Blood Impulse

Part 29.2 - TRANSFERRING SHIPS

14 hours later, Polaris Sector, Battleship Singularity

It was early. Even with the cup of potent back coffee one of the yeomen had brought her, Amelia felt the morning hours on her body. She'd been up all night gathering the supplies they'd need to live on the Badger. Here, the crew managed to find or donate whatever she and Harrison needed. On the Badger, it wouldn't be so easy, but the supply officer had dropped off a refugee kit with plain, size-adjustable clothes and other necessities. Refugees, she supposed that was what they were now.

Everything she owned had been left behind. She had no home, no funds. Hell, she'd probably lost her job by now, given how long she'd been gone. She had nothing, only her son, but that in itself was something to be grateful for.

"Morning," Ron greeted, holding his daughter's hand as he joined them on the hangar deck. "You ready?"

Amelia glanced to the two large duffel bags slung over Ron's shoulders. They looked heavy, but he didn't seem bothered. "Ready as I'm going to get, I suppose." She'd never set foot on a cargo ship before. Likely, it would be different than her brief time on the Singularity and from her cruise liner experience. In a way, she knew she'd miss the Singularity. While the Admiral was beyond a point of frustration and the ship's facilities were dated, most the crew had been friendly and she wasn't blind to the fact that being family to the commanding officer had granted her certain privileges.

"It'll be an adjustment," Ron agreed. He'd lived on a few different spacecraft during his time in the fleet, but never one so small as the Badger. He'd visited similar ships for missions, but never stayed long.

A young man with caramel skin approached them where they stood on the edge of the hangar deck. "Ah, thought I might find you here," he smiled. This was a calmer part of the deck. Since it wasn't an active work zone, it was quieter and smelled less. Visitors tended to gravitate toward it, though the crew didn't care so much. They were used to the reek of fuel and hearty smell of oil. It was part of home to the pilots and technicians. "I've got something for you. A yeoman just brought it down."

Amelia took the item offered to her, turning its rectangular form over. Its corners were nearly sharp, and it looked somewhat sturdy, encased in thin metal. It had a heft to it, the shape sealed, but not hollow. "What is this?" she asked, tracing her fingers along the port built into the corner.

"It's a remote data drive." Ron recognized it. They were fairly standard on ships, but seen far less on planets where interconnected, wireless network structures existed for communications and data transfer. Planetside, one could cue up something almost instantly and have it retrieved from network storage. Ships didn't have that luxury. They stored all their information on drives like that one, because what wasn't saved locally, they wouldn't have access to until connecting to the interplanetary network, the cortex, which was often considered a hazard, as it left ships open to cyberattack.

"Aye," confirmed the crewman, straightening the seams on his flight suit. "I was told it had the documents you requested, ma'am." And that was all he'd been told.

"Really?" That was surprising. She'd put in that request late last night and been promptly told that she wouldn't receive them until the ship returned with supplies – assuming it ever did.

"Ah," a new voice joined. "I see that found its way to you."

Amelia looked up to find Chief Ty, the first one who'd greeted her on this ship. During their time here, he'd become a welcome face, as he willing to tolerate Harrison's incessant questions. "What do you know about this?"