John wondered what could be the problem. The After Action Report he had submitted to Federation Command last week, had made it pretty clear what had happened aboard the Corvette. He was unsure what kind of trouble the young Latina could be in, as there was certainly nothing in the AAR that implicated her being responsible in any way.
"What kind of trouble?" he asked Alyssa.
"Calara said she was being accused of 'dereliction of duty'. She mentioned something about a possible court martial!" The young woman replied, looking concerned.
John snorted in disbelief. A court martial? That was absurd.
"Is she still on the Vid-feed?" He asked Alyssa.
"Yes. She doesn't know what to do, so I said I'd ask you for your advice" the young girl replied.
John stood and strode out of the room, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist on the way out. He could see Calara's face on the Vid screen. The black eyes had mostly healed up, but the bridge of her nose was still swollen from where it had been broken, marring her otherwise pretty face. The heavy bags under her eyes told a tale of troubled sleep.
"Don't worry Calara, we'll get this straightened out" He said reassuringly.
Calara looked back at him with frightened eyes "I can't be Court Martialed John! It would destroy my family!" She sobbed.
"It won't come to that. We'll be at Heracles as fast as we can. Call us if there's any more developments" he stated firmly. Calara nodded dejectedly and closed the call.
He turned to look at Alyssa who had watched the brief conversation over his shoulder. "Ok let's get moving, it looks like we haven't finished rescuing her yet!" he smiled.
Alyssa moved in to hug him fiercely "Thank you John, you're a good man" she said sincerely.
John hugged her back before they broke apart to gather up all their belongings. In a matter of hours they had checked out of the hotel, taken a hover-taxi to the planet's star port and boarded the Fool's Gold. They set a course for Olympus and 2 hours later were approaching the bustling shipyard, Terran Federation craft drifting by civilian traffic as they went about their business. The intercom began an insistent buzzing, the flashing light on the console indicating an incoming communication. John pushed a button to answer the call.
"Incoming freighter, please identify yourself and your business at Olympus" a military communications officer requested politely.
"He sounds exactly like the last one!" Alyssa whispered, causing John to chuckle.
"Commander John Blake, requesting clearance to land at the docking bay housing the Invictus" he answered the communications officer formally.
"One moment please Commander" The disembodied voice replied.
After a short pause, the voice came back. "Please proceed to Docking bay 13" it stated, before the communication officer closed the channel.
"Unlucky for some" Alyssa said ominously.
John laughed "You don't believe in those old superstitions do you?" he asked the young girl.
"You can never be too careful!" She replied archly.
Docking bay 13 was part of the dry-dock and was used for retrofitting spacecraft to new designs. This meant they had to circle the huge shipyard to be able to dock from the other side. Their freighter made steady progress and soon they began their final approach to the station. This side of the shipyard saw much less traffic and the damaged spacecraft awaiting repairs looked lonely and forlorn somehow.
"What did that?" Alyssa asked in awe, pointing to the devastated foredeck of a Terran Federation Destroyer as they slowly passed it by. They could see numerous battle scars measuring dozens of metres in length as the hull loomed overhead.
"That's Plasma damage" John explained sadly looking at the charred wreckage."That ship has been fighting the Kintark. They are the only race that use Plasma Cannons".
They left the damaged ship behind and moved on to begin landing manoeuvres at docking bay 13. Alyssa's breath caught when she saw their new vessel and she glanced at John and saw he was similarly spellbound.
The Cruiser was docked in the centre of the gigantic bay. Massive maintenance gantries were slowly backing away from the flanks of the vessel, as though wary of the lethal looking warship. The sleek lines and bristling gun ports clearly identified the ship as a ferocious predator, one that was not to be trifled with. The craft was painted a dark military grey, with soft blue lighting illuminating the name "Invictus" in 20 foot high lettering along the hull.
The Fool's Gold touched down and the tremors shaking through the ship awakened the pair from their reverie. John flashed a wide grin at Alyssa as he stood quickly and offered her his hand to follow. They walked briskly down to the cargo bay of the freighter and John's foot tapped impatiently as he waited for the airlock door to spiral open.
They walked outside before stopping to stand in awe, looking up at the magnificent vessel as it towered above them. At just over 500 metres in length it dwarfed the couple and their comparatively tiny freighter.