AN: 16 Advanced Chapter available on my Patreon! Crimson_Reapr is the name, and writing Scifi is the way.
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As soon as Mark boarded the Shepherd, he was greeted by Marcos' enigmatic voice as it rang throughout the ship. "Welcome Back, Captain. Your release was rather expedited thanks to my humble self."
Mark chuckled as the Cargo Bay doors sealed, "Yeah, key focus on humble... Thanks for doing what I asked."
"It was my highest of pleasures," the AI replied, shifting its accent to match a posh British accent. "Truly, I am but a loyal servant to your ineffable greatness."
Mark simply shook his head and chuckled as he started to make his way through the ship, "Never change, Marcos, never change."
Marcos' reply was almost immediate. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir. Anyway, I've been monitoring the station's communications, and the word travels fast. Apparently, you've already earned yourself the label of 'dangerous bastard with an unregistered ship.'"
"Good to know the PR department's on my side," Mark muttered dryly. He then made a turn and started heading in the direction of the bridge while talking with Marcos. "So, you learn anything interesting about the universe?"
"Well, apart from all the corruption that is clearly rampant throughout the IUC, I found something rather odd," Marcos replied. "Humanity's education system, just like its governing structures, is just another corporate-infested field."
Mark's eyebrows raised as he walked. His life in this universe had been very sheltered and military-centered, not being privy to the real world until he was able to lead his own small fleet of just a handful of ships. And even then, he was too focused on military-related topics to be able to spend time learning about all the fuck-ups of the IUC. "Really? Corruption is rampant throughout the government, and education is a corporate subsidy? Well, shit, the more you know, I guess."
He made his way up through the central lift, the smooth hum of the mag-rail rising beneath his feet as the ship's decks scrolled past on the HUD display inset into the wall. The elevator doors parted with a soft chime, revealing the corridor that led directly to the bridge.
The lights dimmed automatically as he walked through the corridor.
"Anything I should be aware of before takeoff?" Mark asked.
"Just the usual," Marcos replied. "Docking clamps still locked, power grid on standby, thrusters charged, reactor output stable. I took the liberty of running a complete diagnostic while you were... detained. Everything's pristine, as it should be."
Mark stepped into the bridge where the faint glow of the consoles greeted him. The rows of holo-displays and sensor graphs hovered in a half-circle around the Captain's chair. He slid into it, the seat automatically adjusting to his height and posture.
"All systems, except for weapons, are active," Marcos announced as the main displays came alive. The screens of the forward viewport brightened to show the interior of Docking Bay 12A.
Mark reached forward, his fingers brushing the holographic control surface. "Alright, Marcos. Disengage clamps and get ready to reroute auxiliary power to the main and control thrusters."
"Disengaging," Marcos said as a deep metallic thunk reverberated through the ship, a sound that indicated that the clamps had been released, and the Shepherd rose gently.
Mark's hands moved across the controls, guiding the ship out of the docking bay. The floodlights of the station glaring across the Shepherd's black hull before it emerged into the quiet void of open space.
"Alright, Captain, where are we headed?" Marcos asked.
Mark's eyes flicked to the navigation map. "We're going to be joining up with the IUC escort. Give us a chance to take a look at what company we're keeping while we wait for the transport to join us."
"Why are we doing that?" Marcos asked in a confused tone.
Mark gave himself a mental facepalm as he remembered he had never filled him in. "I thought that since you had hacked into the station's net, you would have also seen some admiral asking me to help escort them and telling me that they had some rewards for me."
"What do you think of me?" Marcos asked in an offended tone. "I'm not a creep; there's no reason for me to hack into the phone calls. I only hacked into the cameras to view what was going on around you."
"Well, now you know," Mark said as he controlled the ship to pivot smoothly, its maneuvering thrusters firing in precise microbursts. In the distance, the two escort corvettes hung in formation, their boxy silhouettes with hard-edged hulls painted in a blue and white pattern.
As Mark started to make a course directly for them, he received a comms request. Marcos brought it up on the holo-display.
