Another Job, a New Face

[Ethan Neufeld 0]

A few steps away, Sal Rosetto and Alex Macen were passionately conversing over the Zoalus data on a science console. Ethan shifted where he leaned on the unoccupied bridge station, reflecting as he waited to show Macen to his quarters.

 

He was still fatigued. He hadn't found much sleep in the end; an hour after dozing off he'd received a call from Captain Manning. His crew was returning to the Qob and the ships were decoupling for the last leg of their flight. Manning had negotiated for the custody of the half-Caitian raider, Zaphod Dracal, but he was still recovering in the Verbistul's sickbay. He wanted Neufeld to return to the Verbistul to keep an eye on Zaphod and stand ready to escort him and a liaison to the Qob once they arrived at Zoalus.

 

Ethan was fully dressed, armed and there within five minutes of the call. Then, without ceremony, the ships separated and Ethan was figuratively alone on decks more foreign to him than the Qob had become. The lone Federal Marshal sent into a town deep in the Wild West to take a prisoner from the local sheriff and transport him back to a Federal Penitentiary.

 

In spite of all that had happened and his presence, the atmosphere on the Verbistul had calmed back into routine. The last hours to Zoalus were long and uneventful, but Ethan wouldn't have a chance to relax. He was occupied by the tedium of standing guard and sorting out the administrative bits, and carrying out his task as dutifully as any other without a word or sign of complaint.

 

 

 

"Okay, Dracal, Zaphod." The Verbistul's Security Chief visually scanned a row of boxes stacked in a corner of the improvised security office. The compartment looked like a small, unused auxiliary lab, cut down the center by a long table complete with built-in sinks and valves. Chromed, magnetic-footed stools surrounded the table. Plain cabinetry and a counter, on which the boxes had been placed, covered the width of one bulkhead from deck to overhead. At one end of the table sat another security officer, quietly recording logs from the recent hijacking into a shared mobile data terminal. Ethan curiously noticed that both Alex and the security officer were no longer armed.

 

Finding the box she was looking for, Alex slipped it from the counter and carried it to the table. "Let's see what we've got," she said as she set it down. The sides were marked up with thick black lines that crossed out its original label.

 

"Is that a used food container?" Ethan wryly asked.

 

She made a face. "It's a private science ship, not a trillion dollar customs cutter," she retorted and turned to consult a property sheet. Like any prisoner, Zaphod's belongings had been confiscated, catalogued and stored in a box until they could be returned or destroyed. Ethan opened it and glanced inside to find that, unsurprisingly, Zaphod hadn't brought much with him.

 

"Okay," Alex hummed. She began listing and checking off the contents as Ethan removed each item and neatly packed them in a duffel bag. The bag had been donated by the Verbistul's crew; more out of their relief that the terrorist was departing than goodwill.

 

Packing Zaphod within a few seconds, Alex sighed. "Okay, next we pick up his phaser and blades from the armory. Oh, and I think you'll like his phaser." She grinned at him.

 

Ethan's brow rose in open surprise. "We're returning his weapons?"

 

"Orders from Captain Maxwell. He said if your Captain—"

 

He cut her off with a pointed finger. "Not my Captain," he reminded dispassionately. He may have been working with them in the interest of Zoalus and taking orders from Manning, but he had no intention of remaining on or with the Qob once his own objective was completed.

 

"If Captain Manning," Alex amended, "wanted Zaphod, he could have all of him, including his weapons. I think he's still upset with how things were handled." She shifted her weight. "Speaking of which, Maxwell's not happy that you brought your rifle back with you," she said, stabbing a finger back at him and the carbine that was slung over his left shoulder. "He says you upset his scientists and told me under no uncertain terms are you to 'harass Zaphod or make a scene'." The new grin on her face said she was amused with the circumstances and not much of a devoted messenger. She turned from the table and strolled for the door.

 

Ethan grunted, tightly smiled an incredulous expression and grabbed the duffel by its nylon straps, pulling it off the table. He returned a nod to the security officer still seated at the end of the table as he passed and exited behind Alex into the corridor.

 

For nearly a minute they walked in silence and then Alex abruptly spoke. "What happens after Zoalus?"

 

Ethan regarded the young woman as she walked to his left. Her eyes barely passed his shoulder and she was slender but fierce and reveled in the heightening effects of conflict. Her face was shrouded by short, platinum-streaked strawberry blonde hair that didn't touch her shoulders. Alexsha Vi Dantinamede was her full name, but she preferred the simple human nickname Alex. She was twenty-two Earth years and appeared as unadulteratedly human as he genuinely was, but he knew she wasn't. Born in Bull's Head, she was the realization of two centuries of interstellar society and human relations with other humanoids. Her heritage was so mixed that even she wasn't sure what sort of recessive genetics she had or if her children would remotely look like her. Perhaps humans were going the way of the ancient Hawaiians, Ethan permissively mused with the detachment of a scholar.

