Melody · Part 2 (2/2)
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e did wear a mirlivima’s collar. In fact, if the Commonwealth pilots were all out on patrol, she was the only starfighter pilot on the tender.
Besides, it would get her out of Max’s quarters. And it would give her a chance to try a Scoutship from inside.
It wasn’t as if either side would be giving away secrets, though. Scoutships were the standard starfighters of the Commonwealth, and Gunfighters the usual ones for the pirates, but both sides had captured so many starfighters that they now routinely traded them back, along with the pilots. This was a function, as an engineer might say, of both improvements in shielding technology and of the Epsilon Conventions. In the old days, the Terran Empire fought ruthlessly against the Sagittarian Brotherhood, blasting them out of space and executing them when captured. And, Melody admitted, the old pirates had been pretty ruthless in return. After the fall of Terra, the Orion Commonwealth had continued this policy, until the Battle of Bedlam.
The bloody Battle of Bedlam had been more shocking, in its own way, than even the destruction of Terra. Immediately afterwards, the Sagittarians and the Commonwealth had agreed on an armistice, and had hammered out the Epsilon Conventions to support it. The armistice had lasted less than a year, but with the Epsilon conventions in place, planetside populations were safe from raids, pilots with overloaded shields accepted stasis rather than making suicide runs, and prisoners were well-treated and regularly exchanged. The Sagittarians still took merchant ships as reparations from the Terran Empire and its successors, and the Commonwealth still tried to stop them, but death in space combat had become vanishingly rare. Only the merchants complained, and even their yowls were muted, these days.
Dialing in the simulators, so that their ‘feel’ matched those of a real starfighter, turned out to be just as boring as Melody expected, but took less time than she had feared. She sat in one of the Gunfighters’ simulated cockpits, and ‘flew’ the standard test pattern. The first time it felt like piloting a child’s toy with sand in its works, but by the fifth circuit it felt just like the simulator back on the Amazon Princess – or like the beginning of her last flight, searching for prey. She touched the collar under her flight suit. And next time, Max Anders, I will wear the boots and you will be the barefoot one.
Afterwards, she switched to one of the Scoutship simulators and took the pilot’s traditional reward for dialing in a simulator, flying the ‘aces high’ scenario. She took a few minutes to check herself out on the unfamiliar controls: The Amazon Princess didn’t have Scoutship simulators, although plenty of other pirate vessels did. The Scoutship was bigger than the Gunfighter, and therefore slower, in obedience to the physical laws governing ship drives. But not much slower, and not nearly as clumsy as she feared. It wasn’t as nimble as a Gunfighter, of course, but in Melody’s opinion the 25% increase in shield strength more than made up for it.
Melody found herself panting from the heat when the scenario ended, so she skinned out of the flight suit as she left the simulator cockpit. “The environmental controls are set a bit high, at least for Narnow,” she said as she adjusted her faux-kimono.
“Thanks, I’ll take care of that,” Janet said waiving her acknowledgment. Max stood beside her, still in his flight suit – a real flight suit, rather than the simulator version. He was smiling, admiring the skimpiness of her dress.
“Commander Tiyah-Dunn’s been telling me how you agreed to assist her,” he said. “And about how you’ve been having your fun. ‘When the mice are away, the cat will play,’ “ “That’s not right,” Janet said.
“Hush, you,” Max told her, then turned back to Melody. “Now maybe you understand what we Commonwealth pilots have to go through, going up against your Gunfighters in these Scouthogs.”
“I understand that the Commonwealth has better engineers,” Melody purred. “You need stronger shields, to make up for your weaker piloting skills.”
“Pilots!” Janet was elbow-deep in the gravitronic guts of the simulator, but her tone implied throwing both her hands in the air. The other two ignored her.
“Weaker skills my ass,” Max said. “The stronger shields only partly make up for –”
At that moment, alarms went off. “Red alert! Red alert!” the bot voices shouted. “All crew to stations! All pilots prepare to launch!”
The two Commonwealth officers looked at Melody in consternation, and then Max pounced. In a handful of seconds he bound her wrists behind her with a roll of tape fished from his flight suit, then bundled her into the simulator cockpit and taped her ankles as well. The hatch closed on her, and she heard the pounding of his boots as he raced for his starfighter.