"This is IUC Corvette Vigilant requesting ID verification," a female voice said. "Unidentified ship, please confirm your identity and purpose."
Mark accepted the transmission. "This is Mark Shephard, Captain of the Strathos' Shepherd. Admiral Ren Varis of the IUC Navy requested my assistance in escorting the transport back to your base."
The reply came with a touch of humor in the comm officer's tone. "So you're the guy who saved the Vanguard Horizon's crew. Alright then, guess we owe you a drink, Captain."
"I'll hold you to that," Mark said, a smile starting to tug at his lips.
"Roger that, Shepherd. If you would maintain your current position. The Macross will be joining the formation shortly."
Mark leaned back in his chair, stretching his shoulders as the comm channel closed.
Marcos' voice returned, this time with a lazy drawl. "Ah, the hero's welcome, minus the actual welcome part."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Mark replied as he set the ship into a holding pattern. It only took a few minutes for the Macross to make its way into view. It was a large, slab-sided transport with a utilitarian hull. The escort corvettes moved into position ahead of the transport, with Mark taking position behind it.
He keyed the intership channel and spoke. "Shepherd in position."
"Copy that," came Salazar's voice. "Glad to have you with us, Shephard. Let's get moving before this place finds another reason to keep us docked."
Mark smirked faintly. "Understood, I'm following behind you."
"We're setting course for jump point Delta-3," Salazar replied.
The convoy aligned their vectors, engines flaring one by one until the space between them shimmered with plasma wash.
"Marcos," Mark said, "open our reactor to seventy percent and keep jump capacitors spooling. I want them ready for when we have to sync with the Navy's jump drive."
"Aye aye, Captain," Marcos replied in a pirate accent. "Warming up the grid."
The deck rumbled faintly beneath Mark's boots as the Shepherd's power core shifted to higher output. Blue conduits lining the bridge flickered to life, their glow reflecting off the metallic interior.
"Course plotted," Marcos said. "ETA to jump gate: seven hours at current velocity."
The corvettes flanked the Macross as they started to accelerate and pull away from Mark. But, of course, these corvettes were nothing for the engines the Shepherd had, as it surged forward, catching up with ease as the faint vibration of the engines resonated through the hull.
The journey to the first jump was uneventful, and that was fine by Mark. The past few days had been more than enough for him, so quiet was good. During the transit, he brought up various sensor logs, checking each subsystem one by one while Marcos filled the silence with idle chatter.
"You know," the AI mused, "I find it interesting that the IUC still uses static jump coordinates. You'd think humanity would have made its way to developing a jump drive that didn't require them simply for the sake of convenience."
Mark took a sip from the flask on his armrest. "Yeah, well, I just guess they haven't had a reason to do it. It's not like we're still at war for these developments to be made."
"Wow, spoken like a true former soldier," Marcos said. "Come on, maggot, don't you dare question institutional inertia, humanity's greatest engine."
Mark chuckled under his breath, eyes focused on the time left until they reached the jump point ahead.
"Convoy Alpha-Nine," came the feminine voice from the Vigilant. "All ships, synchronize jump drives. Phase interval three seconds."
Marcos quickly started synchronization, and Mark confirmed. "Shepherd ready."
"Synchronization complete," Marcos reported. "All systems nominal and the jump capacitors are charged and ready to fire."
A low-frequency hum filled the bridge as the drive spooled up, resonating deep enough that he felt it in his bones, and the edges of the viewport shimmered as spatial distortion built around them.
"Three… two… one…"
The stars elongated into thin streaks of light, then vanished entirely.
"Transition stable," Marcos said. "Jump corridor is holding."
"How long is this going to take?" Mark asked.
"Eh, an estimated thirty-six minutes until re-entry at Delta-4," Marcos answered.
Mark raised his eyebrows. "Jesus, that's one hell of a jump. Please keep monitoring the field. I want early warnings if any turbulence starts bleeding through the hull sensors."
