Exceeding Expectations: Firesetter, #4

Chapter 1

Sandy picked up her kit and headed to her assigned cabin on Deck 12.  The Starship Discovery was her first choice for a posting, as the ship’s reputation was the best in the fleet.  SpaceForce’s premier officers served aboard, and only the top Academy graduates were accepted for her crew. 

Without a doubt, Sandy was one of them, and her grades at the SpaceForce Academy reflected that.  Sandy’s college roommate, Brenda was selected, too.  This surprised everyone but Sandy, as she knew her friend had brains and common sense, despite hiding her intelligence behind a ditzy demeanor. 

Kyle didn’t make it though.  His ticket named the Asteroid, the starship commanded by none other than Sandy’s mother, Captain Jill.

Oh, sucks! Sandy declared, when Kyle met her in the campus coffee shop.  The last person I’d want to report to is my mother.

That last person I want to report to is your mother, Kyle had grumbled.  But, I’m stuck.  Are you sure you don’t want to switch off the Discovery and be with me?  You could protect me from her.

Nobody can protect you from the wrath of Captain Dragon Lady, Sandy had joked, while pretending this was a consideration. 

Jill had asked Sandy to join her crew, but not even for Kyle’s sake was Sandy willing to come aboard.

No, Mom, Sandy had said then.  No, Kyle, she said now.  Despite the fact that she and Kyle had been a thing for almost three years, Sandy was ready to make a break away from him.

We could share a cabin, he had offered, trying to keep the humor in his voice, although Sandy could see the emotion in his deep blue eyes.  His hair was almost the same color, sort of a cross between a cerulean and teal, inherited from some ancestor who wasn’t entirely human.  You wouldn’t get stuck rooming with Brenda again, or anybody else for that matter.  You know I’d be a better roommate because of the benefits.  He winked, and nudged her in the ribs, wrapping an arm around her waist, and threatening to kiss her in the ear, something she always hated. 

Normally, Sandy would have played along.  Normally, she would have turned her face to him, to catch his lips instead.  They would have engaged in a bit of necking, and maybe a little touching here or there.  Before it got too hot and heavy, Sandy would have made an excuse about needing to study, or jumped up to head to class. 

Now, she didn’t.  She just finished her coffee and smiled apologetically.

I like Brenda.  We’re good friends.  I’m excited to room with her again, especially now that we don’t have to spend every night studying.

You know that’s not what I meant.  We could...  Kyle’s voice took on a pleading tone.  Don’t you think it’s time that you and I...

Not now, Kyle.  Sandy cut him off quickly, rising to her feet and throwing her cup in the recycle bin.  I’ll talk to you later.  I’m supposed to pick up my new uniform.

Sandy?

Feeling guilty for her abruptness, Sandy bent down and kissed his cheek.  Later, Kyle.  Really, I’m supposed to be there now.

As she walked away, Sandy considered how different everything felt now.  While heading to the storerooms in the adjoining building, she thought about graduation, about time passing in the same way as she traveled through these pressurized tubes.  Time moved forward.  All of them were moving forward, graduating, and going their separate ways as commissioned officers in the Allied SpaceForce.  It was time to grow up.  It was time to become an adult.

Although, Sandy liked Kyle well enough, it wasn’t enough to commit to forever.  They had fun.  They were friends, but that was it.  She didn’t love him, at least not in a head over heels, wedding ring, and a happily ever after kind of way.  She never loved anyone like that, except for...well...Amyr.

That was a long time ago.  Amyr was ancient history as far as Sandy was concerned.  Furthermore, it was time to focus on her job.  She was an ensign, on her way to becoming a captain.  After all, she had a reputation to uphold.  She was the daughter of both Captain Jill of the S/S Asteroid, and Captain Lance, Fleet Commander of SdK Transport and Cargo Services.  Sandy was determined to achieve as much, if not more than her parents had done, and that was pretty tall order, which would require her complete focus and dedication.

Both of Sandy’s parents were supportive, although Jill’s encouragement came with a litany of complaints about SpaceForce Command and all the politics involved.  Lance, also, urged Sandy on, with the caveat that his employer, SdK Transport Services would be waiting in the proverbial wings, and the newest version of the Flying Mule could become her own command.

No thanks, Dad, Sandy had said, relieved that the first Flying Mule had been retired, and Lance was now working a desk job on Spacebase 41-d. 

