Free Black Box by Ivan Turner Page B

absently on the table in front of
him, considering his options. It seemed obvious, what his officers
would say. Ghost attacks were random and unpredictable. This one
had nothing to do with the assignment itself. It seemed unlikely
that Ghosts were involved in the massacre of Walker and his crew.
This was no reason to abort the mission.
    And yet, something nagged at him. Beckett
was an experienced captain. He’d successfully relied on his sense
of a situation before and his gut was now telling him that the Valor was ill equipped to handle this job. It was supposed
to be a historical mission, a gathering of the past. But they had
seen combat. Call it a bad omen.
    Lawrence Rollins entered through the back
door, as they all should. Only William Boone would be coming from
the Control Room so only William Boone should enter by Beckett.
Rollins was a quiet man. He’d been in the Space Force for thirty
two years, ever since he was nineteen years old. According to his
record, during his second year of college, his parents had both
been killed in a traffic accident. The blow to his psyche had been
irreversible and his aunt, his only surviving relative, had pushed
him into the Space Force as a way of straightening him out. Leaving
school and academics behind, Rollins’ mind had reconstructed itself
to understand and apply only mathematical and problem solving
concepts. He had made computers do things of which their designers
could never even dream. And yet, he could not form personal
relationships, nor was he able to act on a feeling. Four years
before, he had inexplicably asked to be transferred to the Valor under the command of Ted Beckett. He’d phrased it just
like that in his request. “I would like to be transferred to the
UES Valor under the command of Ted Beckett.” The two had
never met prior, but Beckett was short a Computer Operations
Officer so there was no objection. In those four years, the two had
never had a conversation that did not revolve around professional
subject matter. Beckett knew as much about Rollins now as he had
then and that was just fine with him. Sometimes, pure competence
was just what he needed.
    On Rollins’ heels came Samantha Cabrera, his
Medical Officer. On his last trip out, she had been his lieutenant,
and a damned good one at that no matter what other people thought.
When Paul Royce had gone on to the Noble , Cabrera had been
made a command officer. She was a little immature and not too
professional. In spite of, or perhaps because of their brief
encounter at the end of their last mission, Beckett would have been
very relieved to have seen her transferred off ship. But the Admiralty , he realized, had wanted to make room for Tedesco,
and moving Royce had been easier since the Noble’s MO had
died of cancer a couple of months prior.
    The two sat apart, Rollins choosing the seat
on Beckett’s right. It was the seat furthest from the door and,
therefore, the most logical choice. If he had chosen any other
seat, others would have had to climb over him. Cabrera, on the
other hand, sat two seats away from Beckett, right next to the door
that led out to the Control hatchway.
    The three sat in silence for sixty
seconds.
    Next came the two new officers, Sam Ukpere
of Science and Humphrey Applegate of Records. Physically, the two
were polar opposites. Ukpere was tall, at least six foot seven, and
thin as a rail. His features were classically African and his skin
was so dark that his contrast with the pale Applegate was almost
blinding. Applegate, for his part, was a large and sweaty man. He
carried around a handkerchief that he repeatedly daubed against his
forehead, but into which he would never blow his nose. That would
be disgusting. The rumor was that he showered at least once between
each shift he was not working and anyone who knew him could attest
to the fact that the man always smelled of soap and aftershave.
Ukpere also wore large round glasses which made his eyes look
gigantic whereas