Copyright
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2015 - 2021 - This is an original work by Zeb Carter and protected under copyright by U.S. copyright law. It is only submitted at Literotica.Com and the Author has not authorized any submission to any other site.
Author's Note:
So sorry it took so long to get this out. RL sure can get in the way sometimes. This is the last part of the Warrior series. I have no further plans for this unless something pops into my head.
Warrior One - Fleet Action VIII
Scout Ships II
Chapter 168
Lieutenant Jordan Dax, a scout ship pilot, sat intently watching the sensor data displaying on her screens. She was disturbed when the communicator buzzed and started to print out an Action Message. Jordan shook her head. She had only been out this far for a little over a day. It had taken her three low fuel consumption jumps to get out this far and what did she find, an M-class planet around a G-type star. Well, she had the coordinates and she could come back at a later date.
Tearing the sheet off the printer, Jordan read the message to herself. It seemed her and her ship were being recalled for some maintenance, even though it, her ship, was practically brand new. Hunter, her ship, just commissioned a scant three months ago, and now they were recalling her. Whatever could be wrong with her?
"Hunter?"
"Here, Ma'am."
"I need the fastest route home."
"Minimal jumps?"
"Not necessary."
"Computed and laid in. Four jumps, half sub-light, and tanks half full when we arrive."
"Good. Execute."
The front port shutter closed and Jordan's stomach got queasy for just a split second. Then the acceleration pressed her into the chair for a split second as the inertial dampeners caught up. She sat in her chair mussing about the recall. Jordan had graduated from the Fleet Scout Ship Training facility just three months ago. She was assigned to Hunter and her orders were to explore but make no contact with human or alien life forms. Her sector mapped out for her and was loaded into the ship's A.I.
Eighty days ago as Hunter floated in orbit above Mars, Jordan looked over her schedule of jumps as mapped out by an A.I. on Mars. The furthest out from the solar system she would go was two hundred fifty light-years. There were only three stars within the correct magnitude range in her sector. Searching online, she found that none of the ships would be farther away from the home system than nine hundred light-years.
She knew a jump of three thousand light-years, not under power, took forty-five days. By not using any of her sub-light go juice, she could get out to about six thousand light-years. Way short of the border with the Gar but out far enough that she might see something interesting. Jordan knew there were plenty of G-Type stars out that far. And she found one right off the bat.
It was too bad the Action Message had come when it did. Now she was bored. On the way out, excitement by what she might find out there kept her from being bored. To have it snatched right out from under her by an Action Message recall, she was not only bored, but she was also angry. Of course, it was ridiculous to be angry when she didn't know with who to be angry. Her anger faded quickly. Her boredom didn't.
Twenty-nine days later, she was orbiting Mars, waiting for her clearance to land. She was still bored, but at least she had some leave to look forward to taking. There weren't many places for fun on Mars yet, but there were a couple of bars set up to cater to the shipyard crews. Jordan was planning on visiting one or two of them while she was here. Or maybe she would have time to take the tube over to Nilus Chaos for a little shopping trip.
"Hunter five-oh-two, you are clear to land. Follow the beacon down, sequence one-one-one-six, frequency one-one-five point six-two."
"Roger ground, sequence 1116, frequency 115.62, Hunter502."
Jordan took the controls. Hunter could land herself perfectly, but Jordan needed the practice. She found the beacon in her scope and turned to follow it down. As she got closer to the ground, she saw the beacon was in a huge depression on the Martian surface. There had to be two hundred landing pads in the bottom. Jordan finally caught sight of her pad. It was at the far corner, three rows in from the east wall and five rows in from the north wall. She landed as softly as she could. Well, at least Hunter didn't complain. She unstrapped and grabbed her go-bag, hitting the hatch open leaver. Almost bounding down the stairs, she ran into a Chief Master Mechanic.
"Lieutenant, if you would put your ship in maintenance mode and lower the hyperdrive, please?" he asked politely.
"Sure Chief. Hunter, maintenance mode. Lower your hyperdrive please."
The ship's hatch remained open and the drive bay was lowering to the ground.
"What are you going to do to her Chief?" Jordan asked.
"We are replacing her hyperdrive with a new one."
"What's wrong with the one she has?"
"It's obsolete. The new drives go farther and get you there faster," the Chief told her.
"Really?"
"Really. Here's your billet Lieutenant," the Chief handed her a slip of paper.
"Thanks. When will she be ready?"
"Morning after next, but you'll be busy for a while longer."
"What?"
"You'll have a message waiting for you in your room, Lieutenant."
"Uh, okay Chief, thanks," replied Jordan, scratching her head as she walked away.
Chapter 169
Jordan found her billet, the door opened to her thumbprint. Pushing the door open, she tossed her go-bag on the single bed. Looking over her quarters, she found a laptop sitting on the desk. The screen was blinking with the message waiting, sign. Jordan pressed the enter key and the printer to the right of the desk began printing... and printing... and printing. Fourteen pages of messages. Looking them over, she saw her enrollment in a number of classes. Scratching her head, she read on.
It looked as though she wouldn't have time for that shopping trip to Nilus Chaos. She would have two classes a day for the first week, then four classes a day for the next two. Then in ship classes within the solar system. Then it looked like she would be going on a mission as yet to be determined. She tossed the papers on the desk, shrugged out of her jacket and utility belt. She spotted the safe in the corner, pulled her sidearm from its holster, and pressed her thumb to the sensor.
The door sighed open. She gently placed her sidearm inside and pushed the door shut. She felt as well as heard the click of the lock. True, the lock wasn't all that sturdy, but it was just a deterrent. The weapon wouldn't fire for anyone but Jordan and any of her fellow combatants whose DNA was stored in the weapon's memory. Jordan stripped out of her singlet and jumped in the shower. It had been a long time since she had been able to take a long hot shower.
Drying herself with the big fluffy towel she found in the refresher, Jordan opened her go bag and pulled out a singlet. She fluffed her hair up, it was cut short, as were most scout pilot's hair. She looked around for the laundry chute, found it in the corner by the refresher, and threw her dirty singlet in, to be cleaned and returned to her. Stepping out her door, she looked at the wall opposite her door. She found which way to go for the officer's mess and headed that way. She was starving.
At the entrance to the messhall, she found that most of the lights were turned off. The lighting was so dim, she missed the elderly lady sitting by the doorway.
"Hurry up, they are about to close the line down for the switch over to dinner," she said to Jordan.
"Thank you," Jordan replied, hurrying to the line.
She grabbed a tray and started down the cases lined up before her.
"We don't have much left. A couple of burgers and some fries along with a slice or two of cake, chocolate I think," said the woman behind the counter.
"That will be just fine," Jordan replied.
The lady placed a plate with the burgers and fries on Jordan's tray, following it with a large slice of chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting.