The Retrofit: The Callistar 1.0

Chapter Sixteen

KIRA

Watson leaned against the doorframe, one leg crossed at the ankle, both hands resting in pockets on the black slacks he chose from the fabricator. Kira peered over, watching every slow inhale and exhale through the baby blue sweater he paired them with. The tight-knit material clung to him in unexpected ways.

A spark of jealousy flew through her at the idea he’d never have to work to maintain his new form. It faded as quickly as it hit because she’d miss food. “This feels like a memory.” She began re-shelving a book, her room still disheveled. Jackets across her chair, her bed barely thrown together so that the pillow vaguely covered, books everywhere, pens everywhere, and her data pad halfway covered where it sat on the table.

“Except your room is bigger,” Watson spoke cheekily, eyes roving over the mess.

There was no discernible reason for him to have to look so earnestly. Kira knew he’d memorized it the instant the door had opened. His programming allowed that. Quinn was the same way. But he was- she shook her head, dark hair revealing purple sheen in the light as it covered her cheeks. “Well, it was a smaller ship.”

“Much smaller.” Stepping in so the door would close, he found a space of wall free of posters to lean into.

“I wasn’t captain then.” Pulling the line of books forward on the shelf, she evened out their placement.

“No, you weren’t.”

“Do you remember old Hues?”

“I remember him well, and that chewing out you got when you subverted his orders.”

Kira tossed the pillow off her chair at him with a broad grin. “I seem to remember you supported me. Then you laughed at me after he got done tearing me a new one.”

“I seem to recall,” he said, catching the pillow without issue, squeezing it. “That it was rather hilarious to see you put in your place. Hues even reported it to Toke.”

“Did he?”

“Yes, he did. He received back the equivalent of ‘good luck’ regarding you.” The pillow made its way back across the room.

It hit her squarely. So light, yet so heavy, bearing a weight she couldn’t explain. “Hues didn’t deserve what I put him through.”

“Hey… hey.” The room was swallowed in a few brief steps, and he supported her, holding her upper arms to keep her steady. “Nothing that happened was your fault. You did your best.”

His skin relayed warmth. Even through her shirt she felt it, the way it spread over her. He breathed, his heart beat falsely. If she felt for pulses, they’d be there. Yet he didn’t feel real because underneath it all she knew he was somewhere between a machine and a man… just as Quinn was.

Watson’s eyes were a deeper blue, resembling deep water pure enough to just be so blue all the way down. No light flashed behind his eyes, but no stars rested there either, like they’d done in Quinn’s last night.

“I did,” she finally agreed, lost back to that day when she peered up at those different depths.

Five years prior.

A shrill alarm woke her, ringing in her ears, alerting her to an emergency on the ship. A voice called to her, not over the comm, but from the hall. “Kira! There’s a fire!”

Knocking accompanied the yelling, as if the alarm hadn’t been enough to wake her. Leaving no time for precautions, and no time to worry about what she looked like. She bolted up and out of her cabin, wearing a thin one piece suit that was loose over her limbs, akin to an Earthen flight suit that did its job to protect the skin.

Hair whipped around her face as she came face to face with a frightened boy. Only fifteen, just an ensign assigned to the ship sent to get her, “The captain, he is-”

“Just show me.”

Fires were deadly when they had oxygen to feed them. Ships could close off vents, clear out a room of oxygen, but it depended on the location. He shot off towards the engines… it was never a good sign.

Following with haste, several others were on their way but they made room for the two. Kira’s designation clipped onto her shoulders, the thin black lapel bars on the dark navy giving her first mate status.

The bulkhead doors slammed shut, small viewing windows gave them but a small glimpse of what happened inside. The engineer could be seen. He held an extinguisher, flinging the spray back and forth over a roaring flame larger than the man. It surrounded the center console for the engine.

“Ipson!” She tried the doors. They were immovable, but the comm remained open. “Give me your code to override so I can help you.”

Ipson looked back, face painted black with smoke. He wasn’t the one that answered.

“Can’t do that, Ma’am.” Another voice came through. She swiveled, trying to get a better view. She knew that voice, Watson.

The ensign stood at her shoulder. The boy, not having his full growth, Kira growled at him. “Go to the communications officer. Get out an SOS. Get us a nearby ship for aid.”

“Belay that ensign.” Inside the engine room came the voice of Hues. “Do the SOS, but on the private line, we’ve got precious cargo.”

“Captain-“ Kira protested.

“Don’t Captain me Missie. Just do as I say. We’re getting this under control.”

Her foot hit the bottom of the metal hard enough to make her swear, but she got the boy underway. Hitting off the comms, she turned to one of the engineering officers. “I need these doors open. Now.”

