Chapter Five
Oden loitered in the large room where the crew slept. He made his bed with extra care, styled his Mohawk as slowly as he could, and debated over his limited wardrobe. Even with his purposeful dallying, the other men seemed equally slow in leaving for breakfast.
“You coming, Oden?” Calen called from the tail of the mob.
“Yeah. I’ll be right there,” Oden said over his shoulder.
Calen left with the others, their loud voices fading as they descended the steps and disappeared into the mess hall.
The night before the conversation had settled on one topic, and one topic only: Bit, their new crewmate. It seemed nearly every young man on the crew had an opinion on her presence on the ship, ranging from “What do we need a girl for?” to “Can’t wait to get me a piece of that”.
Oden had mostly kept his thoughts to himself. Not so much as to be noticeable, but he wouldn’t admit to what he had observed in their new crewmate. If they couldn’t see the truth in her, they didn’t deserve to know her.
He loitered beside his bed, waiting for another full five minutes before carefully opening the door to the barracks. Just as he had expected, Bit was just peeking her head through her own doorway.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
As he had expected, she gave a little start and eyed him cautiously.
“Hungry?” he asked.
She hadn’t appeared in the mess hall for dinner, and the captain had insisted they leave her alone. He knew she must be starving, but he suspected she was sadly accustomed to the sensation.
Finally, she nodded.
“We missed you at dinner last night,” he said as he motioned for her to lead the way to the stairs, wanting to make sure she knew that they ate two full meals a day, with snacks out at midday, and that she was welcome at them all.
Bit didn’t respond, and he didn’t push.
“We need to get you more clothing. Maybe even something designed for a woman.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder and he threw her a wink to make sure she knew he was trying to tease her a little. Once again, Bit didn’t respond. Instead, she came to a stop in the doorway of the mess hall, staring at the mass of bodies as though she had forgotten how many souls there were on board. Counting her and the new security team designed to protect against pirates, the ship carried sixteen humans.
Jack looked up at them and smiled as though he knew and appreciated Oden’s tactics. With a smile, he nodded to the empty seats at his table.
Unlike larger freighters, the officers ate with the crew. They were all one big happy family. Oden tried to ignore the sarcasm in his own thoughts.
“Shall we sit with Jack?” he asked, ignoring the hopeful glances of the other men.
“Sure,” she whispered.
“Let’s get some grub first.”
He showed her the ropes. She put a little dab of food on her plate, leaving it mostly empty. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he plopped two extra sausage links onto her plate. She looked up at him, shock apparent on her pale features.
Oden gave her his best innocent face. “What?”
He thought he saw the beginnings of a smile, but the look faded quickly. Oden grabbed both of them a juice pouch and led them back to Jack’s table.
“Morning, Cap,” he said as he sat down beside the captain, leaving Bit the seat at the end.
It left her open to be bothered by the others, but he didn’t want to look like he was arranging things. He had already received a glare or two from his crewmates. Oden smiled back at them, enjoying their annoyance. No doubt tomorrow they would all try to be the last person out of the barracks in the hopes of catching her on the way to the mess hall. He would need to warn her ahead of time.
“Oden. Bit. Sleep well?” Jack asked, talking around Oden.
“Yes, sir,” she said softly.
Jack nodded once. “You relieving Calen?” he asked Oden.
“Yeah. After I scarf this down,” he said, motioning toward his full plate with his fork.
With each journey, Calen and Oden made a coin toss for day shift and night shift. This trip, Oden had been the lucky man. He glanced at Bit and thanked whatever gods there might be for his good fortune.
He took a few bites, watching Bit nibble on her food out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, Cap, mind if I show Bit the bridge? If you want, of course,” he added to her before she could think he was planning her day.
Jack shrugged. “If she wants.”
Oden looked at her, giving her his full attention for the first time in a few minutes. His gaze didn’t seem to unnerve her as much now. This time she smiled at him and nodded.
“Great. Eat up!”
A few minutes later they had both finished. He took her plate and dumped them in the dirty-dish bucket before guiding her out of the mess hall. While a few men had already moved to their posts for the day, he received a chorus of boos as he guided her out.
Oden didn’t often bring out his angry side, now that he was out of school and away from the bullies. This time, though, he turned and glared at them until they quieted, but the damage was already done. He glanced at Jack, who was staring at Bit’s back, his expression lined with concern.
He turned back and urged her forward. Oden watched her shaking hand take hold of the railing as she reached the steep staircase. He wanted to tell her that their ruckus had been directed at him, not her, but he thought it would do more damage than good. After all, if he said they were upset with him, he would have to explain why. He didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing most of the crew wanted to “win her favor,” or worse.
They reached the living level and he nudged her toward the next set of stairs. She continued upward, stopping at the point where the steps split in two different directions. Oden took the lead and headed up the right set of stairs. The steps let out on a catwalk nearly opposite of the door to the bridge.
Oden walked in, leaving her to enter at her own pace, and crossed to where Calen sat. He gave his friend a smack on the back.
“All good?” he asked, eying the controls.
“Nothing to report,” Calen said as he turned in the swivel seat. “Hey! Bit. Good morning. Had breakfast yet?”
She nodded timidly from the doorway.
“Just my luck,” chuckled Calen. “Then you’ll eat dinner with me.”
“You could at least ask the gal,” Oden said, rolling his eyes. He winked at Bit again.
“Too true. Bit, will you please eat dinner with me tonight?”
