Chapter Thirteen
After a night of dignified celebrations – and one wild pub-crawl organized by Alix, during which he lost more Endeavours than in the action with the Klingons – Rear-Admiral Drake was called into conference with the rest of the Admiralty on Starbase Seventy. After a hearty breakfast of bacon, toast and painkillers, he felt just about ready to tackle such a meeting, and on his way up to the starbase he passed several groups of Endeavours who were obviously still recovering from last night: all credit to Alix, she knew how to organize a good drinking session. His shipmates all smiled and greeted him easily enough, and Drake happily returned their good mornings.
It was a different matter when he reached the starbase, and he became uncomfortable. As with every other base in the quadrant, there were a great number of captains on Seventy. Some had ships in dock, but many more were waiting for commands to become available. Drake recognized very few of the faces, but he knew Captain Loveless, a man seven years his senior, and he was partway through saying "Good morning, sir" when Loveless said it to him. For a moment Drake was taken aback, before he recalled that he was no longer a captain, that Loveless was no longer his senior. He suddenly felt very awkward again. He had been used to his place on the captain's list – somewhere near the middle – he had known who was above and who was below him; had known his place in the natural order of things. Now that order was entirely destroyed. His name no longer resided on the same list as Loveless'. In fact, his was last on the list of admirals, an entirely different plane of existence all together.
I'll get used to it, he assured himself, but he was not much convinced. In fact twice more on his walk he came across formerly senior captains, and had to bite back the word 'sir' before it could escape from his lips. He was surprised and somewhat disheartened by the coldness of the greetings he received in reply, quite devoid of human feeling. The curse of flag-rank, he reminded himself. He was above those people in Starfleet's hierarchy, and they were obliged to show him a certain level of respect. It made him feel lonely and cut off from the people he had so long considered to be his contemporaries.
His spirits were greatly buoyed when he came into contact with an old friend – an even older acquaintance than Alix Nain, not quite so treasured, but close. Captain Nwabudike Lal had arrived one day too late to join in the party, and now he came rushing towards Drake with his hand out-stretched and a brilliant white smile shining on his coal black face. "Will! Congratulations! Sorry I missed the show. Alix sent me an invite, but we just couldn't make it."
"Nwabudike! It's great to see you again. How are you?"
"Fine, fine. Just come back from a deep space survey op – you know what those are like."
"Boring, huh?"
"Dull as can be. Still, given what's been happening around here I'm almost glad we missed it."
"You heard what happened to Herminie?"
"My first officer had a cousin there."
Drake winced. "I'm sorry."
"So am I. I've given her leave; I hope it helps." He cheered up. "I also heard about some reckless young fool attacking a Klingon battleship in an antique starship. Now that cannot be right, can it?"
"Would you believe they made me admiral for it?"
"I know." Nwabudike scratched his head. "Still getting my head around that one. You've told Annabelle? By the way, I stopped in to see her when I was on Earth."
"How is she?" Asked Drake, keen to hear news of his beloved. He had received several letters from her since the ship had left Spacedock, and they kept him pretty well informed, but when it came to Annabelle he could never hear enough.
"Lovely as ever," Nwabudike assured him. "She tells me that the children she teaches get thicker every year, but other than that she seems to be enjoying herself. Did you know that Arkett finally retired?"
"No, I hadn't heard." Arkett had been captain of the Endeavour when he and Nwabudike had been junior lieutenants in that vessel, and Alix had been a six-year-old passenger, her parents senior officers.
"It's true. He bought the house at the end of your street – that big one that you said would never sell."
"I didn't say that – Alix did."
"Whoever. I don't envy you, Will," Nwabudike chuckled. "Having the old captain living just down the street. It would intimidate the hell out of me if he moved in next door to me."
"Lucky I'm in deep space, then, huh? It'll be good to see Arkett again – I haven't seen him since he was made Admiral of the Vulcan Fleet. I've got good memories of him."
"So do I. Speaking of admirals, how did Alix take your little promotion?"
"Said she wasn't going to salute."
Nwabudike laughed. "That sounds like Alix. How is she?"
"I don't really know, to be honest. She met a girl the first day we were in port and since then…"
"She's been flat on her back?"
Drake tried not to think about it. "I wouldn't be surprised."
Nwabudike let loose another of his boundlessly cheerful laughs. "You know, I've thought about asking her for tips before now. See if I can replicate some of her success with the ladies."
"I don't think you'd do much with the kind of women Alix attracts."