“Ma’am, I can’t do that. If I open them, it’ll make it impossible to vent the room.”

“NO ONE IS GOING TO VENT THE DAMN ROOM!”

The line opened back up with a click. “Kira, drop the oxygen levels,” Watson sent through. “We’ve gotta get this under control.”

Spinning about, ready to refuse that order until Hues came over. “That’s an order from the Captain as well.”

“Do it,” she told the other officer. Touching her implanted communicator, she spoke again, “First Mate to Ensign Bordov.”

“Ma’am.” He spoke with half a breath in the word. The boy couldn’t hide his fear.

“Is Maxim on the bridge?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Good, she thought, the weapons specialist could run things in her stead for however long was necessary. Rising onto her toes to get a better view, she could hear the computer system reacting to the touch of the engineering officer as it gave verbal feedback… “Levels dropping to twenty percent, levels dropping to eighteen percent…”

It became a steady hum in her ear, drowned out by the scene before her.

Ipson still focused on the main flame. It diminished downward. His cheeks puffed out as if he were holding air in his mouth. Watson came up beside him, hauling a large fireproof tarp. On the other side, she could see Hues.

“Smother it,” she whispered.

“Levels rising, twenty-five percent.”

Rising!

“What are you doing?!”

Drawn away from the door towards the console, she froze in place.

The officer had stepped back, hands in the air. A blaster pointed towards him. It was too far to reach easily and the hand holding it…

“Yaris, have you lost your mind?!”

“No, ma’am.” Those eyes were like pitch. He didn’t bother to look in her direction. When Toke said a Mosin would serve on board, she never… she never believed it. Then he’d came. A hairless, strangely gray tinged, humanoid who seemed to lack eyelids. Unblinking, unwavering in how it looked, she’d been reminded of nothingness every time she talked to the man. Still, as First Mate, she’d been friendly, accommodating.

“Kira! What’s happening out there?!” Hues shouted, rage and flame in his very voice as it cracked.

The blaster moved subtly. One shot and the comms were down.

“I’ve been waiting, rather patiently, for this,” Yaris spoke so calmly, so evenly, as if he were ordering his lunch rather than betraying the whole crew.

Keep him talking, Kira thought. She knew she had to distract him in order to get the blaster.

“Oxygen levels at thirty percent.”

“For what?” Gloat, please gloat.

The darkened tip of the weapon moved her direction, aimed squarely at her. Ten feet between them, she wouldn’t make it.

“For a chance at Hues,” Yaris said, all while manipulating the console. The line for the oxygen levels on a bar chart behind him. One could lower them by raising the section up which would show the changes in the other concentrations. “I’ve got nothing against you. Not even against Watson or Ipson, but this… this was too perfect, too… optimal.”

Her translator took his words and made them into the common tongue widely accepted, but beneath it, she could hear him. The guttural vowels strung together in barely discernible variances.

“You won’t make it off this ship alive, Yaris, not if you continue. Just lower the levels and we can talk about this.”

“I don’t intend to make it anywhere.”

The engineering officer, who’d been so quiet, took his chance. He leaped forward, but Yaris had wide vision, too wide and unparalleled senses. The man went down before he’d made it halfway through the air, a burning gaping hole in the center of his abdomen.

Kira took her chances, too. A shot went off. It singed the hair beside her ear. Intense ringing overtook her hearing. The only reason she could still hear him was because of the translator.

“Enough games,” he barked.

“Oxygen levels 100%.” The computer system stated in its monotone, uncaring way.

It exploded.

The doors did their best to contain the breach, but there was very little that could be done as the vents flooded, as the ship flooded. Maxim on the bridge immediately purged the surrounding rooms, sending everything into lockdown.

The air left her very lungs, collapsing them together with the force as she fell to the floor, unconscious instantly.

Bright lights circled overhead when she opened her eyes. An oxygen mask placed over her nose and mouth. Ripping it off and thrusting it aside, she shot to a seated position.

“Whoa, steady Ma’am.” A young female medical officer was at her side, already attempting to replace the mask. “You need this. Your lungs collapsed in the explosion. It’s putting pressure back in to keep them open. We don’t have the surfactant needed to do it without. They’re synthesizing some now.”

“Yaris,” choking out the word, it was half a cough.

“Lieutenant Yaris did not survive the explosion.”

Kira flopped back, relieved, trying to focus her gaze on the attendant. The woman was petite. A quick glance revealed that, short, mousy brown hair but eyes, eyes like Watson’s, that same sort of blue. Opening her mouth like a gaping fish out of water, nothing came out.