Melody yowled in belated protest, but it made sense, once she had a moment to think. Her parole wouldn’t – couldn’t – be honored during a red alert, and so she had to be secured. Neither Max nor Janet could be spared to escort her back to Max’s quarters, and so she had to be secured quickly. This was quickly. She would have done the same to him, if the situation were reversed and she had though of it. But Max had enjoyed it, she thought, squirming into a somewhat more comfortable position. Well, she would have enjoyed it too, she admitted to herself. She’d have to remember this trick, in case she ever had an excuse to use it. And she’d have to practice. She pulled at her bonds, uselessly. Max must have practiced to be able to bind her both so quickly and so effectively.
Someone, mercifully, turned on the comm in the simulator, so Melody could follow the chatter as events unfolded. Two fleets had jumped into the system. One was the Sword of Kings and her escorts, the Commonwealth fleet that the tender had been detached from. The other was an unidentified pirate fleet, which had appeared out-system but was closing fast. Both fleets pumped out starfighters, screening the larger ships.
But then a message came through from the pirate fleet: “Code White: Prisoner Exchange. Code White: Prisoner Exchange. This is Commodore Mei-Qin Jones calling the Commonwealth commander. Code White: Prisoner Exchange…”
And an answering message in a gravelly Sarm voice “This is Admiral Kargan Karsh, commanding the Sword of Kings. Confirm Code White. I say again, Confirm Code White. All starfighters will return to their bays. Tender 14, Tender 76, and Tender 94 will dock with the Sword. All other ships will take standby stations.”
Well, that’s a relief. Melody thought. Then it hit her: Prisoner exchange. It wasn’t fair; she’d been mirlivima for only a day. Max would be so disappointed.
She tried to imagine their next encounter, with Max as the barefoot mirlivima surrendering to her booted self. But it might be weeks – seasons, even – before we have another chance to fly against each other. She squirmed, struggling futilely against her bonds and fuming at the injustice of the universe until Max finally arrived to free her.
“Well,” Max said, once he had cut away the tape. “I guess it will be good-bye soon.”
“For now,” Melody answered, trying to cheer him up. “But not forever.”
“For long enough.”
“And when we do meet again, you’ll have your superior starfighter,” Melody snipped, suddenly irritated at the way Max echoed her own thoughts.
“What do you mean, ‘superior’?” he snapped back. “I told you: It’s the Scouthog. Sure,” he huffed, “it’s shields might give an advantage when two inferior pilots dogfight. But when a superior pilot – when two equally superior pilots encounter each other, your Gunfighter has the edge.”
“I’d like to see you prove that!”
“In the simulators you mean? We might have time to do that, before the prisoner exchange finishes.” His expression grew thoughtful. “We really might have time, if you’re up for it.”
“In the simulators?” Melody echoed. “It’s not the same. We’d have to wager something on the outcome, of course, but it couldn’t be the same stakes as a real dogfight.”
“Maybe it could be,” Max was still thoughtful. “Or maybe not. The brass would never go for it.”
“Go for what?” Then Melody realized what Max was thinking. “You mean having the simulator dogfight count as real, with the loser surrendering as mirlivima? You could ask. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
“It depends on how annoyed they get. But it still might be worth asking – if we can answer their objections.” He grinned. “I’ll take you for another torture session in the shower, and then we can think about it.”
Max patted a pocket of his flight suit. “Now, will you come along quietly, or will I have to tape you again?”
“I’ll come quietly,” Melody answered. “This time. But only because I’m too busy thinking to resist.”
Max initially put his request to Commander Saunders, who shunted it up the chain of command. The response came swiftly, and so less than an hour later Max braced to attention before Admiral Karsh, with Melody standing quietly half a step behind him and to his side. The reptilian Sarm looked over the two with a cold eye then returned to the memo displayed on his terminal.
“Let me see if I understand this, Lieutenant,” he said in his gravelly voice. “You propose a simulator battle, with you in a Gunfighter, and M’rerallie Clan Chumf in a Scoutship simulator.”
“Yessir.”
“And you further propose that the loser remain behind as a prisoner, after this exchange ends.”
