----------------------------------------------------------- - The Ta’ainvel - – By Khan – ----------------------------------------------------------- 11. Two hours later Anna, now Charlotte’s private nurse, made Jante leave saying Charlotte needed her rest. Having one hour before his assigned shift started he went to have a bite to eat. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal for twenty-three hours, only had a cup of Ja'inn now and then, the Ta’ainvel equivalent of coffee, so he was starved. Going past the kitchens of that floor he picked up a plate of fried vegetables and roast beef. Sitting down in the cantina he was soon joined by Jonas Moore who arrived only minutes after Jante. ”Hey Jonas, how goes?” ”Quite good actually. I’m due to report back to the bay in an hour for some training. You know, the Ta’ainvel fighter behaves much like a helicopter, even the controls are similar.” ”Yes, I’ve heard this. Its good that you are settling in so fast. How’s Elisabeth doing?” ”She’s fine, and happy with her job. She gets to watch Susanna all day, as well as work with the other children.” ”Good…Jonas, I need your advice.” ”Anything I can do to help, Jante.” ”Thanks. Well, its about Charlie, and where I’m going to put her.” ”You already have a place for her in the Fighters, right?” ”Yes, but what is her degree of skill, her past rank. And what does she want herself?” ”Hey, what she wants, I can’t tell you. Only she knows that. I can tell you about her skill as fighter though. ”She’s one of the damned best pilots I’ve seen, could fly a plane as if it was an extension of her own mind and she ruled the skies when it came to helicopters. She even flew one of those air-carriers once.” ”Really? An air-carrier you say…Those require pretty great skill at using a lot of controls at the same time, yes?” ”That’s right.” ”And her rank? If she had any, that is.” ”Well, she was a squadron leader like me in the 56th, but she left the brigade to fly helicopters for a delivery service. That’s how she got the job on the air-carrier, sometimes not even getting off the craft for days in a row to deliver and reload as much as possible.” ”Stubborn, I’d say.” ”Determined is a word that fits her more.” They laughed and finished their meal with talk of how life on the ship would be for the next eight years. With still half an hour of time before their shift they parted, Jonas saying that he was going to go get some rest. Jante walked along the now dimly lit corridors towards the command section and went by his unused quarters to pick up his heavy green greatcloak. Pulling it around him, he took the corridor towards the staircase and walked down to the small docking bay. Pulling on gloves and removing his headcap he walked through the hatch into the cold bay. His breath steamed as he strode towards the bay door controls. Having switched on the force field he opened the hatch that took up the entire outer wall. He walked to the rim of the floor and looked out at the lights streaking by in the darkness. The bay wasn’t heated like the rest of the starship. Then again, the starship was cold in many places unfrequented by civilian personnel. All the outer docking bays were unheated, as well as all the main hallways and the passages between the three starships. He sat down on the cold deck, knowing that the fabric of his cloak and overall would shield him against frost. This he had done at least once a week for the ten years he had been pilot of the Handrillian, sitting in the docking bay a few minutes before his shift, feeling the cold on his face and ears and looking out on the slowly passing stars. Now they passed in blurs. Having the tolerance to only sit in the bay for ten minutes, he decided to go up into the bridge fifteen minutes early. He pressed a button on his bracer and the red circle disappearing in the roof confirmed that his chair would descend soon. The chair had to pass down fully into the floor before a hatch could close on it up in the bridge. It then passed down, past the open hatch in the ceiling of the bay. Jante jumped into the seat and returned upwards. Feeling the warmth return to his limbs in the airlock below the bridge, he rubbed his headcap warm and put it on. Removing his gloves he put a palm on a scanner to his right, confirming that the First pilot was in his station. His chair thudded into place in a relatively empty bridge and his display showed that the time was a quarter to six in the morning. He looked out the window for a while and then, as the bridge filled with the day shift personnel, he started calling up the shift reports of all sectors. The familiar routine caught him and he hardly noticed when Ayshala entered the room eight hours later, until she told him to get the hell out of there. He spent the evening talking to Charlotte in her room in the hospital and then spent a long and dreamless night sleeping in the chair in the corner.