“You might not be able to speak much,” the girl informed her. “My name is Bre. I’m in charge of your care. You’re on the Callistar.”

Scanning the room, she discovered it was large, and open. Several other beds were nearby with thick screens of glass that were frosted to protect some privacy. The bands on the mask were put back into place as Bre spoke. “I know you have a lot of questions, so I’ll do my best to answer them. When we arrived at the Hellaris, it was in shambles. The ship’s been brought into the bay, but there’s talk of decommissioning it. Officer Maxim brought it in. I’ve been told you were the First Mate?”

Kira nodded.

“One of the other crew said that you wouldn’t rest until I told you. Captain Hues is dead, as well as Officer Ipson. Officer Watson made it through and was brought aboard, but I’m afraid he’s worse for wear at the moment. We’re doing everything we can for him.”

She blinked.

“You need to rest and keep this mask on. The surfactant should be ready in about an hour. Once it is administered, you’ll be able to move about more freely.”

Another nod.

“I’m going to give you something to help you sleep until then. Your heart rate is very elevated.”

She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but you should feel it already.”

Her eyes grew heavy, unfocused. Reaching for the white jacket the woman wore the lapel was all she felt before the world faded again.

“I’m afraid that the other Praetorian is in worse shape than we thought,” a decidedly male voice said.

Her limbs were numb. The mask had been removed. She couldn’t move. Kira focused on one finger. She tried to curl it inward.

“You don’t think he’ll make it?” Bre, she recognized the soft-spoken female voice.

“The burns were quite extensive. We’ve removed as much damaged tissue as possible, but if we take anymore, there will be an almost complete loss of function. Bearson feels like it would be best to just allow him to go instead of making him suffer even more before it inevitably happens.”

“I’ll have to break it to her.”

One finger, then a second, a fist formed.

“I don’t envy you that one.” The man sounded indifferent.

A second fist.

Bre clicked her tongue. “You have no regard for what they suffered at all. How you’re still working in the medical field, I don’t know.”

“You’ll get there one day, just you wait.” Thick footsteps indicated he left.

Eyelashes flickered.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Bre was at her side, pushing back a piece of her hair. “We can try to sit up again if you’re feeling up to it. The surfactant should be working well now.”

It was painstaking work. Sweat broke out along her forehead as she got into position. The adrenaline of earlier worn off. “I need your help.” Kira took to the woman like a lifeline, gripping her like that.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Bre smiled reassuringly, that sort of polite customer service expression.

“Good.”

“Where did you go?” Watson drew her back to reality. He’d done an excellent job of matching himself, down to a small mole on the curve of his cheek. The beauty mark an exact copy of his prior self.

Her knuckles were white as snow gripping that pillow. “I was just remembering.”

“Well, how about you remember to come launch the ship and do rounds?” That all too familiar grin struck her.

“Rounds upon rounds upon rounds,” she joked. The levity was missing, but she still followed him out. The ship could have run itself, but there was a comfort in the familiarity of eyes on everything, checking and rechecking to make sure the systems were running smoothly, that they were in order as they should be.

“Can you check on the departure paperwork again? Please, Watson? I submitted it a week ago, it should have been approved.”

“Looks like it still needs West’s sign off.”

“That slimy little-” Kira stopped herself. “Bring it to his attention please, with an urgency notice.”

“Done, Captain.”

“Thank you.”

Approval was a gesture of goodwill and not a matter that needed proper clearance. The Eikos was not a proper station that ran by military standards. Submitting the notice was more of a gesture to give warning of their intent to clear the spaceport. Cutting ties with the Eikos and dropping into hyperspace was child’s play in order of procedure. They were on the docket. She’d made sure of that, but she did not expect West to be petty on top of ignorant.

“Ah, he is. He’s requesting an audience.” Watson’s processor was on, so how he felt he should respond, how he normally would have emotionally, came through, and so the clear trepidation at alerting her to that fact came through.

“Go on ahead to the bridge. Let Morgan know I’m behind you.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Watson was not the original A.I. for the Callistar. An old system still existed and with him having a physical body, it felt strange to still call upon him. Formatting her communicator to reconnect to the old one, a warm female voice full of honey spoke back, “Ann activated, how may I be of service?”

“Kira Starling, authorization code K15Q, voice verification as secondary authentication.”

“Kira Starling, current Captain aboard the vessel Callistar. Hello, Captain, how may I be of service?”

“I need to speak to Commander West of the Eikos. Route it to my personal communicator.”

“Right away, Captain.”

Pacing the room, the data pad fit back into her thigh pocket. Gilded metal backed the slim piece of glass to give it more weight. It was a recent addition to her daily routine as now that they would be underway, she would be expected to be reachable by any member of the crew.

