Siege on Star Cruise 239 Read online

  Max had never seen Winston in any type of clothing before. She couldn't help but giggle.

  "What, is something wrong? Do you not like the color? Are they too big?"

  "No. They're fine. I think they look good on you.

  Winston smiled. "Thank you. I thought maybe they might help me fit in."

  "Don't worry about fitting in, Winston. Be yourself."

  "I didn't think it was possible to be anyone other than myself. But that's an interesting concept."

  Max smiled. "You ready?"

  "I was born ready."

  Max grabbed a couple of towels from the head and tossed one to Winston. She slung one over her shoulder, and the two left the compartment, heading for the pool deck.

  It was warm. Synthetic palm trees and tropical foliage decorated the area. The sprawling pool curved its way through the compartment. There were several swim up bars. There were a few waterfalls, and behind the waterfalls, secluded grottoes. Rows of lounge chairs lined the sides of the pool. A transparent domed ceiling enclosed the area. It allowed for a magnificent view of the cosmos. The smart glass was coated with UV filters that automatically adjusted to the brightness of the external environment, shielding the occupants from harmful cosmic radiation.

  Scantily clad hard bodies frolicked in the pool. Waitstaff scurried about, delivering cocktails and appetizers. Everything was all-inclusive. A plethora of waitstaff attended to the passengers. The scene looked like something from a postcard, or an advertisement for a hedonistic getaway. So far, the cruise was living up to the hype.

  Max sauntered along the edge of the pool, looking for the perfect lounge chair. Her strut garnered the attention of several lecherous eyes as she passed by.

  She quite enjoyed the attention.

  Max and Winston reclined on lounge chairs, and and attendant was at their side within moments.

  "Is there anything I can get you this afternoon?"

  Max thought about this for a moment. "Two piña coladas."

  "Right away, ma'am."

  "Winston leaned over and whispered, “But, I don't drink."

  "I'm drinking for you."

  "I see." He leaned back against the chair and tried to look casual.

  After a few moments later, the waiter returned with the beverages and set them on the table next to Max.

  "Thank you," she said.

  “My pleasure, ma'am." The waiter disappeared, off to service another guest.

  It was a rare occasion that Max varied from her Bulvacci whiskey. But the piña colada was divine. She put the straw to her full lips and sipped the creamy beverage down. The first glass was empty in a matter of moments. The straw rattled as she slurped the last bits out of the bottom of the glass. She set it on the table and started to go to work on the second beverage. Max's enhanced genetics allowed her to process alcohol extremely fast. But she hadn't taken into account the recent developments with her system.

  The elderly couple Max had seen boarding was sitting in the neighboring lounge chairs. They were drinking piña coladas and seemed to be enjoying themselves. The man caught sight of Max, she was hard not to notice. He raised his glass to Max. “Cheers!”

  She reciprocated. “Cheers!”

  “Dale Davidson, U.F.M.C., retired. This is my wife, Audrey.”

  Audrey smiled, “Nice to meet you.”

  “Max Mars. It’s nice to meet you both.” She gestured to the robot. “This is Winston.”

  Winston smiled and waved.

  Dale had short gray, almost white hair, a square face and crystal blue eyes. His face was lined, but not overly so for his age. He had a short, trimmed mustache and thick eyebrows. He looked to be in good physical condition other than the exo-brace on his legs. It was a composite exoskeleton that fit his proportions perfectly. It gave him a surprising amount of mobility. He could walk normally, dance, even run. The Navy Reapers had been using westernized versions of the exoskeletons to increase strength and stamina. They could be fitted with weapons and accessories. The technology had trickled down to medical devices, and the exo-braces connected directly to the nervous system allowing full control, as if they were a person’s own appendage. It was extremely helpful for people with advanced disabilities that were beyond the help of surgery or regenerative medicine.

  “Where are you from?” Dale asked.

  “All over, really,” Max replied. It was a complex and classified subject. She couldn’t exactly explain to him that she was genetically engineered in a lab as part of a special warfare program.

  “Military?” Dale was sharp, and he could spot a service person when he saw one.

  “Navy Reapers,” Max said. She left out the part about being a member of Project SW Ultra.

  “Well, I won’t hold that against you,” Dale said with a wink.

  Max grinned.

  “Careful,” Audrey said. “He’s going to start telling you old war stories soon.”

  “I’m sure they’re fascinating,” Max said, genuinely interested.

  “I’ve got plenty to tell,” Dale said.

  Audrey nodded. She had heard them all at least twice.

  “I don’t miss getting shot at, believe me. But I miss the Corps. I miss being relevant.”

  “There he goes, feeling sorry for himself again,” Audrey said. “You’re still very relevant to me.”

  Dale smiled. “Thank you, dear.”

  “And I’m going to make you prove it tonight,” she said with a lascivious glint in her eyes.

  The two shared a naughty glance, still excited by one another after all these years. Max smiled. It was nice to see.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you,” Dale said. “We’re going to go for a swim.” The two climbed out of their lounge chairs and slipped into the warm blue water.

  By the time Max was halfway through the second glass, she was definitely feeling the effects. A couple of hot guys walked by with six pack abs and bulging biceps. Max's eyes were glued to them as they strolled poolside. "I think I'm starting to like this whole cruise thing."

