The one thing that bothered her about the two weeks was the little time she'd had to spend with Jake. She felt as though they were drifting, as though he was becoming less and less open to her as time went on and she was often at a loss for words. Being told she was his biggest problem was the ultimate statement of how far they'd managed to drift apart. She suppressed the wave of emotion as it threatened to overtake her and set her expression in a stern, hard stare.
“If you don't mind me saying so, Ma'am, it's good to meet you. My name's Sean Orlando.” introduced the lieutenant standing beside Ayan.
"I'm glad to meet you too." She had read that he was one of the surviving military officers from the Enreega system. The details of the taking of the Triton and the refugees from Enreega kept her up far later than she'd prefer to admit a few nights beforehand. The stories were a compilation of several journal recordings volunteered by the crew threaded together with Jacob's accounting.
He was surprisingly articulate. The intelligence and expressive quality of Jonas Valent was in there along with a more sardonic wit and a sort of confidence that came from experience. It was all recorded before Jonas Valent's memories surfaced. That's what struck her.
He spoke of taking a turn for the better when he decided to rescue instead of steal a cargo train filled with slaves. Seeing so many people stowed away for transport, mistreated and left in a barely liveable cargo hold while the hauler dragged them between solar systems was like a personal insult to him. He wished he had remained behind and ensured that the Galleon hauling the slaves was actually destroyed and decided to check arrival logs whenever he made port.
So much had happened to him and the crew of the Samson since they had made that decision, to rescue the slaves instead of steal them for Regent Galactic. It was just as Jacob said in the log; “Some decisions change everything that follows. If I didn't turn away from profit and choose to help those slaves find their freedom I wouldn't have taken the Triton, been in a position to take people on from Enreega and I wouldn't have met Ayan in her time of need.”
That was one of the things that touched Ayan, that she was a consideration in possibly the most influential chains of events in his life. The story that Security Chief Stephanie Vega had pieced together from other people's logs that led up to and continued from their encounters in the Enreega system was riveting, she couldn't finish reviewing it in one sitting, though she wished she could. It explained how the current crew members came together, why so many of them were unwaveringly loyal and part of the mythology that seemed to surround her former self and Jonas.
Since she'd come aboard eyes were on her and she'd done her best to live up to the expectations of the crew, directing the construction of the new engines, teaching when she had time and being a good commander. Much of it was within the scope of her training, but whenever someone looked at her with adoration or admiration she was surprised. She'd mentored junior officers before, but being at the heart of a ship wide mythology was completely different.
She still hadn't settled in new quarters. The decision was up to her, but being in the more common junior officers quarters seemed right until she was firm in her choice. Stephanie had presented her with options for accommodations, offering senior officers quarters in the command section, the aft dorsal guest quarters which were lavish enough to make her too embarrassed to move in and she finished her offer of accommodations with an apartment in the botanical gallery. That was where she wanted to be most, but it didn't feel right somehow. She didn't feel like moving from one place to another when being on Triton felt somehow transient. As though she were just stopping there for a short time before moving on. It was a feeling that plagued her ever since she woke for the first time in Freedom Tower on the Freeground colony.
She'd discussed it with Minh-Chu, who had proven to be a fantastic friend. He seemed to fit in perfectly, making a name for himself in a matter of days, taking the lead of the new squadron and teaching everyone a few things about what it meant to be a fighter pilot. Excitement, humour, enthusiasm all had their place as long as you did your job well, approached each task with the seriousness it demanded and looked out for each other was a philosophy he proved by example. Even though he was a daring, excitable pilot, there were few fighter jocks who wouldn't take him as their wingman or fly on his wing.
Life on the ship was easy for him, easier than it was for her. He had already taken the Wing Commander's quarters at the fore of the lower decks, in front of the pilot's berthing. The view from there looked out from the front of the ship and he had a perfect view of ships landing in any of the three hangars beneath.
After reviewing the history of the ship since Jacob and his crew had taken over she was most amazed at how eventful and encouraging it was. Ayan found it intimidating at times, she had to admit but more than anything she hoped that she could be a part of that story. That she could make good choices and, even though they saw her as a kind of icon already, gain respect as a commander.
The lift door opened and she snapped herself back to the present. She was surrounded by soldiers and they awaited her order. Ayan led them out into the busy hangar. They were working on a fighter that had just arrived with severe damage. They had to use a pry-bar to loosen the cockpit of the Uriel fighter. Regardless of the numerous dents and scorches the fighter had done its job protecting the pilot and her SIO, defending the Triton, engaging her enemies and bringing back the ship they had disabled only minutes before.
The disabled ship that the Uriel fighter had hauled in was an old half oval shaped yacht that had seen better days. Before the heavy duty elevator had finished raising it to be flush with the deck the main hatch slid aside. Several humans in dirty old service jumpsuits and partial vacsuits of various clip or zip together designs escorted a bloodied older woman. Her golden hair hung dishevelled, her lip was broken open, her left arm hung at an awkward angle, her eye socket and cheek were already puffing, changing colour.
Two crew members, a man and a woman, dragged her forward and tossed her on the deck. Ayan looked the forming crowd of twenty three over as her built in scanning equipment displayed results on the inside edge of her hood. After a moment she confirmed that the beaten older woman was the only one without a slave implant. She exhaled slowly, steadying her nerves. Ayan had never been faced with a situation in any way similar to what she was seeing. Refugee slaves that had a little time with one of their captors but were good enough to let her live. “All right, someone call for a medical team and stay close. Time to make friends,” she whispered to the security personnel surrounding her.
Ayan led the way to the refugee crew, striding confidently and swiftly. They followed behind her like a black wave. “Welcome to the Triton. We don't support slavery. We'll provide food, reasonable lodgings and will let you leave as soon as we've made port.”
A scrawny, filthy man with bulging eyes and uneven cheekbones stepped forward nervously. “If you have work and food that doesn't give me a rash I'll take it. I think I speak for everyone.”
“Aye, but find a cell or an airlock for the doctor here first,” added the tall woman standing beside the first speaker.
Ayan stopped five meters away from the group and looked them over. Her gaze came to rest on the blonde woman on the deck. One unswollen green eye looked at her pleadingly. “They beat me, please help,” she rasped wetly.
“You're the only one without a slave implant,” Ayan said. It was more a statement than a question. “First we'll use Captain Valance's nanobot program to remove them from everyone else while you receive treatment for your injuries. Then we'll be putting you in a cell. We're not allied with any governments so until we decide what to do with you, that's where you'll stay.” Ayan highlighted the program Jake had used to neutralize the slave implants and forwarded it to the soldiers around her. The suspense in the air surrounding the slaver's exact fate was palpable. “Just so you know, Doctor, I'm the kinder commander aboard. Captain Valance already executed your Captain and his First Officer aboard the Palamo.”