Marcos materialized beside Mark, giving him a mini heart attack. "Thir, yes, thir."
The minutes went by, and Marcos had taken it upon himself to fill the silence with soft classical music, something he'd picked up during his little incursion into Eidolon Reach's station.
When they emerged, the Shepherd shook briefly once, and then the stars snapped back into view. The system they had jumped to was sparse, with only a few asteroids and a small ice giant.
They jumped twice more over the next three days.
Each jump was preceded by the same procedure that had barely allowed Mark to sleep. He had been keeping himself too busy analyzing every little thing from the diagnostics, making system checks, and a few conversations with Marcos that teetered between banter and introspection.
"You ever think about what happens when we jump?" Marcos asked once. "I mean, really think about it. We're technically not moving through space. We're folding space around us."
Mark leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. "Yeah, learned all about it from Ani, though I try not to think about it. Gives me a headache."
Marcos hummed softly. "Understandable. I've done the math. It's worse than a headache."
Mark sighed deeply as he spoke. "Appreciate the reassurance."
"Anytime, Captain," Marcos said, pausing briefly. "You know I can just keep us on track; you don't need to be up the entire time. As a matter of fact, you're going to need the rest if you are going to be meeting with high-ranking Navy personnel."
"Yeah..." Mark said while yawning. "It's just a bad habit, I guess. I'll go knock out now, though. Drowsiness is really starting to hit me."
Mark went to his bed and fell asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.
Marcos kept everything up and running smoothly, only waking Mark on the third day when the convoy dropped out of the jump and into the system where the base was located. It had a blue-white star blazing in the distance, flanked by 2 inhabited worlds. The target planet hung ahead of them, a deep sapphire blue, streaked with storm bands and glinting oceans.
"Wakey, wakey. We've arrived at the Xendor system," Marcos announced. "Base B-147 is located on the second inhabited planet, and the base's station is orbiting the planet."
The Shepherd's cameras zoomed in on the station, turning it from a simple silver dot, gradually into a massive wheel-shaped structure with spokes leading into a central hub, and the IUC crest was emblazoned on its equatorial band. Its surface glittered with lights, and there were hundreds of ships docking, refueling, or in transit.
Mark adjusted the Shepherd's trajectory and keyed the local frequency. He heard Salazar's voice cutting through the silence, "IUC Base B-147 control, this is Alberto Salazar, Captain of the Transport vessel T-103 Macross. We are inbound in convoy Alpha-Nine with a guest in tow. Requesting docking clearance."
"Copy, Macross," came the response after a moment. "Your convoy is cleared for approach on vector four-one-two. Docking ring five, berth thirty-two to thirty-five."
"Understood," Salazar replied. "Approaching vector."
The Shepherd, along with the rest of the convoy, glided toward the massive structure. They all broke off to their adjacent berths, maintaining orderly spacing.
"Thrusters to maneuvering power," Mark ordered.
"Executing," Marcos replied.
The ship rotated gracefully, aligning with the docking ring as hydraulic arms extended from the berth, clamping onto the Shepherd's angular hull with precision. A low thud reverberated through the deck as the seals locked in place.
"Docking complete," Marcos announced.
Mark exhaled, standing from his chair. "Keep her in standby. Don't open comms unless it's me."
"Understood." Marcos paused. "And Captain?"
"Yeah?" Mark replied.
"Try not to get arrested again."
Mark gave a faint smirk as he walked out of the bridge. "No promises."
The station's interior was bright and almost clinical. Marines in gray-and-blue uniforms moved along the corridors, their footsteps echoing against composite floors. However, they were quickly drowned out by the cacophony of mechanical sounds and voices that rang throughout the massive corridors.
Mark was met by a young ensign, who saluted him sharply. "Captain Shephard, sir. Admiral Varis is expecting you. This way, please."
"Whoa, whoa, what's with the honorifics?" Mark asked. "I don't hold any ranking in the Navy."
The ensign tilted their head in confusion, but nodded. "I understand that, sir. But if you are being attended to by an admiral themselves, then you must be someone of importance, and therefore, worthy of salute. Plus, between you and me, better safe than sorry."
