordination?
I still got axed.”
Ken's smile returned. “It makes all the difference, Trainee
Hendricks. All the difference in the universe.”
A few hours later, Butler stood before Lamont's quarters, pushing the door chime.
“Enter,” came the reply that opened the hatch.
Ken stepped into the room and found Coy working at its large
desk. Behind it, out the viewport, Petrov Station floated silently.
The
Raven
was detached from the Station, as was the
Blackbird,
but remained in holding orbit until the '
Hawk
was ready to cut
loose. Even Bon could find very little to modify on the new ship, but it
stayed docked until the new crew was settled.
“Yes?” Coy looked up from the files it was reading.
Ken handed over the tiny data disk he was holding.
“As you
said, Durand knows more about medicine than anyone I've met. In fact
she's already asking about remodeling the Sick Bay to make it possible
to add a re-animation section for stasis patients.”
Lamont looked shocked. “Is that possible?”
“I asked Ceal. She said that, between the technologies on the
two ships, it's theoretically possible. But you'd have to have someone
experienced to do it.”
Coy leaned back in its chair. “The mining station had a working stasis section. I don't know Rose's personal expertise, though. But
we ought to look into it. Our own re-animation unit...”
“Would you like me to call her up and let her explain…?”
“No,” Lamont said, a little too quickly. The sight of Durand
down on the station had brought up far too many memories. The
thought of bumping into her everyday was almost more than it could
handle. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to hire her.
Butler waited politely for Lamont to finish, but it seemed to
have no explanation. A few moments later, Coy focused again on current issues.
“And Hendricks?”
Ken pursed his lips. “She's good. She passed the simulator
with a near perfect score. But there's something.... she'd make a wonderful First Officer.”
“For whom? You? Should I resume command of the
Raven
and send you over to the
'Hawk
?”
Ken gave a hint of a sigh.
“To be honest, that's not my first
choice, anymore. But it's your decision Skipper.”
Coy nodded, acknowledging all the meanings of the statement.
“She's been burnt by the authority she trusted. We've all been there. I
think we've run into her before she's been able to deal with that completely.”
It was Butler's turn to nod. He well remembered his state of
mind when he had met the BlackFleet. And Coy's own pain. And everyone else's. Yes, they'd all been there.
“I don't mean to judge her harshly. But I'll stick with my recommendation against handing her the reins too soon.”
Unexpectedly, Lamont smiled. “When's the last time I told
you I appreciate you?”
Ken blinked, then returned a grimace. “You want me to send
my things over to the
Nighthawk
?”
“No, I want you to send
my
things over. We'll see how she
does with her C.O. breathing down her neck. Besides, I need to keep
a closer eye on our new Bridge team. I almost wish I'd held out for a
different communications officer.”
“Carson got you worried? Besides being spoiled, she knows
her stuff.”
“Spoiled. She's used to Admiral Daddy bailing her out when
things got uncomfortable. No matter how much she detested him doing it, she's still used to it.”
A bit of a wicked gleam came into Ken's eye. “A little academy hazing would sort that out.”
Coy shook its head. “No need. If I take the
'Hawk
out on a
few maneuvers with a crew of eight, she'll get all the hazing she can
handle. Or have you forgotten the good ol' days?”
“According to Bon, I missed the
really
good times.”
“Well, unfortunately, you may get to see them. If I go ahead
and launch the
Blackbird
to fly independently, that leaves the
Raven
with a crew of thirteen. Twelve if I'm on the
'Hawk
.”
“Yes, I'd---ah, thought of that. So we need to be looking for
more people besides the
Nighthawk
crew.”
“When have you known me to
look
for crew, Ken?
We fly
with what we have in four days. If they don't come in that time, they
will at the next stop. Either way, they'll come to us.”
It seemed a ludicrous way to run a military organization. Except that Ken Butler knew that it was true. He'd seen it. He'd been
there. And there was no one he trusted more than the officer on the
other side of the desk. He stood and snapped a salute, without a hint of
skepticism or sarcasm. “Yes, sir. I'll arrange for your belongings to be
sent over.”
Lamont returned the salute. “Thank you, Captain.” For everything.