The Girls From Alcyone (15 page)

She wasn't, but Sigrid nodded and wiped at her eyes again. "Sorry. Call me Sigrid." Sigrid said, emphasizing the
seeg
—everyone got her name wrong at first.

"Very well. Then you must call me Karen," the girl said in such a friendly fashion that Sigrid felt some of her tension ease; she even managed a small smile. "You're not technically in my chain of command," Karen continued, "so I suppose there's no need for us to use titles—although, I would advise you to address most of the officers by their rank until they say otherwise. I'm not sure if the Captain would appreciate you calling him
Steve
just yet." Karen winked.

Sigrid heard herself laugh. "No, I don't suppose he would."

Karen rose and retrieved the two bags she'd dropped: a small, square case and a long garment bag, which she hung on a hook behind Sigrid's door. "I suppose you're probably wondering about all this…"

Sigrid nodded again.

"Well, to start, I guess I'm here to help prepare you for arrival and for your…
presentation
to Kimura."

"Presentation?"

Karen smiled. "Mr. Kimura—the man you met, was concerned that your years at the Academy might have left you a little…rough around the edges—his words, not mine. He's asked me to…" Karen looked a little embarrassed,"…
smooth
things out, I suppose."

Karen stood and held out her hands to Sigrid, prompting her to stand. Sigrid did so, a little uncertainly. There was a full length mirror on the back of the closet door. Karen positioned Sigrid in front of it and stood behind her.

"Now, this
outfit
—" she said, examining Sigrid's coverall somewhat distastefully, "—might be fine for skulking around in the dark on some clandestine task. You might even wear it around the ship if you like, but for most functions I'd normally recommend something more formal. Unfortunately, we don't have a tailor or quartermaster on board. I brought a few things of my own. I hope that's all right?"

Ensign McTeer unzipped the garment bag and took out two outfits still on their hangers. The first was a formal ship's uniform; Karen held it in front of herself and studied Sigrid with a frown. "No—this won't do. I'm afraid it will be quite big on you." Karen was, indeed, several inches taller than Sigrid, but then, so was everyone, Sigrid reasoned. Karen put the uniform back in the bag and held out a dress this time; it was made of a deep, shimmering blue fabric, with patterns of color that shifted in the differing aspects of light. "I think something like this might be more appropriate for dining with the Captain tonight."

Sigrid regarded it a little skeptically. She'd never seen such an elaborate garment. All the clothes she'd worn at the Academy were more of the utilitarian sort, function over form.

Karen nudged her, offering the dress. "Here—I know you'll be a knockout in it."

Sigrid knew forty-eight ways to knock someone out, but none of them involved wearing a dress. She stripped off her jumpsuit and stepped almost cautiously into the dress; she wasn't even sure which was the front or back, but Karen helped her by guiding it on.

"I was worried it might be a bit long, but I think it's okay," Karen said.

Long?
The thing barely came halfway down her thigh! On Karen, it must have been daringly short. She began to pull her combat boots back on.

Karen stopped her. "I think
these
'
ll
work better," she suggested, pulling several different pairs of shoes from the bag. "I wasn't sure of your size so I had some of the girls lend me their favorites. Hopefully, we can find something that fits."

Karen dropped several pairs of slippers and high-heeled shoes in front of Sigrid, but her small feet swam in most of them. The only pair that fitted properly were platform soled boots that zipped up just past her ankle. The heels were preposterously high. They looked ridiculous and impractical, but when Sigrid stood up she found herself looking
down
at Karen.

After a few careful steps, she discovered she could move around in the boots more easily than she'd first imagined.

"I love them!"

Karen chuckled. "Lieutenant Meres will be happy to hear that." With a hand on each shoulder, Karen guided Sigrid to the chair at the table. "Now, for the rest," she declared as she opened a case on the table, revealing an assortment of makeup, lipsticks and brushes.

The makeup kit held a small mirror which Karen placed in front of her. When Sigrid looked in the mirror, she covered her mouth, horrified. Her face was puffy, with eyes bloodshot and red from crying. She looked terrible! Fortunately, Karen was a master-artist. A cool, soothing cream reduced the puffiness and a touch of rouge brought color back to her cheeks. When the ensign was done, a completely different Sigrid stared back from the looking-glass.