“Captain.” Ann came across under her ear this time. “I have Commander West for you.”

“Thank you, Ann.”

“Kira Starling.” His voice like a brand seared into her skin when he said her name. It burned inwardly, acid rising in her esophagus, forcing her to bite down. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You know exactly what I want, West. Delaying our request is ridiculous.”

“Your request?”

Her teeth ground together, clenched too tight, clicking with the ferocity in which she’d shut them to bite back the rising bile. “Yes, a clearance request. We seek to depart this morning.”

“Hmm, let me check with my assistant.”

The line switched to actively holding, instead of elevator music a deep tone went off every half minute.

“Ann?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Monitor the line, please, and let me know when Commander West deigns to return.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The bridge front featured a large overhead display that stretched across the far wall. No actual glass but a massive accurate representation of the stars behind it. Various information scrolled through at the stations beneath it. They cleared out the weapons station and fitted a large metal overlay to the right. The pilot to the left had the touch screen input guide still up. Attuned to fingerprints and warmth, requiring both in the right manner to be usable. On the left and right walls were other stations for monitoring engineering, life systems, and communications. Outdated for their small crew, but normal for a larger outfit.

The feedback from the other stations went directly to the pilot. A monitored list of each on the left in neat little boxes while the synaptic feedback for their radar and speed controls took up the rest of the width available to him.

Centered in the room, behind all this, was a throwback to the days of King Arthur. A round flat top table in black with a shining surface. The chairs were low backed, metal framed with armrests, and solid black fabric covering the bottom and back.

The entire room was clean with smooth lines in steel and white, giving it a pristine but stark appearance. Quinn had hardly touched the design other than to update the stations themselves.

Watson sat to the right of Morgan, where the weapons station used to be. His chair cocked sideways. He perched with one ankle over the other knee in a relaxed position. He did not immediately acknowledge Kira. She knew he heard her enter, but Morgan who stood in the middle of fawning over the new control system didn’t.

“Did you read the material that was sent to you?” Kira had no problem interrupting.

Morgan twisted around, the picture of eagerness. “Every bit. He’s got the thing programmed to where it responds almost to thought. I barely touch it and it is ready to go. Oh, the speed this puppy’s gonna be able to do. No transport should be this fast, Kira. None, but we’ll be able to outclass even racers in this thing.”

Watson turned his face up towards her as she came closer. “I believe he actually did the assigned homework, Captain.”

“I believe so as well,” she jested back.

Morgan focused on showing them the specifics as he cast the schematics onto the main HUD, giving them a run down that even Quinn might have been impressed by. His enthusiasm was infectious, making her smile. Still, Kira did not have to feign irritation when West cropped back up over half an hour since he went to ‘check’ on their clearance.

“I was able to locate it.” His smugness translated well in his voice. “I’m afraid that you’ve missed a few lines concerning the intended destination.”

Kira stepped back to the table, hissing back. “You’re not an official port of call, West. It’s unnecessary.”

“See, you say unnecessary, and I say it is. Our records need to be thorough if we come under inspection.”

I’ll show you thorough, she thought. Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Whether or not you approve it, the Callistar will depart as scheduled, Commander.”

“Unscheduled departures are reported, Captain Starling. It’s in the new bylaws.”

Rubbing her temples, a quick tap behind her ear had her muted to West. “Watson, run through the new bylaws, see if there is anything in station protocols about departures.”

Watson did not give an outright answer. He turned his mind to the task, making a quick search. “What am I looking for in particular, Captain?”

“If unscheduled departures are reported under the guidelines.”

“They are,” Watson confirmed West’s pandering. “Looks like it was added yesterday, the addition, that is.”

Reentering the call, she asked sweetly, “What’s it going to take West?”

“An apology.”

“Fine, I apologize.”

“Now, now, Captain Starling. You can do much better than that. Put some feeling into it, some emotion. Let me hear how sorry you are.”

How much the translator understood and put across was anyone’s guess, but the other two Praetorians in the room got the gist just fine, and even Morgan flinched at the words that came out of the Captain’s mouth.

“Captain,” Ann came across her ear. “Did you mean for that to go through? I see that you’ve muted your side.”

“No, but thank you, Ann.”

Reentering the line, she said smoothly, “This vessel will be underway, approval or not, and your lack of cooperation will be noted, Commander West. Thank you.”

Hanging up did not have the satisfaction of closing a phone, or slamming one down, but she could end the call immediately without regard for the consequences. Which she did.

Morgan let out a low whistle. “Trouble in paradise, Captain?”

“Just get ready for departure.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”