She was by far the chattiest sailor he’d ever met.
He’d met her when he’d shown up at the brow in the Centax One military traffic center, presenting her with a datacard that stated in no
uncertain terms that he was the passenger she was waiting for, and giving no further information than that. She’d looked at his rumpled black
coveralls and snapped off her sharpest salute.
“Good morning, sir!” she’d said with a beaming smile. “Welcome aboard! We can leave as soon as you’re ready. Is that all the luggage you’ve
brought sir? I’ve got plenty of room, I can fit as much stuff as you want. That’s not very much, sir, just one spacebag. I can give you a hand
with that if you want.”
He’d hefted his ditty bag protectively. “No, that’s all right,” he’d said. “I can handle it myself, thanks.”
She smiled — he got the impression she did a lot of that — and he gave her a once over. Fair-skinned and bright-eyed, with strawberry-
colored hair and a bubbly personality that would’ve been more appropriate to a sub-adult in secondary school rather than a Quartermaster
Third Class (Space Warfare/Aviation Warfare) in the Imperial Navy. “You’re not going to report aboard ship in those coveralls, are you, sir? I
mean, no offense or anything, but it kind of looks like you jumped on a wrinkle grenade to save your ship or something. You can change
uniforms in the cabin if you want to, sir, there’s plenty of room.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be a petty officer?” he’d asked, settling in to the copilot’s seat.
“Yeah, I know!” she smiled again, pleased as punch that he’d noticed. “I got advanced early, I’ve only been in for like two years, and I’m still
not old enough to drink on most worlds, you know? I love it so far, it’s great. It’s soo much fun! How long have you been in, sir? I hope you
don’t think I’m being nosy, sir, I’m not being nosy. I just love this job so much, I get to hear stories from people that’ve been all over the
galaxy. I’m not talking too much, am I, sir? My chief says I talk too much sometimes. Am I bothering you, sir?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. You’re a pretty good pilot, QM3,” he said, nodding in approval as she expertly maneuvered the
shuttle through the designated space traffic lanes leading away from the Centax base.
“Thanks, sir!” she beamed as she reached for the hyperdrive lever. “I’ve been on coxswain duty for a month or two now, and it turns out that
I really like doing it. Usually I’ve got a Boat Officer aboard with me, though, but the orders from AZHAMMERCOM said to pick you up
by myself, you know? That’s weird, I’ve never had that happen before. Do you travel alone often, sir?”
He smiled wanly. “I like traveling alone, yes.”
“Wow, that’s really cool,” she said. “I wish I could travel alone more often — ’course I just did on my over here, didn’t I? You’re headed to
the Ulic, right, sir?”
“HIMS Ulic Qel-Droma, yes,” he said.
“Yeah, she’s pretty neat, sir. I don’t know if you’ve ever been aboard a Defensor before, but she’s pretty big — she’s like 12 klicks long, it’s
crazy. By the way, do you happen to know who this Ulic Qel-Droma guy is? I tried looking the name up on the sub-nets, but I can’t find
anything. The only thing anyone seems to know is that he’s the subject of some opera in High Galactic or something that the Emperor really
likes, so he personally chose the name for the ship, but since nobody speaks High Galactic and there aren’t any summaries or anything on the
sub-net, none of us can figure out who he is.”
“I’ve heard the name before once or twice,” he said. “But I don’t really know who he was. Some Jedi Knight a few thousand years ago, I
think. I think the Emperor wrote a biography of him when he was a Senator.”
“A Jedi? I thought they were some kind of crazy cult or something. Didn’t they try to overthrow the Republic back in the Clone War or
something? I remember they said something about it in school, like they tried to kill the Emperor and that’s why he’s always sick and his face
is all weird and stuff.”
“Not all of them were part of the Cloister Coup, QM3,” he said. “High Inquisitor Tremayne wasn’t, nor was Lord Vader, or Anakin
Skywalker — Lord Vader and Skywalker were both Obi-Wan Kenobi’s apprentices during the war, before Kenobi murdered Skywalker. I
would assume Qel-Droma was no Mace Windu, or else why would the Emperor name a ship after him?”
“Yeah, a big ship, too. She’s like 12 klicks long, you know? Crazy. Oh, hey, have you ever been to Skageroke before? It’s like the biggest
Naval Base in the galaxy. Parfque SectGru’s got its HQ there, and so does the Regional Command, the Oversector Command, and the 5th
Starfleet — that’s why the Ulic’s there. And the base itself’s even bigger than the Ulic — the shipyards are something like a couple hundred
clicks, and the main station itself is so big it’s kind of ridiculous, you know? There’re stories running around that people have gone UA for
months on the station itself. The Ulic’s like barely a quarter its size, it’s crazy.”