“Yessir.”
“And how do you propose to explain this… oversight?”
“Sir, if Melody loses the paperwork for her transfer can be ‘temporarily misplaced’ until the next exchange. And if I lose… If I lose, I can be caught, after the transfer ends, in an ‘unauthorized commando raid.’”
“I hope your realize just how half-baked your idea is, Lieutenant,” the Admiral said almost casually. Then his voice turned cold: “It is not acceptable for any officer in this command to simply ‘lose’ paperwork concerning a prisoner exchange. It is even less acceptable for an officer in this command to participate in an ‘unauthorized commando raid.’ You do agree, don’t you, Lieutenant?”
“Sir, Yessir!”
“Good.” Admiral Karsh leaned back in his station chair – a custom job, designed to fit his large, heavy-tailed body – and pressed a stud. Above the holoplate attached to his terminal, Commodore Jones appeared. “You received the memo, Mei-Qin?” Karsh asked the female leader of the pirate fleet.
“Yup, sure did,” her electronic image replied.
“So, a bottle of port to a bottle of brandy?”
“Make it two bottles, Kargan,” the Commodore answered. “But only if the wingmen agree.”
“One isn’t enough of a test? Fair enough,” the Admiral rumbled before cutting the comm. He turned to his two visitors, still standing at attention. “Dismissed, Lieutenant. Escort your mirlivima to shuttle bay…” he glanced at his terminal, “Fifty-four, and await further orders.”
Shuttle bay fifty-four was busy with the prisoner exchange: A few mirlivima, but mostly captives still in stasis. They would be ‘defrosted’ once returned to their own side.
Melody found a place to sit, and Max sat beside her. “Your admiral will allow us a simulator flight,” she said. “You hear what he said to Commodore Jones. He just didn’t approve of the stakes.”
“I’m not so sure. He could just be twisting our tails, with that bit at the end.”
“You don’t have a tail,” Melody objected.
“He’s Admiral Karsh,” Max answered. “He can twist your tail even if you don’t have a tail.”
A few minutes later a Juddoian crewer in a Commonwealth uniform arrived, with two plain boxes. “Here, Sir,” he handed them to Max. They were as long as his forearms, and heavy. “Admiral’s orders, Sir, and you are to take the next shuttle to the Amazon Princess. Give one of those boxes to Flight Officer Kim, and if you’re asked to give them up, do so and take your medicine. And for the gods sakes, don’t drop them Sir.”
“What’s this about, spaceman?” Max asked sharply.
“Admiral’s orders, Sir,” the crewer repeated. “You’ll learn when you arrive. And I’m to take over here until you get back.” He nodded respectfully to Melody.
The arrival tone dinged, and the current shuttle began to disgorge passengers. “You’d better go, Sir,” the crewer said, glancing up at the general readout.
“I’ll see you later,” Max told Melody. She answered with a smile, and he moved off to join the embarkation line.
The crewer waited patiently beside Melody. One of the passengers from the shuttle – a Narnow – moved toward them. She was carrying a pair of boxes similar to the ones Max had taken, and she looked like… “Holly,” Melody said. “What in the demon’s names are you doing here?”
Holly grinned, human-style, and handed one of her boxes over. “Commodore Jone’s complement’s cuz, and you’re to keep this until asked for.”
“That’s what Max was told,” Melody said. “So now what do we do?”
“Didn’t you know? It was your idea after all. We have a simulator battle to fight.”
“That’s right Ma’am,” the crewer broke in. “I’m to escort you both to Tender 94.”
Wearing a simulator flight suit, sitting in a simulator cockpit, and flying through simulated space, Melody wondered how real the situation was. She still didn’t know what the stakes were in this contest. Well, even if she was only flying for the honor of the Amazon Princess and Commodore Jones, she’d still have to do her best.
“Stay awake, cuz,” Holly’s voice came over the comm.
“I am awake,” Melody answered. “And there they are. Let’s get ‘em, cuz.”
Flying through simulated space, two Scoutships charged two Gunfighters. The Gunfighters broke left together – right at Melody – and she looped away in an evasion pattern. Two sets of autoblasters caught a piece of her, and almost sent her into stasis. Almost.
