Battleship Destroyer Read online

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  Hours later, Jack walked out of the auxiliary machinery space hatch and headed for the elevator wiping himself with a rag. Trying to get the last of the rinse water off after washing the shit off his air and water tight Jumpsuit. The Jumpsuit was required for landings and take offs and or when the ship was at emergency stations. It only needed him to pull the collapsible helmet folded into his collar around his neck, up over his head and down onto its caller seal and then stuff his hands into two special pockets for skin tight gloves to automatically seal with his cuffs, to keep him alive in vacuum in case of an emergency decompression in space. The fabric breathed moisture from his body under normal air pressure while being air and water proof as well as regulating his body’s temperature by either insulating, radiating or absorbing heat when it was needed.

  The permeable fabric also let carbon dioxide through, while retaining the larger oxygen atoms in a vacuum, allowing prolonged use in an emergency. As long as the wearer had access to oxygen, the CO’2 would escape through the fabric into the vacuum of space, keeping the wearer from dying of CO’2 poisoning. He had kept the jump suit on while doing the nasty job his brother had assigned him knowing it not only provided him the protection he needed but would be easy to clean off and sanitize afterwards with a quick shower. Jack hurried along the passageway toward the Quarterdeck and the elevator, thinking about The Game as he tapped his wrist comm to call his friend Tom and tell him he would be on The Game in a few minutes.

  "Just where the hell do you think you are going jerk?" Jack looked up at his brother Dan walking down the curved passageway from the Quarter deck area surrounding the elevators and gangplank, headed for him shaking his head in disgust. "Just stop right there shit head." His brother said holding out his hand palm out to stop Jack from getting far enough around the bend in the passageway to be seen by anyone on the Quarter deck while staying as far away from him as possible.

  Jack could hear his father's voice thanking yet another passenger for flying with the Turner Joy and giving such a generous tip, echoing down the passageway. "I just finished cleaning that plugged sewage separator you sent me to fix and I am going up to get a shower before dinner." He did not say anything about The Game knowing his brother would ridicule him about it and even possible make up a job for him to do just to keep him off of it. "Is that OK with you? First Officer Creep."

  A couple of familiar crewmen came down the passageway from the Auxiliary Engineering hatch and squeezed past Jack hugging the bulkhead to keep from touching him. "You stink, get out of the way shithead." Wrinkling up their noses. Then as they passed his brother one of them patted Dan on the back with a tissue in his hand as they met in the passageway. Leaving a brown colored streak of clumps of grease or something on the back of his bright white uniform. "Where's your gas mask Mr. Turner?" Chuckling. "No wonder you did not mind loosing that bet at cards last night. You're not the one that was going to do the work. I should have known better." Then started walking away. "As if you would actually do some work. I should have made you come up with something in addition to the job to cover my bet since you were not doing the work." Laughing as the guy dropped the tissue a ways down the passageway before they disappeared around the bend of the hull into the Quarter deck and elevator compartment. It should have been their job but now he knew why they had sat back laughing and making nasty rude remarks more than usual as he worked.

  "I could smell you half way down the passageway rodent" His brother turned back to face Jack." Since when do you wear a Jump suit while working dirt side moron." Looking him up and down. "Not to mention that your jump suit looks like you rolled in shit." Dan started laughing. "That is going to cost you another fine. I will decide how much later."

  Jack knew his jump suit was not dirty after scrubbing it clean in the decontamination shower. He would have had to do the same with a Hazmat suit before hanging it back up and wearing his jump suit saved him a good half hour changing before and after. The crewman that left a few seconds ahead of him had evidentially told his brother he was finished and getting ready to leave. But why his brother had to come running to catch him before he reached the Quarter deck was beyond him. Jack tried to ignore his brother but knew if he tried to push past him he would get decked. All he could do was wait for his brother to finish with whatever crap he had planned so he could leave. Knowing his brothers crap was never good.

  "Dad wants the port main engine's mass injectors cleaned and checked this weekend. It shouldn't take you more than 5 or six hours even if you have to weld up a few cracks or burns"

  "What? But? Oh Shit! Ya sure. But what happened to the spares I did at the beginning of the week?" It would not take long if all we have to do was change injectors.

  "They already used them to change out the burned ones on the Starboard engine for you to weld up tomorrow while you are at it."

  "But that will add hours to the job." Jack looked down at the deck. "Why didn’t you tell me yesterday when I had plenty of time to weld them?" Jack shook his head as he frowned. No his brother had him busy working on the damn air/oxygen conditioning system after class yesterday, but then he would have rather spent a little overtime then as they came into the system than now when he wanted to play with friends. The last thing he wanted to do was spend his Saturday welding and treating injectors. "Why can't the crew do it?" Jack whined.

  Shaking his head and looking up into the overhead, his brother could not believe he had to explain himself again. "It is legal moron if you do it since you are family. None of the crew are certified and sending the nozzles out to a certified machine shop costs a thousand credits a nozzle, not to mention the wasted time in port and the day it would take ,that we don't have."