She nodded again.
“Excellent. I’m off to get some sleep. Don’t let this ol’ hooligan make you stay up here all day. Explore the ship. I would say find something fun to do, but I doubt you’ll find that on a freighter.”
Calen patted her on the shoulder in a perfectly platonic fashion as he scooted past her. All the same, she flinched.
Oden took his seat and gave the controls a more involved examination. He adjusted a few things—Calen and he had different opinions on a few aspects of flying—and turned to keep one eye on the controls and one eye on Bit.
She had barely moved one step into the bridge, her eyes fixed on the large duroglass windows. There really wasn’t much to look at. They were lightyears away from anything interesting. Then again, living in a city as big as Johannesburg, she probably had never seen the stars before.
“Pretty, ain’t it,” he said as he fiddled with the buttons and nobs to keep from staring at her.
“I… I never thought space could be so beautiful.”
Oden smiled. This was the first he’d really heard her speak, and now he wanted to hear more.
“Didn’t see many stars from Johannesburg?”
She shook her head.
“Ever live anywhere else?”
She shook her head again, her eyes still glued to the view.
Before Oden could ask anything else, a screen beeped a
t him. He glanced down, watching a blip move a space closer to the center. Without letting his gaze leave the screen, he reached for the communicator, flipped it to the right channel, and spoke into the hand-held device.
“Captain to the bridge,” he said in a calm tone; no one else needed to know there might be an issue.
His words had caught Bit’s attention.
“Wanna see?” he asked, waving to the swath of buttons and nobs that wrapped halfway around his swivel chair.
She walked across the bridge, her bare feet making soft pitter-patter noises on the metal plating, and glanced over her shoulder as if she thought she might get caught. Oden scooted to the far edge of his seat to give her more space.
“Why did you call the captain?” she asked.
Before he could explain the issue, Jack marched it.
“Report,” he said, barely taking notice of Bit standing beside his pilot.
“One frigate to the starboard,” Oden announced.
“Distance?”
“Nine miles, sir.”
Jack moved to Oden’s side while Bit scurried to the corner of the room. Oden wanted to suggest she leave. She didn’t need to see their stress if the nearing vessel really was a pirate ship, and yet he knew sending her away would only hurt their delicate friendship. Besides, it wasn’t his call to send her away. That was up to the captain.
Jack reached over Oden’s shoulders and grabbed the communicator. “XO to the bridge.”
Oden cringed. By now the entire crew would know something was up.
Jack flipped a switch, changing the communicator to a different channel. “Dirk?”
“Yeah, Cap,” came Dirk’s voice through the communications system.
“Where we at?”
“Ninety percent.”
“Bring us up to ninety-five.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Oden, ten degrees to the starboard. Let’s see if he follows.”
“Ten degrees starboard, aye sir.”
Oden flipped the freighter’s autopilot off, took hold of the two joysticks and adjusted the direction of the ship according to the captain’s orders, his eyes never leaving the control.
“Captain?” called David, the ship’s XO, as he came into the bridge.
“We’ve got a frigate to the starboard.”
“Eight miles, sir,” announced Oden.
“They following?” asked Jack.
“Seems so,” said Oden, glancing at the next screen to check their angle on the z-axis. “Yes. They followed.”
“Dirk. Bring us up to one hundred percent,” Jack called into the communicator.
Oden felt the rumble of the ship as the engines increased their speed. Technically they could push the engines up to a hundred and ten percent, maybe even a hundred and twenty percent, but it would cost fuel and risk damage. They couldn’t get away from the pirates if they were dead in the water—so to speak.
He wanted to glance at the captain, but he knew he needed to stay focused on the myriad of screens in front of him. It was not his job to decide if they needed to call their gunner to his post.
Oden also wanted to check on Bit. No doubt she was frightened. Hell, he was frightened. But worrying about her wouldn’t do either of them any good.
Jack flipped the channel on the communicator to reach the entire ship and spoke, “All crew to your stations. All crew to your stations.”
“Seven miles,” Oden announced.
From their place in the bridge, they heard the metallic clang of the crew clambering up and down the stairs to reach their stations. In record time, Randal appeared on the bridge.
“Want my men in the skiffs?” Randal asked.
“Yes.”
Randal crossed to another communicator, flipped it to a private channel, and spoke, “Isaac, Reese, Nathyn to the skiffs. Blaine to the cannon.”
In truth, the security team was probably already making their way to their stations, but it never hurt to remind them, especially when they were new. Oden shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the ship he was flying. It was one thing to be capable of flying the tiny skiffs used to protect the freighter, it was an entirely different thing to maneuver the enormous freighter within the restraints of a battle while simultaneously not destroying their cargo. The security team had taken a short, six-month course to allow them to fly the skiffs, whereas Oden had undergone years of training.
Within minutes, the entire crew reported ready.
“Six miles.”
“Keep us steady,” ordered Jack. “Can we get visuals?”
“Not yet, sir. If they keep gaining on us…”
And they waited. It was painful to watch the seconds tick by. Finally, the dot moved another space towards the center of his screen.
“Five miles.” Oden punched a few buttons, bringing up a blurry image of the ship creeping up on them.
Even without the details—which would come into focus as it drew nearer—they could tell it was a small ship, with only two turrets on its sides.
“Dispatch the skiffs,” ordered Jack.
“Release on my mark,” said Randal into his communicator. “In three, two, one. Release.”