The rigors of constant space travel had caught up with Lance.  During Sandy’s first year at the Academy, her dad had suffered a minor heart attack, which ultimately became the final straw that had broken the Mule captain’s back.  Lance was fortunate his employer was expanding at a rapid pace, acquiring ships and trading routes at a breakneck speed.  A desk job was just what he needed, as he wasn’t ready to call it quits, or abandon outer space.

So my boss rang and asked if Fleet Commander was a job I’d be willing to do.  Lance had told Sandy this, while lying in a hospital bed at Spacebase Earth Moon.  He had been hooked up to a bunch of machines, and was eating Jello.  "I can’t refuse a promotion, even if it means I’d have to settle down on an orbiting rock.  So, I said, ‘Of course, Korneal.  When do I start?’"

It’s the right thing to do, Sandy had replied.  You’ll have a lot less stress.

I don’t know about that.  Lance had shrugged, putting down his spoon.  In any case, it’s done, and when you’re ready to quit the Force, I’ll have a ship just for you.  In the meantime, do you want to eat this shit?

Not thanks, Dad, on both counts.  I’m dedicating my life to SpaceForce, and you know I hate Jello, especially the green kind.

Right, princess.  When you decide the Force isn’t worth wasting your life, you’ll know where to find me.  Listen to this, the doctor says I need to lose weight.  She doesn’t understand that I’m perfectly happy being fat.  That’s the circle of life, sweetheart.  We all start out fat and ugly, somehow manage to become thin and beautiful for a while, and end up fat and ugly again.  I’m okay with that.  I’m happy with myself.  What do you think?

I think you should listen to your doctor, Dad.  Sandy kissed his cheek, while wondering what sort of drugs Lance was on. 

Afterwards, Sandy hurried back to school to make up the midterm she had missed, promising to call Lance more often than the current schedule of once a week.

All of the Flying Mule’s former crewman were now working for SdK, most of them in command of their own freightplanes.  Wen was at the helm of the Flying Ox.  Noodnick and Beav were on the Flying Packrat, while Taul and Jerry flew the Flying Donkey.  As for Amyr, Sandy had no clue where he was. 

She assumed that he had been fired after the disaster with the transport plane.  Or, maybe, SdK Intergalactic Corporation had no tolerance for arrogant, cocky bilge cleaners.  In any case, Sandy didn’t care, or at least she told herself that, although she knew in her gut, it wasn’t really true.

Amyr was cocky and arrogant.  He was also beautiful, and sometimes surprisingly cold.  Despite this, he remained in her heart like a pot on slow boil.  The lid was clamped down tightly, but it still simmered, and occasionally a bit of steam to escape.  When that happened, Sandy took to her bed pretending to everyone, but mostly herself, that she was suffering from the flu.

Sometimes, inadvertently, when Sandy was with Kyle, she found herself comparing the two guys.  Sometimes, she found herself annoyed when Kyle did a stupid thing, like when he failed the astrophysics exam, a test which Sandy had aced.  They had studied together, but somehow, when the test came up on the screen, Kyle choked and couldn’t remember the calculations. 

Amyr would never have done that.  Amyr would have gotten a perfect score.  Amyr knew everything there was to know, and more, and never hesitated to remind Sandy of that.  It was too bad he didn’t seem interested in doing anything to better his life.  It was a tragedy that he was content to clean bilges and screw around.  And, it was also too bad that he hadn’t called Sandy, texted, or even spoken inside her head during the four years that she had been away at school.

Sometimes, though, she would hold that coin, Lance’s ancient Imperial dollar, that she wore on a chain over her heart.  Sandy would look at the Great Emperor’s face, and Amyr would always come to mind. 

She had kept those chess pieces too, the fancy marble black king and white queen from that set they used to play on together.  Sandy had kept them on a shelf in her dorm room, and now they were on her bureau top in her cabin on the Discovery.

They look like garage sale trinkets, Brenda had scoffed.

I don’t think so, Sandy had replied, holding the warm marble in her hand.  There’s a history to them.  I just can’t remember what it is.

Sandy’s first job on the S/S Discovery was in the storerooms managing the food supplies and other stock.  This was a huge disappointment, as she had been hoping for a position in navigation and piloting on the bridge.

No ensign ever gets that good a slot, her boss, a Cyganian Lieutenant said.  You’ve first got to prove yourself in all of the worst assignments.  To get on the bridge, your ratings have to be the best.  Our First Officer, the Commander, is a total perfectionist, and completely intolerant of mistakes.  You screw up, you’ll find yourself sentenced to cleaning the bilge.

Okay, Sandy nodded, What about the Captain?  What kind of guy is he?