Nwabudike shrugged. "Well, maybe not. You never know; could be interesting."
Drake laughed hard, but he couldn't laugh long, time ticking away. "Nwabudike, I'm sorry, but I've gotta run. I've got a meeting with the brass. "
"You are the brass."
"Right. How long are you staying around the base? Got time for a drink?"
He nodded. "More than one. Ship needs basic repairs, and I'm going to have to take on new crew – my old hands have all been paid off by now. A few weeks."
"Great. I'll catch up with you, then."
Admirals McCaffrey, Granger, Applegate and Hamilton were all waiting for him when he arrived in the briefing room, apologising for his tardiness.
"You're not late, Admiral Drake," said McCaffrey. "We're still waiting on Admiral Robin."
They didn't have to wait long, the portly admiral arrived just a little after Drake, his fleshy face bright red and liberally doused with sweat. He had been running to try and get to the meeting on schedule. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. There was a minor uprising on the San Pablo this morning, and I was obliged have a look in."
"Damn the Cunning," hissed Applegate, hitting his fist into his palm. "Ever since that mutiny there've been a lot more grumbles around the base. Discontent everywhere."
Drake had intended to keep his mouth shut as much as possible throughout this meeting. He was new to his rank, didn't really know what it meant to be an admiral, and didn't want to offend anyone on his first day. Nevertheless, this was an issue on which he felt capable of speaking. "Those ships were unhappy even before the Cunning mutiny, sirs. Detroit and San Pablo have never been happy."
"No," agreed Hamilton, who kept a close eye on the morale of the vessels in and around the sector. "Shark should never have been given command – wouldn't have if his father wasn't on the Council."
"Captain Li is a very capable man," defended Applegate. He was the kind of man who excused officers of almost every offence, laying all the blame squarely on the crewmen. He believed far too much that men higher up the hierarchy were better men.
"He is an excellent captain," Drake agreed. "During the battle he set about that Klingon cruiser wonderfully. But he has a poor way of dealing with his crew."
"What are you suggesting, Admiral?" Said Hamilton, before Applegate could speak. He was well acquainted with Applegate and knew that nothing useful or productive could come out of his mouth.
"There are a large number of ships in dock right now. Might it be possible to…disperse the Detroits and San Pablos amongst the fleet? And perhaps genteel first officers could be placed on the ships; people whom the crew would feel more comfortable with?"
Applegate was of the opinion that this would do no good what so ever – that black sheep could not be whitened – but he was ignored. McCaffrey, who had been a starship captain and knew the importance of a happy ship, wholeheartedly approved of Drake's suggestion. He called in his clerk, had his orders transcribed and sent out.
"Let's hope that it has an effect. Now, Gentlemen, if we can turn our attention to other business. These rogue Klingons – and we are assured that they are rogue – are a serious matter that must be dealt with immediately. The destruction of Herminie cannot go unpunished."
"Are we sure they are renegade?" Asked Robin. "They did send a battleship."
"It's a frightening thought if a Klingon battleship can go rogue without anyone noticing," agreed Hamilton.
"The Klingon military is very compartmentalized," said Drake, speaking again on a topic of which he was quite knowledgeable. "General Kravft explained it to me during my last mission. Each House has its own fleet of ships and body of soldiers. The High Council itself has a fleet and an army, but these are quite small, and the government usually draws upon the personal House forces when it goes to war."
"So you're saying that we could be dealing with just one militant Klingon House?"
"General Kravft was of that opinion."
"House Han'tH, I believe you said in your report?" Said McCaffrey, taking charge of the proceedings.
"Yes, sir."
"What do we know about them?" Asked Granger, looking about for an answer.
"They were heavily opposed to the Khitomer treaty; they tried to persuade the High Council that war was the only course, but Chancellor Azetbur silenced them. Since then they've been moodily quiet, but Starfleet hasn't been watching too closely. We didn't want to be seen to by spying on our new allies." McCaffrey mulled over what he had just said. "It's quite possible that they've been using the time to amass their forces in secret. What I can't understand is why the High Council didn't notice."
Something came to Drake. "General Kravft told me that he had been recalled to Qo'noS to discuss something of great importance with the Council, but he couldn't tell me what."
"You think that this could be it, Admiral?"
