Child of Heaven

Captain Jack Barron leaned against his control panel and squinted at the control panel. “Run that by me again, will you? You was breaking up in a real annoying way.”

He brushed his shaggy dirty blond hair out of his eyes and scratched his jaw. His ship, the Hydra, listed slightly to port as he waited in line. Space Dock 9 wasn’t the most out of the way freight station. It was a smaller one, perfect for lighter ships like his caravel, and had enough resources for him to consider it. The Hydra was a bit big for Dock 9′s bays, but they could make it work. Jack just had to make sure he understood what the idiot on the other end of the comms was saying.

“I said you needed to wait in line,” the other voice said. Whoever they were, they sounded annoyed. “We don’t make special arrangements for anyone out here. If you wanted to get in an’ out, shoulda been here first thing in the morning!”

“Assholes,” Jack muttered. He didn’t bother muting.

“What did you call me?”

“Oh,” Jack said, ”now you can hear me. I called you an asshole, because you are one.”

“Jack.” His first mate, adopted sister, and best friend in all things poked her head into the cockpit. “Insulting him isn’t going to get us docked anytime faster.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Sam, I’m not going to watch my tone with a Kai idiot!”

Going by the outraged sputtering on the other end of the line, Jack had just hit the nail on the head.

“That’s it,” Sam said as she walked into the little room. “Out.”

“But - !”

“Out.” Sam jerked her thumb toward the door. Her dark brown eyes offered no argument and she swept a little of her black hair back under its scarf. “It’s time for me to use a little Meehran diplomacy and time for you to go do something else.”

Jack held up his hands as he backed away. “Okay, okay, fine. You’re not telling Dad, are you?”

“Right now?” Samira said, her hands on her hips. “Right now, I’m tempted. Now go do something useful while I try getting us back in line. Playing stupid games wins you stupid prizes.”

Jack sighed as he ducked under the door frame. Well, he couldn’t argue with logic. He was pretty damn lucky to be alive and Sam knew it. She was the one who found him, all those years ago. She was also the one who taught him everything he knew about space travel. Jack stepped around thick wires and hoses draped over the catwalk. He dodged one of the robotic cleaning droids - mice, if he wanted to be particular - and wandered into the galley. There wasn’t much to do now but wait.

Jack hated waiting. He sat down at the table and drummed his fingers on the golden wood. He pulled at his light, loose grey cotton shirt, then stamped his feet against the colorful floor tiles. Even here, in the galley, wires ran across the walls. Some of them were connected to monitors, while others vanished into the Hydra’s guts. The air always smelled faintly metallic and slightly greasy. A low mechanical hum rang through the quiet air. Jack checked the screen nearest to him and sighed.

So far, so good on the cargo side of things. They were still two days ahead of schedule. He could always wait just a little bit longer.

Something clicked and the Hydra shuddered. Jack jerked his head up. His hand instantly went to his empty holster as he waited. Unease spiked through him. He bared his teeth, waiting for any hint of danger.

Thirty seconds later, Sam walked into the galley. “Done and dealt with.”

Jack stared at her. “How?”

“It’s called being nice.” Sam swept part of her scarf over her shoulder and shrugged. Her light blue robe rippled slightly in the cross draft. “You should try it sometime. We’ll be docked within the hour.”

“Thank God.” Jack sagged back against the chair. “Seriously, Sam, how do you do it?”

Sam’s claws extended ever so slightly from her fingertips. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Would I be asking you if I didn’t?”

Sam smirked, flashing her pointy white teeth. “He’s Meehran.”

“And I didn’t pick up on that?” Jack asked. “Gods above, you think I’d know that by now!”

Sam shrugged. Her normally brown skin had been turned pale from years of living in space, though she was far darker than Jack ever would be. Jack looked like what he was - a human from Earth. America, to be exact. He’d long since given up trying to explain astronauts and rockets to a people that had been traveling through space for centuries. As far as Sam understood, Jack was simply another spacer that had gotten sucked into hyperspace and couldn’t get out.

Apparently, it happened frequently enough that the Andromedii rescue team had a protocol for it. Jack didn’t understand the physics behind it. He did know, though, that he was lucky to be alive. If he had crashed anywhere but Meehra, he probably would have died. He should have died. There was no real explanation for why his rickety little human space shuttle had survived a force that regularly destroyed Andromedii battleships. Hyperspace was dangerous and going too deep was an almost certain death sentence.

“He’s not Meehra Meehran,” Sam said as she sat down. “That might be why. And, if you’ve forgotten, you’re adopted.”

Jack gave her a long look. “Thanks,” he said. He gestured to her almost feline features. “I’d forgotten that for... oh, thirty seconds?”

Sam smirked. “Try to behave yourself on the Dock, okay? I have business to deal with. I’m not going to bail you out if you get arrested again.”

“That was one time, Sam!” Jack yelped. “And he deserved getting punched in the face!”