Mark nodded subtly. 'Yeah, guess I can't argue with that logic there,' he thought to himself.
They walked in silence through a series of lifts and pressure-sealed bulkheads until they reached a meeting room near the station's upper section. The door slid open smoothly, and inside, Admiral Ren Varis stood waiting by the viewport. He was tall and had graying hair at his temples. His uniform was immaculate, with the insignia of fleet command gleaming on his shoulder.
"Mark Shephard," Varis said without turning. His voice was deep. "I've been informed that you appear to have caused quite the ripple."
Mark stepped inside, the door sealing behind him. "That wasn't my intention, Admiral. But I'm not just going to let someone steal my ship, especially not after it took me so long to make it."
Varis finally turned, studying him. "Yes, I had a few days to read through the reports and watch the video. You clearly defended yourself. By the way, Captain Salazar has informed me that you had forgotten to pick up your K-series rifle from Eidolon Reach's security storage. He retrieved it for you, and it will be given to you before you leave. Ah, enough of that. You saved twenty-four of my men, well, women, after they had suffered a pirate attack and had been kidnapped to be sold off as sex slaves. For going out of your way to save Navy personnel, you will be rewarded handsomely."
Mark's brow lifted slightly. "Well, as I told you during the call, the rescue was accidental. But I did do it."
Varis gave a thin smile. "And as I remember telling you six days ago, take the compliment. You've done the Navy a favor, whether you meant to or not."
Mark said nothing, and Varis gestured to a chair by a table. "Sit."
Mark did as he was ordered, and the Admiral followed, folding his hands on the polished metal surface.
"I've done some digging," Varis said, "and I found a Captain with a name very similar to yours. Mark Shepherd, with an E. Yet your name is with an A."
Mark didn't react at all to the information that was revealed.
Varis stared at him and sighed. "But that's about the only similarities you two have. You two are clearly different people, after all, he was 5-foot-11, and you are definitely not 5-foot-11. You two also look nothing alike. But I'm getting sidetracked here. You're not Navy, and yet you operate like one. Your record before all this was non-existent, with only a bank account having been opened on February 21st, 2984, last year. So, to me, that means you have a rather unique set of skills... skills we could use."
Mark leaned back slightly, his expression neutral. "I won't confirm nor deny any of your curiosities, Admiral. But I'm not looking to enlist, if that's what this is about."
Varis nodded slowly. "I'm not offering for you to enlist. What I'm offering you is a compromise."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
Varis smiled. "Meaning that the magnificent ship you built utilizing a rarely seen method of building, with the angled armor, represents a capability we can't officially endorse, but we can tolerate under the right conditions. In exchange, you'll get a certain level of clearance, protection, and a more believable clean record."
Mark studied him for a long moment. "And what do you want in return?"
Varis met his gaze evenly. "Well, the occasional cooperation, going on missions where the Navy's crest can't be seen. Situations that require… plausible deniability."
Mark's eyes narrowed slightly. "So you want me to become a PMC."
Varis shrugged his words off. "Not a PMC, let's just say you're going to be... yeah, you're right, a PMC. But it beats mercenary work."
Silence hung between them, and outside the viewport, the planet turned slowly, its oceans catching the light of the distant sun.
Finally, Mark said, "I'll think about it."
Varis nodded once. "That's all I ask. In the meantime, your ship's been cleared for full resupply and maintenance. It's already been registered in the IUC's database as the Heavy Frigate, Strathos' Shepherd. Your other reward will be reflected in your bank account. You've earned it."
Mark nodded before standing up. "Thank you, Admiral."
Varis gave a faint smile as he stood up as well. "I wouldn't be thanking me yet, Captain."
Mark extended his hand, and the Admiral took it, shaking it. Mark then turned and walked toward the door.
As it slid shut behind him, Varis looked back out the viewport. "They say curiosity killed the cat, but you're one mystery I can't wait to unravel," he murmured.