 

He returned his eyes forward. "Why?" he finally asked after a drawn out silence, suspecting her intentions.

 

She seemed mildly annoyed by the question. "I want to know what we're going to do if we find it. And!" she warned, wagging a finger. "Don't try pulling that plakta about 'there's no we'. I helped you get into Xorax and I'm coming with you on Zoalus. You're ko if you think you're going alone after that."

 

"Mm," Ethan minimally sounded, neither accepting nor denying her assertion.

 

Obviously pleased with herself, Alex fell into a swagger over the last few meters and then stopped at a door. Retrieving an ident-card from her pocket she swiped it over the panel and the computer acknowledged. The door hissed open and the lights activated, revealing a fully stocked armory.

 

Ethan stepped inside and set Zaphod's duffel down as he looked around. "You're sure this is just a science vessel," he remarked dryly.

 

"Don't be stupid," Alex impishly snapped and waved dismissively at the racks of phasers. "This was only installed for Zoalus." She checked off two items on her list; then pulled two blades from the rack and handed them to Ethan: a bat'leth and another Ethan had never seen before. Sheaths had been fashioned out of pieces of used food containers and insulating tape, covering the sharpened edges. Casually he put them into the duffel without a second glance. Galactic blades were like tribbles and his interest in any cutting weapon was subjective, favoring ancient, traditional human designs over alien.

 

"Where was all of this when you were boarded?"

 

Alex scoffed. "Me and the Captain have the only keys and Captain Maxwell didn't want his crew getting shot because they were armed. Even we have to rack our weapons underway," she said, indicating her missing holster. "He doesn't see the need for us to be armed aboard ship. If you haven't noticed, he's one of those sort of pacifist types. He's probably going to try to negotiate a ceasefire with the drones on Zoalus and then ask you guys to clean up the mess." Her comments were bleeding with sarcasm, though based on a small grain of truth.

 

Checking off the final item on the property sheet, she pulled an assault phaser from the rack that was the same model as Ethan's. "But the kitty has your tastes," she observed as she passed the sleek and menacing weapon to him.

 

Ethan admired it in his hands, a mild expression of surprise on his face. He pushed the cowling forward to ensure the weapon was deactivated. "Y'know, some Caitians find that offensive," he said and gave her a faintly disapproving glance.

 

She shrugged. "Some people are too sensitive."

 

Ethan briefly furrowed his brow. There was no doubt in his mind that her sentiment had been shaped by years of intolerance. Appearing human, she might not have received as much as some, but she'd grown to embrace the words that'd been spitefully thrown at her. He'd once heard her self-identify as a 'the mutt of all mutts'. She seemed to take it as a cosmic joke.

 

Tucking the phaser into the duffel, Ethan zipped it closed and passed it to Alex. Finished, they exited and locked the armory. From there, the duffel was transported to sickbay where it was signed over to the medical staff for Zaphod, and Ethan resumed his watch.

 

The half-Caitian must not have been aware that Ethan knew the duffel's contents when asking if he could bring his weapons aboard the Qob. For a moment, Ethan had considered answering with a solid negative and re-confiscating them. But the Qob wasn't his ship or crew; he personally wouldn't have considered recruiting Zaphod or letting him aboard outside of a brig. It struck Ethan that Captain Manning should be given the chance to use his command discretion on his own ship, and he'd left it at that. More risk than he liked, but not his decision. When the time came, Ethan had even allowed Zaphod to carry his belongings, which wasn't a friendly or trusting gesture. Ethan wasn't going to tie up his own hands and had decided to unhesitantly shoot Zaphod the moment he made the slightest movement for his weapons.

 

It hadn't been necessary. Zaphod had submissively walked to the airlock, the only twitch coming from his nervous or rueful tail. And, as things turned out, Zaphod's weapons had been taken away by Manning until Pher, the Qob's Security Chief, could approve them. It wasn't the outcome Ethan expected, given he'd been left unmolested as an armed passenger.

 

But maybe that was just a matter of time and circumstances, he thought as he stood on the Qob's bridge and shifted his weight again. He listened to Rosetto and Macen carry on about Zoalus; then looked up at the mysterious and dangerous globe they were orbiting, musing that their arrival was turning out a bit more anticlimactic than he'd expected.

Edited July 5, 2011 by Ethan Neufeld