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Chapter 30

The Privateer Ship Andromeda

Deep Space

Danzig-5012 System


It was somber on the cargo deck of the Andromeda as the crew stood in a tight formation, hands folded behind their backs, flight suits pressed and cleaned. The ship accelerated toward the transit point at a steady one G. The Andromeda didn’t have a chaplain, and her crew held widely varied belief systems, but burial in space was a tradition dating back over a thousand years. All present paid their respects in their own way.

Annie stood quietly in the ranks as Captain Blackwood presided over the ceremony. Her father and his mercenary team were standing in the back, missing Randy Markgraf. The captain’s brother and his two friends were there as well. Cecil Blackwood, in particular, looked a mess. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in quite some time.

Captain Blackwood’s voice was solemn and clear as she read an invocation. In her hands was a gold-inlaid, bound-leather Spacer’s Bible, one that was well over a century old. “In the ancient tradition of our forebearers, we will now commit the bodies of the fallen to the stars. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, all things must pass, for even the stars themselves are not eternal. We all share the same origin. We all come from the stars, and to the stars we all must return, one way or another. It is the way of things, and it is the way it has ever been. Only God is eternal, only God is universal, and we now ask that He shepherd the souls of the fallen to their well-earned, eternal rest.”

The captain closed the Bible, and looked up at her crew. “I have asked much of you on this tour. You have not once disappointed me, not once let me or your shipmates down. A captain could not ask for a finer crew, and serving with you has been my honor. We are fewer in number today, but we accomplished our mission, we rescued the hostages, and we defeated an enemy cruiser well above our throw weight. You all performed phenomenally. You all have much to be proud of. Most of all, let us be proud of our fallen shipmates. They sacrificed everything so that the rest of us might live. They died fighting for their comrades. Please take a moment to reflect, pray, and remember the dead. Thank them for their sacrifice, and bid them farewell. We depart without them now, for they must walk a different road. Mourn the dead, but do not despair; theirs is the road we all must walk, in time. Let us be comforted in the belief that we will see them again, before the end of all things.”

The cargo deck was as silent as a ship under acceleration could be as the crew took a moment to reflect and, in most cases, pray. Some bowed their heads, others whispered prayers, some quietly wept, but all remained in formation together. Many of them were injured. Some could barely stand, but they stood anyway. Even Mordecai Chang, who hated to leave his personal compartment for any reason, made a rare public appearance, though he wore a surgical mask to protect him from germs. The only one not present was Luis Azevedo, who was manning the command deck alone.

This hadn’t been at all like Annie had imagined it would be. She had read of the dangers of space travel, of course, but they had always seemed so distant to her. Three people had died on this voyage, and more were injured. The captain’s face revealed little, but Annie thought she looked as if she’d been crying. She had been close to the executive officer.

Annie thought back to the things that had bothered her before, the things she had considered to be problems, and felt small and petty because of it. You didn’t get to see your friends enough, she thought bitterly. Life was boring. You wanted to meet a cute boy. You wanted to ride in the rodeo. Those things had defined her life before leaving New Austin, but now? None of it seemed to matter. Annie’s heart still ached over poor Sparkles, but she wasn’t even angry with Victoria Alexander anymore. She was just a stupid rich girl, a child, too fried on drugs to even know what she was doing. Annie actually felt bad for her. How screwed up was her home life that that was how she acted?

Looking around at her shipmates, Annie knew that she was where she belonged. Maybe one ship in a great big universe didn’t make much difference, but it could make a difference. The Andromeda had changed the course of history for an entire world! Maybe that wasn’t normal, maybe that was an exceptional experience, but Annie had had a part in it, and she was proud. The troubles of her old life seemed so small in comparison.

After a long moment, the captain looked up. “Crew, atten-HUT!” Annie snapped to attention with the rest of the crew. “I will now read the names of the fallen before committing their bodies to the stars.” The bodies of the dead were carefully wrapped in Mylar blankets and secured. One by one, they would be lowered into the ship’s casualty chute, which would drop them out the bottom of the ship. In an instant, they’d be vaporized in the ship’s exhaust plume. Mazer Broadbent stood at attention, sending the bodies off, as Cargomaster Kimball played “Amazing Grace” on a set of old Avalonian bagpipes. “Randall Markgraf, of New Austin. Wolfram von Spandau, First Officer, of Heinlein.” A single tear trickled down the captain’s cheek as her friend, adviser, and second-in-command was laid to rest, but she maintained her reserve. “Charity Delacroix, Assistant Engineer, of Heinlein.” Indira Nair openly wept as her assistant’s body was sent down the chute. One of her shipmates placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

Annie had never seen her so emotional before. From what she’d heard, the engineer was going to do a damage assessment with First Officer von Spandau, but Charity Delacroix had insisted that she go instead. The chief engineer was more important, she’d supposedly said. She was killed by the same laser strike that had taken the first officer. Annie couldn’t imagine the pain, what it was like to have someone die for you.

When the bagpipes fell silent, and the casualty chute secured, the captain told the crew to stand at ease. “It has been a long journey, and I’m afraid it’s not over yet. We’ve taken damage and circumstances necessitate that we take the long way home. Our trip back to New Austin will be substantially longer than the one from there, and we will need to stop at the Llewellyn Freehold for repairs. Until then, we’re limited in how much acceleration we can maintain, and it will be slow going. When we get back to New Austin, we’ll stay planetside for a local week, and everyone will get some well-deserved R&R. I wish I could give you more time, but the mission isn’t over until we return to the Arthurian System. After that, we will head home, to Heinlein, and the ship will remain grounded for some time while she’s refitted and overhauled. Spend time with your families. Live your lives. Make the most of the time you have. If any of you wishes to remain grounded after we return, you can come see me privately and we’ll discuss the matter. There’s no shame in staying home for a while, not after we’ve been out so long and endured so much. Until then, I ask that you all stay focused on your jobs, and don’t let complacency get the better of you. Complacency kills, and we’ve had enough death on this tour.”

The captain thanked her crew one last time, called them to attention, then dismissed them back to their duty stations. Annie turned and saw her father comforting Devree Starlighter. She wanted to talk to him, tell him she wanted to stay on the Andromeda, but now was not the time. She quietly left the cargo deck. She had a lot to think about.




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