  "Ya, I have heard it before. Since our family owns the ship we don't need to be certified as long as some family member has the certification and signs the job off as qualified." Jack said sarcastically. “Besides what happened to getting a couple of the crew certified. I thought Bowman and McCade got certified when we spent that week on Denim Prime a couple months ago. Certainly the paper work has caught up to us by now."

  Jack stared at his brother's face as his brother gave Jack the sorry pitiful look he always gave Jack for being too stupid to understand simple facts. "Why spend all that money when you can do such a fine job Jack." His brother said with a smile. "I decided to spend the money where it was needed more." His smile turned into a grin from ear to ear as he remembered the fun weekends he had spent the money on with some knockout girls in hotels on planets and stations they had visited recently. Now the money was spent, he no longer felt the need to lie to Jack just in case he would have wanted a few credits of it for himself. To keep his mouth shut.

  Realizing he had been lied to yet again, Jack shook his head resignedly. “At least it won't take that long with you helping." Jack hated the sloppy incomplete jobs his brother usually did (that Jack always had to go back to finish), while criticizing Jack’s work for even minor cosmetic flaws that mattered not. But while Dan was helping, the rest of the engine room crew always helped. Doing most everything including the prep on the nozzles, leaving the actual welding to Jack and his brother. Without his brother present, he would be stuck doing everything himself while most of the engine room crew stood around playing with themselves, making nasty comments about him that his brother would encourage when he showed up to check on him, which he did often.

  "Sorry bro but you need the practice more than I do. Besides, I have a party to go to tomorrow, too celebrate with that new girlfriend you introduced me to last week. What she saw in a moron like you I still don’t understand. Must have been pity."

  "Patsy?” The girl had dropped by to get Jack’s help on school work and they were getting along splendidly until his brother had suddenly showed up taking an interest in Jack that was typical any time Jack brought (or was around) any female back to the family cabins. Age did not matter. That always included his brother being extra nice to him while still managing to constantly put him down even while complementing him without actually saying anything nasty. Somehow, his brother always managed to push Jack out of the picture while flirting and touching the girl every chance he got. And somehow, the girl usually left giggling on his brother’s arm already half undressed. And the next time he would see the girl she would be putting cloths back on as she was leaving. Though sometimes it took a couple of days. Once in a while the girl would leave in disgust the second or third time his brother would touch her as he flirted in spite of Jacks futile attempts to stop or get rid of his brother when he saw that his advances where not appreciated. But they always finally left his brother's company in disgust or badly hurt after they had spent a few days or weeks doing what Jack did not want to think about.

  The biggest problem was that his brother always got the girl and Jack always got the shit. Few girls would ever talk to him after his brother got done with them, even though he had tried to warn them. He finally just stopped talking to girls any more than he had to. His opinion of most girls for quite a while now, was not very high or trusting. “Ya that figures. Celebrating what?"

  "You just don't worry your stupid little brain about it." Dan sniffed the air and gave Jack a nasty look. "Dad gave me a whole list of things that needs to be done that will keep you busy most of the weekend. Now go the back way. I don't want the passenger's or Dad seeing or smelling you as he thanks them for flying with us. We have already gotten some 20,000 credits in tips this trip due mostly to the fact that none of them got space sick during the landing thanks to my piloting. Something they are saying is not very common with the jet stream usually right over the port and knocking ships around. Now go around the backside and strip that Jumpsuit off and stuff it in a bag before you use the chain lift so you don't contaminate half the ship. Besides you are not supposed to be wearing it now anyway. You're lucky I don't fine you for that too. Just get it off before I do.” Turning to look around the curve of the passageway toward the Quarter deck and frowning as he sniffed the air again. “Go; before dad or a passenger sees or smells you turd.” Then turning back and smiling. “Just to show you how nice and loving I am. You can get a late start tomorrow at say 0900. I did such a nice job landing and with all the other good news today, I will let you sleep in an extra hour."

  Jack frowned as he started to steam. "Ya. I didn't have to compensate on the gravity board; MUCH!" He said to his brother's retreating back as he spotted the streak of clumps and smiled. Raising his voice. "Hey! You have aa." His brother continued to walk away raising his middle finger in a wave. "At least assign someone to help me, damn it!"

  His brother stopped and turned around before disappearing around the bend, looking at him. "Sure Jack. Go ask anyone you want to help you. You’re a big boy now. You are 18."

  Jack's face lit up with hope. "You mean it. I can ask the Engine room crew for help?"

  Walking back toward Jack. "Sure bro. Just wait for me to get there in the morning so I can watch them tell you to eat shit and screw yourself." Walking back down the passageway, Dan's face turned stern as he pointed at Jack. "Get it through your stupid little fracking head dipshit. You don't tell anyone to do anything ever on this ship puke face. That is my job. Hell it is everyone’s job but yours." Dan started laughing and walked away. "Oh. That is a good one. Eat shit puke face. Ho, Ho, Ho. The little baby moron wants help. To fracking bad."

  Jack turned around and headed away from the Quarter deck and the elevators to make the long slow way back up the ship. Stripping off his Jumpsuit, pulling it off inside out using standard Hazmat protocols without thinking about it. Fuming, he grabbed a trash bag to stick it in and headed down the passageway past the Port Engine room hatch. A crewman walked out of the hatch and started laughing when she saw Jack half naked in his shorts. Feeling like crawling into a hole he made a run for the chain in his shorts trying to hide his private's bulge, bag flopping around in front of him, tears threatening his sight as he clumsily bounced off a hatch combing.