  One of the guys looked back over his shoulder and smiled at Max—a little spark brewing between them.

  A familiar voice called out to her from the opposite direction. "Max? Is that you?"

  Max turned her head and looked up to see Dylan standing at the edge of her lounge chair. He was a handsome man, little on the clean-cut side—but working for the Federation Criminal Investigative Service tends to do that to a person.

  She and Dylan had a short, but passionate fling back on Orion Station. It wasn't meant to last, not with their lifestyles. Neither one of them could sit still, and duty always seem to come before anything else.

  "What are you doing here?" Max asked, both surprised and suspicious.

  Dylan shrugged. "I thought I could use a little time to decompress. It's been a little stressful at the FCIS lately. Lots of administrative changes, not to mention a backlog of cases."

  Max was skeptical. "You’re not following me around, are you?”

  He gave her a flat look. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not that much of a masochist."

  She scowled at him, playfully.

  “Though I must say, you are looking… Not terrible." And by not terrible he meant totally fucking hot.

  She sneered at him. "Too bad you blew it when you had your chance."

  “I blew it?" "I think it’s safe to say it was a joint effort."

  "Pfft!”

  Dylan decided to turn his attention to someone who might be a little bit more welcoming. “Hey, Winston."

  "Hello, Agent Carter."

  "You can call me Dylan."

  "Certainly, Agent Dylan Carter."

  Dylan chuckled. "Just Dylan." His gaze turned back to Max's toned body. "What deck are you on?"

  "We are on A deck," she said with a slightly smug tone.

  "Dylan raised his eyebrows. "Live’n large. I'm on C deck with the rest of the impoverished."

  Max smiled, gleefully.

  "Mayb
e we can have dinner together one night, if you don't mind being seen a lower-class passenger?”

  "Maybe," Max said in a coy tone.

  Dylan rolled his eyes “Okay. I see how this is going to be. Well, enjoy the rest of your afternoon. Maybe I'll see you around."

  "Maybe," Max said.

  Dylan shook his head, chuckling to himself at Max's stubbornness.

  Max watched him go.

  "Why do you pretend you don't like each other?" Winston asked.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I can hear it in your voice patterns and see it in your body language. You two have deep affection for each other."

  Max scoffed. "We had a mutual infatuation," she protested. "The practicality of it was something entirely different."

  "As I understand it, love isn't about practicality."

  “Whoa, hang on there, cowboy. Who said anything about love?"

  "No one had to say anything about love. It's clearly evident in your interactions."

  Max twisted her face at him. "Who made you an expert?"

  "I find myself a perpetual student of human behavior."

  "Well, it seems you've got a lot to learn."

  "Perhaps. But it seems to me you humans act as if you have an infinite amount of time, when in actuality, you don't." Winston realized he probably shouldn’t have said that.

  "What are you trying to say?"

  "Life moves pretty fast. Sometimes you need to slow down and appreciate the people around you."

  Max arched an eyebrow at him. "I appreciate you."

  "I am not a person."

  “You’re a sentient being, and more human than most.”

  Winston beamed with joy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Max lost herself in thought for a moment. “You're right. I am going to appreciate the people around me." Her eyes scanned the area and found the hot guy she had exchanged a glance with earlier. "Right now I'm going to go appreciate him.”

  She climbed out of the lounge chair and rose to her feet, but the piña colada's hit her like a freight train. She had a head rush and felt unsteady. She wasn't used to the sensation at all. The deck looked like it was going to come up and smack her face.

  "I do believe you are intoxicated," Winston said.

  “Nonsense," she slurred. She took a step toward Mr. Six-pack, then promptly crashed to the deck.

  8

  Winston did what any loyal friend would do under the circumstances. He held Max's hair back, keeping it out of her face as she hugged the toilet. It wasn't a pretty sight. Fortunately, for Winston, he could deactivate his sense of smell, and he didn't have a gag reflex.

  When it was all over, he handed her a washcloth to wipe her face. "Do you think you can stand up? Or do you want to lay on the tile and hug the porcelain bus?"

  Max looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "I can stand.”

  Winston helped her stagger to her feet. The ship was still spinning. Max had been holding her own until the Celestial Voyager left port and made a slide-space jump. The shift to quantum space could twist even the most hardened sailor’s stomach. The combination of piña coladas and Max's deteriorating genetic condition made her extremely susceptible to the nauseating effects of quantum travel.

  Her cheeks bulged, and she could feel the sour acidic taste creeping up in the back of her throat again. Her eyes filled with panic.

  Winston braced himself for the worst, but Max managed to stifle the sensation.

  "I'm good. I'm good." She was trying to convince herself of that fact.

  "I think you'll feel better after a hot shower."

  Max agreed.

  Winston turned on the shower water and adjusted the temperature, then helped Max into the stall. She didn't bother taking off her bikini. What difference would it make? The hot water seemed to reinvigorate her to some degree. "I don't understand. That's never happened before."

  "They say there is a first time for everything."