"Goodness…" Sigrid said, admiring Karen's masterful work. She wished Suko were there now; she couldn't help but wonder what she'd think if she saw her like this. Would she laugh?
Would she like it?
Lost in thought, she barely noticed as Karen brushed out her hair and completed her outfit with a series of sparkling bracelets.

Karen examined her
creation
. She seemed quite satisfied with her work and gave Sigrid a wink. "There. Totally sexy."

Sexy?
Sigrid thought.
Me?

Leta
was sexy. The girl was all long legs and breasts, and with that mane of flaming red hair, Leta oozed sex-appeal. Suko was exotic and beautiful, long and slender. But Sigrid, on the other hand…her own face had always seemed rather plain, her nose too big, her blond hair limp and dull. But when she looked at herself now—she had changed so much in the past year.

Was it the clothes? The shoes? Was she really sexy too?

"All done," Karen said. "Now, I think there's just enough time for a tour of the ship before dinner."

Sigrid didn't think she could eat, though the idea of getting out of her tiny quarters suited her just fine. The distraction from her misery would be welcome. But she didn't feel quite dressed yet. She rifled through her duffel to complete her outfit in the way she knew best. A pair of throwing knives slipped easily into each of her boots, with one down the front of her bra for good measure, and she
never
went anywhere without the twin Markov's strapped to her hips.

Karen groaned as Sigrid fastened the heavy holster around the dress. She reached out a hand to stop her. "That's…not quite the look I think we're going for." Karen reached into the case she'd brought and handed Sigrid a small pistol in a tiny holster with a single leg-strap. "They told me you girls never go unarmed, so I brought this."

Sigrid pulled the weapon out. It was nothing more than a small hideout pistol; the power-pack only held enough charge for a few shots, but it seemed lethal enough.

"Thanks," Sigrid said; she still wasn't sure where to put it.

"Pardon the reach," Karen said as she fastened the small holster to Sigrid's thigh, high enough to be concealed by the hem of her dress.

Sigrid let the ensign lead her through the narrow corridors. The craft she'd traveled on as a child had been one of the large commercial ships. The
Agatsuma
was a sleek Corvette—a predator in comparison. This was a military vessel. The crew compliment of forty-two belied the lethality of the small ship, which bristled from stem to stern with armaments.

The few crew members she passed wore the sharp, black and red naval uniforms of Kimura; all looked immaculately groomed and professional, very different from the rough-looking Marines she'd grown used to at the school. Sigrid took note of the mess-areas and the small gymnasium where a handful of crew were working out, but of special interest to her was the Tactical Operations Center. The Weapons Control room led out into a long corridor that spanned the length of the ship, giving access to Torpedo Control and a bank of weapons pods. All the pods were manned and ready; Sigrid sensed that all the crew were intent on something. There was a great deal of chatter.

"What's going on?" Sigrid asked.

"Don't worry," Karen said, "it's just a drill. Lately—with all the
nonsense
going on—Captain Maalouf has been drilling the crew around the clock. I suppose he feels it's best to be prepared."

Prepared for what?
Sigrid wondered. She wasn't sure what Karen meant by 'nonsense' either, but she made a note of inquiry. Right now she was far more interested in watching the crew in the nearest weapons pod. The pod controlled one of the four quad-mounted rail guns mounted on the exterior of the ship. Sigrid knew from her lessons that the combination of mass and inertia was far more effective against targets in space than laser weapons, or even torpedoes, which could be defeated easily with countermeasures. Hurling a handful of pebbles across space at .65
c
could rip apart a starship just as easily as a nuclear detonation. Of course, they didn't really use
pebbles
. The gunnery officers could select from a number of lethal projectiles. The preferred ordnance were the tiny
shredder-rounds.
Equipped with proximity fuses, the rounds would break into thousands of tiny fragments as they closed to within striking distance of their target. Any rounds not passing through the target would detonate, causing further carnage. The only drawback of the weapon was that it had to be manually aimed and fired.

Sigrid wondered what it would be like to fire something with that much power, but there was no opportunity to dally. It was nearly time for her appointment with the Captain. They were running a bit late so Karen hurried her along. As they ran through the corridors, heading quickly for the Captain's Mess, Sigrid noticed several of the crew giving her appraising looks as she hurried past in her short, flowing, blue dress.

