Captain Mingana, her officers, Observer Helm, and Rasellin gathered in the ship's executive lounge to celebrate Liberation Day.
Mingana could think of a dozen places she would rather have been, but opting out of a Lib Day affair was no option at all. Circular windows surrounded the fairly spacious lounge, offering a grandiose view of a star sprinkled void. The Horseman traveled three times the speed of light. A mass inhibitor field surrounded the ship maintaining its structural integrity. Soft jazz playing in the lounge intermingled with conversation and laughter. Food and drinks sat atop white, round lounge tables.
“Captain.”
Mingana snapped out of her thoughts and looked up to see Povich holding two cups of ice tea. He handed a cup to her and the captain accepted with a gracious smile. “Thank you, Arie.”
“Enjoying the party?” Povich asked.
The captain rolled her eyes and took a sip from her cup. “Bored to tears.” She spotted Helm heading toward her and gritted her teeth. She supposed it was unrealistic for both of them to share the same space without coming into contact with each other.
Povich saw the observer and cleared his throat. “By your leave, Captain, I should be going back to the bridge.”
“You don't have to go. I'm sure Lt. Jasper has things well in hand. How many times has he covered the bridge?”
“Three,” said Povich. “But...well...”
“Mingana decided to be merciful. “Go.”
Povich leaned close, grateful. “If you were not my captain, I would marry you.”
“I'll hold you to that,” Mingana said in amusement.
Povich brushed past the observer toward the lounge exit.
“Captain, your presence on this special occasion is much appreciated by myself and your crew,” said Helm. “However...” He cut a surreptitious eye toward the alien dignitary. “You neglect our guest.”
Mingana glanced at Duke Rassellin as he stood rigid and silent, flanked by his armored bodyguards. “Our guest doesn't appear to be interested in mingling. I'm simply respecting his space.”
Helm gazed earnestly at the captain. “The Duke and the Consortium freed us from Calaar tyranny. Thanks to their efforts, Earth is back in human hands. I think we owe the Duke more than distance. Don't you?”
Earth had always been in human hands, Mingana thought irately, suppressing a flareup of anger.
Helm, up to this point, had not given her any orders. He seemed content to let her run her ship as she saw fit. But in this matter, Mingana knew a veiled order when she heard one. She considered disregarding it, but thought it best not to push her insubordinate attitude any further than it already was.
“I suppose the Duke could use some company.”
***
After receiving her aerospace engineering degree, Justine enrolled in one of the space-farer academies. Established by the Calaar to prepare humanity for the stars, space-farer academies existed on every continent but Antarctica. The course offerings at the African branch of the academy dazzled Justine: Xeno Sudies, Warp Transit Dynamics, Propulsion Engineering, Star Mapping, History of Sentient Relations, Trans-Dimensional coding, the list went on.
The academy also offered military training, which was of particular interest to Justine. Although she never pictured herself a soldier, she saw an opportunity to actively demonstrate her gratitude to the Calaar for all they were doing for her...for Earth. The Calaar were involved in a conflict elsewhere in the galaxy. They never specified, but Justine was certain that any enemy of the Calaar could only be a threat to Earth. She was prepared to lay down her life to defend against any foe that threatened to return humanity back to the miserable state it was mired in before the Calaar's arrival.
She let the idea percolate in her head. When she made her decision, her parents balked. They tried to dissuade her, but their efforts collided against the impenetrable bulwark of their daughter's stubborn determination. Justine was a woman now. For good or ill, she chose her own path.
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