  The slow rattling chain lift, with small man sized moving platforms every 8 feet along a cable running in a track on the bulkhead, ran continuously up and down the length of the ship. From the engineering decks up past the cargo hold decks to the crew decks, around a big wheel and then back down again. The chain of platforms provided a steady, reliable and cheap mass transit system for the crew in gravity or weightless free fall emergencies, since it ran on only a few amps and could run for days on a small battery charge. Standing on the little platform leaning against the rail, he clutched the bag in his hands across his front as he passed deck after deck. Embarrassment flooding through him as he prayed no one else would see him before he made it to his cabin. But the chain did not care and gave Jack plenty of time to be seen by a steady flow of people using the chain and to think of getting even with his ass-hole brother.

  Though by the time he reached his families deck at the bow, he refused to think of his brother in those terms any longer, no matter how mad he had gotten at him. After all, the ass hole was his brother and in time Jack always forgave him. Blaming himself for everything. After all, he was the moron in a family of geniuses. Just ask them.

  2-

  BATTLESHIP DESTROYER.

  Jack walked out of the shower into his cabin with a towel wrapped around his waist. A light was flashing on his game screen as he tossed the towel across his bed and slipped clean shorts on. Stepping up to the little cabinet in the corner of his cabin where another bunk used to be, he slid his game video helmet on, tightened it down snug then tapped a key on the control box hanging on the side frame and then the side of the helmet.

  He was suddenly standing next to a Battle-destroyer's Command Chair wearing a navy Captain's uniform. Another Captain giving orders sat in the Command Chair at the moment that looked like his avatar. Wishing again that the damn game had picked an avatar that at least looked a little like him instead of the grizzly old man it had stuck him with after the last time he had quit the game letting himself get permed instead of even trying to make it to a life boat a couple of years before. Though if anyone looked close, Jack’s Avatar looked just like him with a few years of wear.

  Turning, he surveyed the Destroyers Bridge and the crew, shaking his head as he frowned. The fact that he was already on the bridge meant that over half his crew was already there in real life and the mission had already started without him. But what mission? Tapping the side of his leg without thinking, the cubical grew a chair and he sat down in the virtual bridge's Command Chair taking the place of the game controlled Avatar without the rest of the crew even knowing he was there. He started going over the mission and ship stats even though his whole body simply wanted to get into the game. He knew his avatar could handle the ship for the whole mission of he let it. But then it could lose him his whole squadron if he let it. While it would follow his preplanned orders for basic maneuvers, it would follow the attack orders of whoever was in command of the fleet on the mission. Even if it was suicide orders to charge down the throats of the enemy fleet. Or worse, form a shield between the main fleet and the enemy fleet which had happened more than once. His only consolation was that unless he was in command, his entire fleet could get wiped out and he would still have his fleet in tact the next time he checked in. That included all his crewmen on all his ships, if they even tried to make it to a life boat before the ship was listed as a hulk or destroyed.

  What he had to figure out right off the bat was what the mission was and if his little squadron stood a chance before committing himself to the battle. Looking at the tactical screen he read the mission profile and shook his head again. Disappointed that is was not a Pirate hunt and destroy mission. An enemy fleet was approaching the Star System and the fleet he was a part of, was deploying to defend the system. Not a mission that he would have accepted simply because it was, BORRING, but he had not been there because of his brother and the septic valve cleaning job, to add his vote. Worse yet, he only had 2 of his squadron's ships with him. Since he had not been there either to manually launch the ones that did not have a large enough real crew mustered yet to join on their own.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out with a grimace, he reached over and tapped the comm to invite the rest of his Destroyer squadron to join him even though it would take several hour's game time for them to catch up. Committing himself to the battle as his game avatar started moving only when he moved or talked. He noticed that several of his destroyers had already left the Starbase after acquiring large enough crews to deploy on their own and would straggle into formation over the next half hour, well ahead of the rest.

  Looking around the bridge he studied the bridge officers trying to decide which ones were real and which ones were animated by the A.I. It made a difference in who he called to do what when things started getting hectic. The A.I. controlled crewmen did OK for normal routines but the real flesh and blood controlled officers and crewmen where just a little faster and better at most jobs and in battle. Able to follow the meaning of the orders through the changing situations not just the specific orders. A deliberate handicap that had taken him years to realize and use to his advantage. Though it forced him to get to know and interact with his real live crew in order to win battles instead of slinking away badly damaged because some A.I. crewman or officer could not hit a moon with his weapon or made a stupid mistake because of the role of the dice or took forever to decide to push a button to fire the ship's weapons or change the ship's course even when ordered or make the proper repairs when needed and in time to keep the ship fighting. Not that a real crewman could not screw up but as long as he treated them well and proper and saw to their training needs as he had been trained to do by the game for over a decade, he found it hard to loose unless he really screwed up tactically now that he had the right equipment and knew how to handle the crew.