"I think it's a possibility," Drake replied. "The High Council might have known that Han'tH was marshalling his troops; and they wouldn't necessarily have wanted to let us know that they were having trouble with one of their own generals. In any case, it would be worth sending a ship to Qo'noS to speak to the High Council. They might know something, and we should probably let it be known that we don't hold the Empire responsible for what happened."
Nodding heads, a chorus of agreement. Was this what it meant to be an admiral? Stating one's opinion, pointing out the obvious? He could do that.
McCaffrey looked over to him. "Admiral Granger informs me that you intend to remain with your ship, Drake?"
"That's correct, sir."
"How soon can Endeavour be ready to depart?"
He was caught embarrassingly flat. "I'm…not exactly sure, sir. We've completed repairs, but I'm not certain of the supply situation, and I have a number of crew placements still to fill."
"Get on it, Admiral. I want the Endeavour on her way to Qo'noS as soon as possible."
"Aye aye, sir."
Familiar orders, not so different to being a captain. Drake decided that he could do this admiral thing after all.
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"Hello. Is Alix about?"
The semi-dressed Orion girl nodded mutely and stepped aside to allow the admiral in. He smiled at her benignly, at once seeing what Alix had found so deeply attractive about her. She was a beautiful woman, her body a sculpture and her round face perpetually cheerful. According to rumours, she had been Admiral Applegate's sweetheart for a while, but she had never been entirely satisfied with him. Drake wondered if Alix knew that she had stolen an admiral's girl, and whether she cared. Probably not.
His friend appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a silk nightgown and a cheeky smile. "Hello, Will. You woke me. And I'd only just got to sleep."
"I don't want to know," Drake assured her.
Alix's smile became bigger and considerably more naughty, and with her eyes she said that she didn't believe what he said – that she was sure he really would be quite interested in the details. She refrained from teasing, however, poured a cup of black coffee for herself and one for Drake. She offered a cup to her friend, but the Orion girl preferred sleep to caffeine, and went upstairs. Alix gestured for Drake to sit on the small sofa and she settled down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "What's up?"
"New mission."
"Really? That was quick."
"Delicate situation, and all that."
"Right. Want to fill me in, or do I have to guess?"
"I thought you had your finger on the pulse?"
"I took it off for a few hours and put it –"
"I don't want to know!"
"Yes, you do."
He changed the subject very quickly. "Nwabudike is in dock."
"Really?" Alix sat up, an entirely different kind of cheer in her now. "When did that happen?"
"This morning. I bumped into him on my way to my briefing. Which reminds me, I've arranged to meet him a little later for drinks. You want to come along? I know he'd be happy to see you again."
"Love to. Never say no to a drink."
Drake laughed. "That's one of your problems. I'm amazed that you can stand up this morning."
"So am I, actually."
He frowned. "That's not what I meant. You hit the bars hard last night."
"I have a lot of practice at hitting bars. I can take it. What I'm not so good at is all night –"
"Alix!" Drake admonished, and she laughed until her face was as red as her eyes.
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She was still in great cheer when she and Drake met Nwabudike in one of the starbase's lounges. Decorum and Alix Nain had never been on a first name basis, and when she saw the man she laughed loudly, ran over and leapt onto him, arms and legs wrapping tightly around his chest. Nwabudike laughed boisterously and patted her on the back. "Good to see you, too, Alix."
Nwabudike Lal was Drake's particular friend, they having met at the Academy and having served together in an early commission, but Alix had met him on the Endeavour some years ago and they had taken a liking to each other almost immediately. Alix approached most people expecting to like and be liked. This didn't always happen – a lot of people weren't of the same mindset and wouldn't give her a chance – but when it did the resulting friendship was always of great benefit to both. Alix liked people, and she was steadfastly loyal to her friends, prepared to go to any lengths to help them, as Drake could attest.
The three friends sat and talked at some length, Nwabudike regaling them with tales of his exploits since they had last seen each other, which had been at least three years. He had had some interesting adventures in that time, and Drake and Alix listened intently to everything that he had to say, laughing along with him at his victories, expressing their sympathy at his losses. Nwabudike was a swashbuckling captain, a daredevil. He was greatly admired in some circles for being a charming rogue, and despised in others as arrogant and unreliable. In this respect, he and Alix Nain had a lot in common.
"I could use you, Alix," he said when he had run out of stories to tell. "If you ever get tired of Admiral Drake's tyranny just let me know. I'm sure I could rescue you."
Alix grinned from ear to ear. "Thanks for the offer. I'd love to take you up on it, but Will's already pressed me for one more mission."