Holly caught one of the Gunfighters and hammered it hard in return. It twisted away into its own evasion pattern, and Melody took advantage to drop on the other Gunfighter’s tail. Her own shields needed time to regenerate, but if she could stase her opponent quickly… It fell into her sights, the targeting computer locked, and she hammered it hard – but not hard enough. It slipped away, and she couldn’t reestablish lock. But it couldn’t break clean, either. Until, finally “Ha, got you,” she breathed. The scoutship spun, lining up the shot, and then… I didn’t think a Gunfighter could do that Melody had time to think before it sent her into stasis.
It was simulated stasis, of course. The simulator’s controls locked, and a bot-voice droned “Stasis…stasis…stasis…” Melody killed the voice and set the controls to observer mode.
Melody’s opponent now raced after Holly, and Holly turned aggressively against her own opponent before she could be taken in a two-on-one. It almost worked, but Holly fired before her lock was quite good enough. Her opponent returned fire more accurately, and Holly’s scoutship drifted in simulated stasis as well.
Janet was waiting for them when they emerged from the simulators. “My condolences,” she said, handing each of them a juice bulb.
“Fortunes of war,” Holly said with a careless flick of her ears. “Thank you.” She drank half the bulb at once, then started stripping out of her flight suit.
Melody did the same. It was the tender’s flight suit, after all, not hers. And it wasn’t even a real flight suit, just a simulator version. “Now what?”
“Now I claim those two boxes of yours,” Janet said, “And then you can just relax until it’s time for you to return to your ship.” Holly snorted at that, and Janet seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face. She accepted the two unmarked boxes from the felines, then turned back to her memo board, suddenly interested in the eternal datawork battle.
Holly stretched out by the simulator and dozed. Melody sat with her thoughts running in circles: They had to be. But then how could they? So they couldn’t be. But they had to be.
I have to think of something else she told herself. Well, there was the Scoutship. It wasn’t the wallowing beast Max had claimed, but its improved shields weren’t the advantage she had thought they would be. Not against a good pilot, and Max is a good pilot. But so am I. So next time… but that threatened to send her thoughts into the whirlpool again.
Max arrived with his brother Kim, both men grinning hugely. “Good, you’re here,” Janet said. “These two had a pair of suspicious boxes.” She opened one and pulled out a bottle. “Iridian brandy,” she said, looking at the label. “I’d better take these to the Admiral.” She left the chamber.
“Iridian brandy’s strictly contraband, here in the Commonwealth,” Kim said. Both brothers were grinning widely enough to split their faces, while Holly looked both amused and disgusted.
“Admiral Karsh gave orders that any Sagittarians caught smuggling would be kept prisoner until the next exchange,” Max said.
Oh, Melody realized belatedly, so that’s how they arranged it. And Max was behind her now massaging her neck and shoulders. She leaned into him, encouraging him to do more, and felt her hands gently drawn behind her and fastened in the memory-leather.
Holly stood facing Kim. “I’m sure Commodore Jones gave similar orders,” she said with dignity.
Melody didn’t think Kim’s grin could grow any wider, but it did. “Yes,” he answered. “But we weren’t caught.”
Holly threw her dignity into the air, along with the few bits of clothing she had worn under the flight suit. She knelt before Kim and clasped her hands behind her neck.
“H’wollie Clan Chumf,” Kim said formally. “I offer you mirlivima. Do you request the Right of Stasis?”
“No,” Holly answered. “I am mirlivima.”
Max handed Kim the roll of tape, and Kim stepped forward. Melody didn’t catch what passed between Kim and her cousin – she was too distracted by Max’s clever fingers in her fur. She squirmed against him as his hands teased her breasts and belly, ran down to the outsides of her thighs and back up again. But her curiosity drove her to ask a question.
“What’s that tape? It didn’t stick to my fur when you used it on me, before.”
“It’s a special adhesive,” he whispered in her ear before nibbling it. “It sticks to anything except protein – like leather, hair, or skin.” He kissed her, and whispered into her other ear. “I have another roll in my quarters, if you want to see what it can do.”
“Yes,” she answered, and found herself being picked up and carried off.
(end)
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Melody · Part 2 (2/2)
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