“Maybe, next time you decide to punch someone,” Sam said, “make sure it’s not the governor’s son?”

Jack rubbed his face. “I’m never living that one down, am I?”

“Nope.” Sam popped the “p”.

Sam kicked her feet up on the table and grabbed her book. It was a battered paperback of some sort and the type of thing only she would pick up. Jack kept his eye out for odd books she liked, while Sam kept an eye out for anything from Earth. They were good to each other. Jack figured that was the only reason their little company had survived as long as it did. Andromeda always had some sort of trouble. Either the royal family was starting shit or the different factions wanted power. The latest ones were the Kai.

Jack didn’t know too much about them. As far as he knew, they kept to themselves in the Far Reaches and only came into civilized space if they needed something. They had their own religion, their own customs, and their own language. Somehow, they thought that made them better than the rest of the universe. Sam wouldn’t go near them if she saw them, which was enough for Jack. If the Kai and their stiff, austere black robes scared her, he didn’t need to know how bad they really were.

“It was one time, Sam,” Jack whined. He leaned back on two chair legs. “After that, I’ve made sure not to punch anyone over the rank of common gutter scum that looked at you the wrong way.”

Sam thumbed through her book. “I’m not listening.”

“Yes, you are,” Jack said in a sing-song voice. He leaned forward and pushed her book back. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Sam groaned. “Go check the cargo, please. I want to finish this chapter before I have to deal with dockers.”

Jack knew when he was beat. He wasn’t going to win a fight with Sam when she wasn’t in the mood to play. He stood up, careful to break the rickety old chair, and wandered down to the hold. He ran his hands over the Hydra’s cold metal walls. She shivered around him and her wires hummed. Fans churned up the air in her belly. They provided enough of a breeze that Jack found himself wishing for a jacket. Meehra was a world of scorching days and freezing nights. Sam set the air conditioning accordingly.

“Why couldn’t I have crashed on one of those paradise planets I saw on Star Trek?” Jack muttered as he walked.

He flipped the lights on in the cargo hold, stuck his head in, and shrugged. Well, nothing to see here. It all looked normal. He glanced at his wrist, almost like he expected to see a golden watch. Instead of beautiful metal, though, all he saw was the watch’s imprint seared into his skin. Jack shuddered. That one had hurt coming off. He hadn’t known that flesh and metal could sear together like that until he’d crashed. Everyone on Meehra said his survival was nothing short of a miracle, but Jack wasn’t so sure.

If you asked him, someone up there had a sick sense of humor.

Jack grabbed his comm and flipped the lid. “Everything’s all clear down here,” he said. “How’s it going topside, Sam?”

“I’m getting to the good part of my book,” Sam replied. “Please go find something to do before I invent it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack saluted, then smirked. “I’m going back to the bridge.”

“If you screw up what I just made, I’m going to tell Dad,” Sam warned. “Then the Hydra’s going to be my ship again.”

“I thought she was your ship last week,” Jack said. He ducked a bundle of low hanging wires and wandered toward the cockpit. “No one said you could skip my turn!”

He sat back in the captain’s chair and watched as Space Dock 9 slowly came into view. The dock was a big thing, slowly rotating around the barren planet behind them. It was all dusty, dark streaked metal, scored from the impact of dozens of micro asteroids. Great bay doors occasionally opened and closed, either releasing or capturing smaller ships. The Hydra would be headed to one of the rear bays - the only ones large enough to take a caravel. Caravel type ships were the workhorses of Andromeda, so Jack did thing it was a bit odd that Dock 9 couldn’t quite take them.

He frowned as he thought. Did the Kai not use caravels? He knew they were close to Kai space (a bit closer than Sam wanted to be, in fact), but he didn’t see why a Kai official wouldn’t want to admit caravels. Jack tried to keep out of Andromedii politics unless he had to, though even he knew that the Kai claimed to reject as much of Sci culture as they could. Honestly, the conversation made his head hurt. If you asked him, Kai and Sci were the same thing, with just a few minor cultural differences.

Then again, back on Earth, brutal wars had been fought over smaller differences.

Metal groaned as Dock 9′s artificial gravity engines captured it. For a second, the screens on the Hydra’s control board flickered as they adjusted. Jack paid them little attention. That sort of thing always happened. Then, just as quickly as it started, the flickering stopped. Jack checked the readouts. Everything looked normal. The Hydra’s engines automatically reduced power as she came closer to the dock. Jack didn’t even see anything unusual as they came closer to the monolith.

Still, he couldn’t shake the growing unease. It was almost exactly like the time he’d stepped into that space capsule. Jack had been scared out of his mind then and knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He had that same feeling now. He grabbed his comm, intending to call the whole thing off, but put it down. They needed this job. Hell, they needed any job they could get right now. Jack chewed on his bottom lip as he leaned back in the chair. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

Space Dock 9 probably wasn’t a stop they needed to make again. They would do this job and do it well, but after that...

Well, the Hydra would never darken Dock 9′s bays ever again.