"An assignment? Where are you going?"
"Qo'noS," said Drake casually.
"Great! I've always wanted to see Qo'noS."
Something about the way she said that made Drake turn a suspicious look her way. "You haven't been there before, Alix?" He was unsurprised when her only reply was a wonderfully cryptic smile.
"I'll bet she has," said Nwabudike, who knew of Alix's lust for adventure and her time as a private spaceship pilot.
She neatly avoided the topic. "What are we to do on Qo'noS, Will?"
"Diplomatic duties and a little intel gathering. We're going to let the High Council know that we believe they're not behind the attack on Herminie, and see what they know about who did do it."
"Pity we don't have Harrow anymore. This sort of thing is right up his alley."
"Good point. He's still in Klingon space, as far as I know. If we can pick him up that might be useful."
"It could be."
"And it would give me another chance to visit Mr. Ling. What a joy that could be for both of us!"
"Bad. Evil Kana. Naughty," said Alix, as though talking down a child. The demon grinned, completely unreproached.
Conversation continued around her, but Alix had lost the thread of it and she retreated somewhat into her own mind, focusing on herself and her other self. She was so practiced at following a spoken conversation and a mental one simultaneously that she put up a good pretence of listening to what Drake and Nwabudike were saying – answered when spoken to – but her attention was definitely elsewhere.
"What do you expect we'll find on Qo'noS?"
"Aside from a race of simple-minded savages that should have died out eons ago? A large number of very old buildings, I'd imagine."
"I meant in the way of answers."
"I know you did. If I could answer that question, Alix, it would spare us the necessity of visiting that pathetic world. Unfortunately, I know no more than you do – in this matter, at least."
"Do you think we should pay one of the Klingon prisoners another visit?"
"We have already interrogated them to the best of our abilities." Kana shrugged. "Of course, we could go back and I could try again. It would be amusing, but a little pointless, and we would doubtless destroy the minds of many of our subjects. I know that you object to that sort of thing."
"Alix," Drake asked, "do you know how we stand for supplies and equipment?"
She answered without a pause: "I'm afraid not, Will. Hard to keep track of those things from your bed."
He looked genuinely apologetic as he said, "I'm sorry to have to spoil your fun, Alix, but I need you to report back aboard the ship this afternoon and take command. Vicki and Horris are otherwise engaged, and I need a senior officer aboard to whip the crew into shape. We need to be ready to put into space as soon as we can."
"You can't complain, Alix. You've had a lot of fun," said Kana, with just a hint of spite in her words.
"True," she reluctantly agreed. "Where will you be, Will?"
"I've still got twenty crew placements to fill."
"Right. I don't suppose my friend…?"
"No."
"Didn't think so."
He considered Alix's relationship with her 'friend' – for friend was surely all that she was to her. He had known Alix Nain for a very long time, and he knew that while she was capable of great friendship, kindness and passion, love was entirely beyond her. She was incapable of feeling it, and did not seem to properly understand what it might be. He wondered what it was about her that made her incapable of forming such close bonds with other people. She could take a friendship to any level, but she couldn't properly feel love. Not romantic love, anyway, affectionate love was within her power. Why was that? She had lost her parents at a very young age; had never had a real family; and she had spent a lot of her life drifting. Was that the explanation? Or was it something else? Was there some deep flaw in her character that kept her from really loving?
In truth, there was one person whom Alix could feel that kind of love towards, but only one: Kana. She could never be so close to another as she was with her alter ego, and so she could never feel so deeply for them. It was, as Drake had surmised, a personality defect, and it was one that arose from her entirely unique personality.
Drake started to feel that they were leaving Nwabudike out of the conversation, and he asked his friend for a few more details of his last mission. Nwabudike was happy to talk, but he was much more interested in hearing about what Drake and Alix had been up to, and in particular about their clash with the Klingon battleship. Drake recounted the battle for him in detail, bits of bread taking the places of the ships in the two squadrons, moving about the table and being eaten by Alix as they were destroyed or otherwise taken out of the fight. By the time he had finished describing the boarding action – leaving the gory details to one side – he had gathered quite an audience. The tale had been told many times, every Endeavour on the base being pressed for their version, but these were the words of Admiral Drake himself, the man who had led the fight, and they were most treasured.
Nwabudike loved every minute of it, and when the story was finished he thumped the table in hearty approval. In addition to being a bit of a rogue, Nwabudike was a fighter, a captain very much in Drake's mould, and he would have given his right arm to be involved in that action. Sadly for him, he commanded a survey ship, and while that gave him ample opportunity for adventure it never allowed him to be involved in a glorious action like that.