Sigrid and Karen burst through the double doors, startling the two officers already in attendance. The mess room itself was just big enough to accommodate the small dining table. First Officer, Commander Tapert and Chief Engineer Romi, were there waiting for the Captain and their new
VIP
guest. Sigrid felt a moment of panic when she realized that Ensign McTeer wasn't staying for dinner; she held onto her hand.

"Don't worry—you'll be fine," Karen reassured her.

Sigrid looked to her, worriedly.

"We'll take good care of her, Ensign," Commander Tapert said, smiling at Sigrid. Chief Romi greeted her in turn, taking time to shake her hand.

As friendly as they appeared, Sigrid still felt them eyeing her, as if she were a curiosity. She remained aloof, feeling very self-conscious.

"I'll check in on you later." Karen gave her a kiss on the cheek, patted her on the shoulder and departed as the doors opened to admit the captain and Shinji Kimura.

Captain Maalouf smiled warmly and greeted Sigrid, extending his hand. The captain was a short man of dark complexion, with what Sigrid found to be a charming and pleasant demeanor.

He invited Sigrid to take the seat next to him, with Kimura on the right. "Ms. Novak—it's an honor and a pleasure to finally meet you. You've become quite the curiosity on board."

"Me, sir?"

"Oh, yes. We've all heard about your lineage and training—well, at least what isn't classified, which isn't very much." The captain looked from Sigrid to Shinji Kimura. "From the little I've heard, you must be commended, Mr. Kimura. The program sounds most impressive."

"I'm afraid I can't take any credit for that, Captain. The Academy is strictly my mother's domain."

The captain turned back to her. "Do you mind if I inquire as to your specialization?"

Sigrid raised her eyebrows.
Murder? Espionage?
She wasn't quite sure what she was permitted to say.

Shinji Kimura answered for her. "Ms. Novak is trained as a highly versatile operative, Captain. In fact, I'd be surprised if she couldn't assume any post on your ship."

"Is that so?" the Captain remarked, studying Sigrid with even more interest; Sigrid felt herself shrink lower in her chair. "Then we're lucky to have you aboard, Ms. Novak."

The Mess Attendant came in, filling water glasses, offering wine and other spirits. Sigrid was relieved to see their attention shift away from her.

"Red or white, miss?" the attendant asked her.

Sigrid had no idea, having never tasted wine, so she simply nodded. "Yes, please."

Watching her closely, the Captain chuckled as he signaled the steward to bring forth their meals.

The selection of entrees turned out to be impressive; a far cry from the simple fare Sigrid was used to at the Academy. There were roasted meats, whole fish, trays of exotic vegetables and fruits. Sigrid stared at the plate that was presented to her—she was far too distraught to eat, her stomach still twisted in a tight knot.

Captain Maalouf noticed her pushing the roasted zucchini across her plate. "Is it not to your liking, Ms. Novak? Can we bring you something else?"

Sigrid flushed as she noticed the other men looking at her. "No—no. It smells wonderful. It's just…"
She couldn't tell them…couldn't tell the captain.
"I think I'm having trouble adjusting—to the gravity." It was a lie; one the captain easily recognized, but he nodded.

"Your first mission," he grunted. "I understand. It's been a while, but I do remember what it was like—fresh out of the Academy. Don't worry. You'll make the adjustment."

Sigrid nodded politely and returned to her food. A nibble at a carrot was about all she could manage, but she put on a brave face. It was easy to sit in silence, listening as the officers discussed the itinerary of the journey. It would take 6.7 days at maximum acceleration to reach the Warp Relay that lay just outside the boundary of the solar system. Sigrid noted the grumbling of the officers as they discussed the surcharges and fees charged by Daedalus Corporation—the company that controlled the network of Warp Relays that allowed travel between the different systems in the Federation.

The captain told them there was no other traffic scheduled in or out of the system, yet he remained cautious. They would be at their most vulnerable during this portion of the voyage. As they closed on the Relay, they also ranged further from Alcyone and any help that they might get from ships stationed there. Skirmishes with
Independents
were becoming alarmingly frequent, and Daedalus was not famous for warning of incoming traffic changes or of ships traveling through their system of relays.