The Lieutenant shrugged.  He’s nice enough, but between you and me, he’s ready to retire, and move back to Earth.  He’s got some property there, some cabin in the middle of the forest.  Captain Baywood likes large trees, he always says.  You can’t find any large trees in space.

Sandy was unpacking a carton of office supplies, staplers, blue ball point pens, and yellow sticky notes because the Discovery’s budget couldn’t afford electronic tablets for all the crew.

The Captain leaves the operation of the ship to the Commander, the Lieutenant continued.  If you want to impress someone, the Commander is the guy.  Here’s an emergency requisition from Sickbay, Ensign.  Please fill and ship this now.

Taking the slip from the Cyganian, Sandy counted out twenty boxes of BandAids from the adjacent shelf.  After which, she loaded up a delivery drone, and sent it to the Sickbay on Deck 7.

After working in the storeroom for four weeks, Sandy was feeling pretty confident in her job.  At her first review, the Lieutenant rated her as Exceeding Expectations across the board, except in the category of flexibility, where Sandy only Met Expectations.

Being a bit of perfectionist, too, Sandy grew overly disheartened by this first mildly negative stain on her record. 

Oh, come on! Brenda scoffed, sitting on her bunk and painting her nails.  This week, they were green, in an effort to impress a green-skinned, Talasian fry cook.  Brenda had been assigned to the galley, and was busy washing dishes, or wiping tables after every meal.  She had only Met Expectations in her review, otherwise, she would have advanced to the Salad Preparation station.  I don’t give a damn what they rate me.  I’m not going to stay a minute more in the galley than I absolutely have to.

You’ll end up in the bilge, Sandy advised, studying her own toes.  Her nails were chipped, but she didn’t care.  The Commander punishes everyone by sending them down there.

Brenda shrugged.  I can think of a few other ways that Commander could punish me.  Have you seen him, Sandy?  She whistled through her teeth.  He kinda reminds of that alien you used to date.

Kyle? Sandy asked, having not met the Commander yet.  With nearly eight hundred crew aboard, it took awhile for him to make the rounds.

Unfortunately, she didn’t hear Brenda’s response as the ship’s alarm bells began to ring with yet another drill on fire safety and procedures.

Sandy dwelled on her poor performance, and began to make even more mistakes. 

It was nothing, the Cyganian Lieutenant insisted.  Get over it.  If you get your head back in the game, I’m sure your next review will be better.

Sandy nodded, even though she was convinced her boss didn’t understand.  Nobody could comprehend the tremendous pressure she was under.  With both parents setting the precedent, Sandy couldn’t afford to fail, and yet, everything she did somehow came out wrong.  When Engineering ordered screws, Sandy mistakenly shipped them bolts.  When the galley ordered napkins, Sandy delivered sporks. 

On the day of her two month anniversary, right before her next review, Sandy loaded up a drone with feminine hygiene products, and sent it to the men’s barber shop. 

OMG! she gasped, as soon as the drone whizzed down the hall.  Come back!  Please, come back!  I’ve made a mistake. 

Of course, the drone ignored her cries, speeding down the corridor and across the observation deck, leaving Sandy with no choice but to take off after it. 

Nearly colliding with a group of officers, and knocking over a maintenance guy, whose ladder was perched against the wall, Sandy ditched her heavy boots, continuing her quest in her bare feet. 

Sandy bolted onto the observation deck, just as the drone paused to wait for a lift.  As it stood humming next to the closed doors, Sandy pounced, knocking off its load.  Tripping over the drone’s antennae, she sprawled upon the floor, her filthy feet extended in the air, the rest of her amidst an entire case of feminine hygiene products. 

It was while she was in this unfortunate position when the lift’s doors swished open, and to her dismay, an officer stepped out.  Reaching down, he switched off the recalcitrant drone.

Oh God, Sandy moaned, noticing the three and half gold Commander’s strips crisscrossing his black spandex sleeve, as well as the circle of stars indicating the Discovery’s First Officer.  I’m sorry, sir.  I’ll clean this up immediately.  Because Sandy was too mortified to look up at his face, she spoke instead to his pair of shiny black boots.  One of them began to tap with an air of profound disgust.  My boots! Sandy realized, apologizing again, for in addition to her other crimes, she was missing that crucial part of her uniform.  You see, I couldn’t run after the drone and all this stuff.  They’re down the hall.  I’ll fetch them right away!  Sorry, sir!

Still, the Commander did not respond, except for that foot, which continued to tap impatiently. 

I’m sorry, sir, really, she begged, making her best effort not to cry.

Get up, Ensign,