  She stayed in the shower for a long time, leaning against the tile. When she was finished, Winston handed her a towel. The bathroom had filled with steam and fogged the mirror. The condensation was interfering with Winston's optics. He grabbed the washcloth and dried his eyes. He wasn't exactly designed to operate in a super humid environment.

  After she toweled off, Winston handed her a glass of water and two pills. "Here, take these. They will help with the nausea."

  Max gingerly swallowed them down, not quite sure if her stomach would cooperate with even the slightest input.

  "Would you like some coffee?"

  Max mustered a nod.

  Winston helped her into bed and tucked her in. He returned a few moments later with a cup of coffee and set it on the nightstand, but Max was already passed out. He stayed by her side and watched her as she slept. In a way, he was more worried about her in this condition than when she had been shot or injured. Those were clear-cut injuries that could be treated. He couldn't figure out why Max was having a hard time processing a few drinks. He had seen her put down way more liquor before and not display even a hint of intoxication. He was beginning to think all wasn't fine—that she had definitely lied to him in the waiting room of Doctor Matsuda’s office

  His neural network began to process, cooking up all kinds of disastrous scenarios. There was no doubt about it, Max was his best friend, and he would be devastated without her. Winston didn't fully understand why or how he had developed an emotional connection to her. He was a robot. He wasn't supposed to have strong emotional ties.

  Felix hopped on the bed and curled up next to Max. His constant soft purrs were comforting.

  Winston, being the neurotic robot that he was, felt compelled to attend the ship’s orientation. It was almost 1700 hrs. Max looked like she was sleeping peacefully, so he quietly left the room and made his way down to C deck.

  Instead of packing all the passengers into one large compartment, multiple officers were giving orientation to small groups of passengers throughout various sections of C deck three. The presentation started off by listing the amenities and recreational activities and other shipboard features. "There will be three formal meals per day," an officer said. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. For those of you who like to snack and graze all day, the galley is open 24 hours a day. The food fabricators can re-create meals from across the galaxy in a matter of moments, and there are food fabricators in the First Class compartments with limited menus. We have several bars and nightclubs, featuring live entertainment every night. There are plenty of athletic activities including a full weight room, aerobics center, tennis courts, racquetball, volleyball, basketball, and an Olympic size pool in addition to our recreational pools. For those of you who are less athletically inclined we have a full virtual reality arcade, movie theater, and a relaxing spa. Be sure to pamper yourself at least once during your cruise. The Celestial Voyager is one of the safest cruise ships in the galaxy. We anticipate no complications on our voyage, but in the event of emergency this ship is equipped with multiple escape pods located throughout the various decks." The officer motioned to the nearest escape ship. "The vehicles have a maximum occupancy of 20 passengers each, and there are more than enough to accommodate everyone on board, including crew. The ships are fully automated and are programmed to fly a safe distance away, then wait for rescue. There is enough food and water aboard to support the passengers for up to two weeks. Because of the size and food storage requirements, the escape pods do not have a quantum drive. But have no fear, upon launch an emergency beacon will transmit to the Star-Line corporate headquarters and a recovery team will be deployed immediately." The officer smiled, trying to lighten the tone. "But don’t worry, in my entire tenure as a Star-Line officer, we have never had to use an emergency evacuation vehicle. Star-Line has a flawless operational record."

  "What happens if the ship gets attacked by aliens?" A young boy asked.

  The officer chuckled, trying to downplay the likelihood of event. “We’ll be
traveling entirely within Federation space. The likelihood of an alien attack during the cruise is very slim. We have a wonderful military and they are out there doing everything possible to protect our borders."

  "What if there’s a surprise attack?"

  The officer smiled again. "The Navy has all kinds of scanners and surveillance equipment, and patrols are continuously monitoring Federation space.”

  "What about inter-dimensional beings?"

  The officer sighed, trying to conceal his exasperation. He wasn't going to win with this kid. "The good news is we haven't ever encountered any inter-dimensional beings before, so the likelihood is slim. Since there are no more questions, I'll move on to discuss the specifications of the ship."

  The kid still had his hand in the air wanting to ask another question, but the officer ignored him.

  "The Celestial Voyager is powered by two Q-core reactors which deliver power to dual Hughes & Kessler X-9000 ion thrusters, making it the fastest vehicle in its class. The WaveMaker™ quantum field generator can jump the ship across the galaxy in the blink of an eye."

  The little kid started to ask another question, but the officer continued to speak over him. "If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you some of the featured attractions on board,” he led the group down the corridor.

  Winston followed along, soaking up every detail. He had already studied the ship’s layout and schematics well before their journey. He had read the operations manual, and could probably pilot the ship if need be.

  The cyborg and her traveling companion trailed along, still not looking like they were having a good time.

  9

  Max's eyes felt like they were glued shut. Her head throbbed, and her mouth felt like paste. She sat up slowly, still feeling a little queasy. What the hell was happening to her, she wondered? She had never woken up with a hangover before. Is this the way everyone felt after overindulging?

  Felix just stared at her.

  Max pulled herself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. She threw some water on her face and glanced into the mirror. She looked like hell. Bloodshot, puffy eyes. Nothing a little makeup couldn't fix, she thought. But she was going to need something for this pounding headache.