Admiral Drake's opinion was that it was a terrible waste. Nwabudike Lal was a warrior, and he deserved to be on a fighting ship. Given the renewed possibility of conflict with the Klingons, Starfleet could certainly do with a man of his talents on the front line.
A thought came to him. There were a large number of ships in mothballs; ships that had been built as warships during the cold war with the Empire and were no longer required in a time of peace. Admiral Granger had mentioned such a vessel to him before – Indomitable. He knew that the mothballed craft were being manned and equipped even now, and that they were in need of commanders. There were a lot of unassigned captains, and it was possible that command postings would be assigned by lucky dip, or something similar. That wouldn't be very good for the fleet.
After he had had his drink with Nwabudike, Drake went to his quarters on the starbase and studied the list of available ships and captains. Two hours later, he made his way to Admiral Hamilton's office with a PADD under his arm.
"Come in. Yes, Admiral Drake, what can I do for you?"
"Sir, I understand that you are responsible for reactivating the ships in mothballs here?"
"Yes, Admiral, I am. Why? Do you have some suggestions to make?" Half the personnel on the station had one or two thoughts that they wanted to present on this subject.
"Actually, Admiral, I do have some names that I would like to submit for consideration."
Hamilton took the PADD. "Nwabudike Lal – yes, I had expected to see him. Cole Devlin. Natasha Shimmer. What's this? James Fox?"
"Yes, sir."
"I was under the impression that your respect for Captain Fox was…lacking."
Drake made a gesture that was cousin to nodding and shrugging. "I disagree with his methods when it comes to crew, sir, and he was a weak commodore, but he is a brave and capable fighting captain. Right now, that's what we need."
"I couldn't agree more. You recommend giving him Indomitable, though? That's a plum assignment. I'm surprised you didn't reserve it for Captain Lal."
"That would be showing all together too much favouritism, sir. Captain Lal is one of the best fighting captains I've ever known, but he's never commanded anything bigger than a survey ship before. He wouldn't be comfortable with a battleship and a crew of thousands. The Reckless is small ship, but she's very powerful, and I know Nwabudike – Captain Lal, I mean, sir – would do her proud."
Hamilton nodded. "I quite agree. You know, you've saved me a walk, Admiral. I was planning to get your input on all of this. Let me see," he read through the rest of Drake's list and nodded. "Yes, I see we think along similar lines. I was thinking of putting Devlin on the Indomitable, though."
Drake disagreed with that as an idea, as he explained. "Captain Devlin was a fighter pilot: his idea of a good ship is a fast, manoeuvrable one. He'd rather his ship could spin on the spot than throw a thunderous great broadside."
"A valid point. Very well, Fox for the Indomitable; Devlin can have the Gonzales – a better mover there isn't. Admiral Drake, is there anything else you'd like to add?"
"No, sir."
Hamilton hitched up an eyebrow and gazed at the new admiral. "I'm surprised. I'd half expected you to recommend your first officer for a command. A lot of the others who have been through my office have done that."
"I would honestly like to, sir," lied Drake, "but I don't believe that Commander McDonald is quite ready to lead a ship just yet. Besides which, I'm under orders to get underway as soon as possible, and I don't have the time to recruit competent replacement officers."
"Completely understandable. I won't keep you."
He left the office feeling pleased; sure that he had done his best by his friends and the service as a whole. He had indeed thought long and hard before putting Lal's name onto his list, knowing that he could be accused of favouritism, but the cold hard truth was that Nwabudike was a superior captain, and the fleet needed him. A part of him had also been tempted to recommend Alix for one of the corvettes, but something had stopped him – not worry about showing favouritism, but something altogether more selfish. He did not want to give up his friend.
His next stop after this was to the yards on New Manchester. Admiral Applegate commanded these, and he had grudgingly given Drake free reign to requisition whatever supplies and equipment he deemed necessary. The admiral and his chief engineer wandered the well-equipped yards at leisure, like boys let loose in a toy store, and they spent the rest of the day deliberating over what the ship needed most, picking and choosing amongst the breath-taking array of stores on offer.
Up in space, Alix Nain had retired aboard the Endeavour and assumed command. The ship was immediately familiar, but at the same time slightly changed, and it took her a while to put her finger on just what was different about her. She was a flagship now, belonging as she did to an admiral, and her crew were very much aware of this fact. They had spent the time since they had learnt of Drake's promotion in cleaning and polishing every square inch of the old girl that they could reach, so that now her metal gleamed and her crew's uniforms were clean as could possibly be. Never in her entire long existence had the Endeavour been a flagship before now, never even a pendant ship, her previous masters having abandoned her when they rose above captain. The hands knew this, and they treated the old girl with extraordinary care, they all believing at least on some level that the ship was as proud of her new status as they were.
Lieutenant Nain had rarely commanded the Endeavour when she had been an ordinary starship, so it was ironic that it was she who took the centre chair for the first time when Endeavour was made a flagship. All of the crew were already aboard, by now aware of their new assignment, although it had not yet been officially announced, and the ship was just waiting on a few tonnes of supplies. Alix took a look at the situation and ordered Endeavour to slip her moorings and move out beyond the base. Being docked did nothing to accelerate the loading process; in fact the starbase's bureaucracy was actually slowing things down. The great old starship slid smoothly out of her docking cradle, out of the enormous hull of the base, and back into the comfortable night sky that she knew so well.
Planet side, Admiral Drake had finished making his choices and the last batch of supplies were being whisked up to the orbiting ship, when a nervous young man approached him and saluted. There was something familiar about the man, certain features of his face that Drake was sure he had seen before, but the admiral could not quite place it at first.
"Yes, Crewman? How can I help you?"
"Sir, I…I've heard that you need a few more hands for your ship." It was common knowledge, and Drake had been approached by some hopefuls already. He nodded noncommittally and the man continued: "I was hoping that, perhaps, sir, you might consider my request? I don't have a great deal of ship experience, but I'm hard working and keen to learn."
He admired the sentiment, but a lack of experience certainly counted against the man, there being so many competent starmen available on the starbase. Drake had no need to ship a landsman if he didn't want to. And yet there it was again, something nagging in his mind, telling him that he should recognize this person. "I'll take it under consideration. What is you name?"
"Crewman Lewis, sir. Nathaniel Lewis."
It clicked. "Lewis? Martin Lewis' brother?"
"Yes, sir."
Drake looked at the man tenderly. "Your brother saved my life. I wish I could have done him the same service. Welcome aboard."
It was with this Crewman Lewis in the back that Admiral Drake's gig left New Manchester and climbed up to meet the stars. The craft shot up through a bank of cloud, which grew thinner and thinner by the moment, until it was gone entirely and all that was ahead of them was space.
Space, and the most beautiful sight that Drake had seen in his life. One that brought a tear to his eye, and not just his but the eyes of Chief Fran and Commander McDonald, who was now as passionately attached to her ship as her commander was.
There, highlighted by the setting sun, hung the Starship Endeavour, lit from bow to stern by her running lights so that the whole universe could know her name. Simple geometric shapes held together by strong pylons, she was stunning, so much more beautiful than the bulky workhouses of the modern Starfleet. Some might say that she was old, that she belonged to a simpler age, but those people had never been aboard her, had never felt her decks pulse with life, never experienced the speed or the strength that she possessed. Yes she was old, but the reason that she was old was because she was tough enough to laugh in the face of the worst the universe could throw at her.
"There she is," breathed Drake, a man in love.
She grew steadily, until the whole ship was no longer visible, only the gaping mouth of the open shuttle bay. Drake's gig touched down neatly amongst the other shuttles, and immediately a pair of crewmen rushed forward with steps so that the officers could disembark comfortably. Drake and the others received warm welcomes from Lieutenant Nain and the crewmen on duty in the shuttle bay, all of them familiar faces by now.
A new head poked its way uncertainly out of the craft, silently shuffled down the steps to the deck. Admiral Drake beamed at him, and then at Joe Friedman. "A new hand for your department, Mr. Friedman. I'll let you handle the introductions."
"Thank you, sir."
The officers departed; Friedman and his friends approached the new man. "Welcome aboard, mate. What's your name?"
"Nathaniel. Nathaniel Lewis."
"You related to Marty?"
"I'm his brother."
Friedman walked up to him, put an arm around his shoulder and turned him towards the other crewmen. "He's an Endeavour," said Friedman, and there wasn't a man present who disagreed with him. "You any good with a needle, Nathaniel?"
"Not really. Why?"
"No problem. Give your uniforms to Borris; he'll see that you're properly set up. Right, Borris?"
"Ya."