She reached forward and depressed the hyperdrive levers, bringing the shuttle out of hyperspace on the edge of the Skageroke system; it was
only a few minutes before they drew near to the outskirts of His Imperial Majesty’s Naval Base Skageroke — the single largest Naval Base in
existence — , sprawling out like a lazy vaapad with its tentacles spread out huge distances in every direction, a veritable swarm of space
traffic around it. The shuttle wasn’t the smallest ship in the area; clouds of nimble TIE fighters skittered about, patrolling the base, escorting
arrivals and departures, being ubiquitous like they always were. The shuttle was a far cry from being the largest, too, as there were hundreds
of frigates, destroyers, and cruisers about, some docked with the yards, some transiting the space lanes, some on roving patrol. Hundreds of
huge freighters and supertankers waited their turn to unload their stores. Dozens upon dozens of Imperial Star Destroyers — more than
enough firepower to turn a civilized world into a wasteland of ash, slag, and fire in a matter of minutes — hovered in space or lay tethered by
powerful tractor beams: Star Destroyers of all kinds, from the common little Imperials, their smaller cousins the Victorys and Venators, the
larger Autokratôrs and Tectors, a pair of truly monstrous Mandators, and there, docked to the main station, was the leviathan Defensor, the
first-rate battleship Ulic Qel-Droma, flagship of the Fifth Imperial Starfleet, shock and awe built into each and every centimeter of her sleek
12.8 kilometers.
He didn’t so much as bat an eye.
“Awww, you’ve been here before,” she said, crestfallen. She’d clearly hoped for some shock. Or at least just a little bit of awe.
“Once or twice,” he said, undoing his straps. “How long until we’re cleared to board the Ulic Qel-Droma?”
She glanced at her console. “Looks like maybe twenty minutes, sir. I’m sorry, but I got the order to come pick you up just this morning, so I
didn’t get a chance to get us an approach slot.”
He shrugged. “That’s all right, it’ll give me a chance to change clothes. I’ll be right back,” he said as he moved into the passenger cabin, closing
the cockpit hatch behind him.
It was a few minutes before he came back. She turned around at the sound of his entry; her pretty blue eyes went wide like beacons and her
fair skin turned white. “Uh... uh...” she said somewhat insensibly.
“Boat ahoy,” came the OOD’s challenge.
“Well, you might want to answer him, QM2,” he said calmly. She did, and it was only a moment or two before she brought the shuttle into
the Ulic’s priority hangar.
She lowered the brow and he walked easily to the bottom, where he stopped. Somebody struck eight bells, and the boatswain’s whistle piped
“Over the Side.” He saluted as he passed through the eight sideboys assembled in two rows — one row on either side — and he
acknowledged the Officer of the Deck.
“I report my arrival aboard ship,” he said, saluting.
“Aye aye, sir,” the OOD said a trifle shakily. “W-welcome aboard, Grand Admiral Makati.”
He’d met her when he’d shown up at the brow in the Centax One military traffic center, presenting her with a datacard that stated in no
uncertain terms that he was the passenger she was waiting for, and giving no further information than that. She’d looked at his rumpled black
coveralls and snapped off her sharpest salute.
“Good morning, sir!” she’d said with a beaming smile. “Welcome aboard! We can leave as soon as you’re ready. Is that all the luggage you’ve
brought sir? I’ve got plenty of room, I can fit as much stuff as you want. That’s not very much, sir, just one spacebag. I can give you a hand
with that if you want.”
He’d hefted his ditty bag protectively. “No, that’s all right,” he’d said. “I can handle it myself, thanks.”
She smiled — he got the impression she did a lot of that — and he gave her a once over. Fair-skinned and bright-eyed, with strawberry-
colored hair and a bubbly personality that would’ve been more appropriate to a sub-adult in secondary school rather than a Quartermaster
Third Class (Space Warfare/Aviation Warfare) in the Imperial Navy. “You’re not going to report aboard ship in those coveralls, are you, sir? I
mean, no offense or anything, but it kind of looks like you jumped on a wrinkle grenade to save your ship or something. You can change
uniforms in the cabin if you want to, sir, there’s plenty of room.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be a petty officer?” he’d asked, settling in to the copilot’s seat.
“Yeah, I know!” she smiled again, pleased as punch that he’d noticed. “I got advanced early, I’ve only been in for like two years, and I’m still
not old enough to drink on most worlds, you know? I love it so far, it’s great. It’s soo much fun! How long have you been in, sir? I hope you
don’t think I’m being nosy, sir, I’m not being nosy. I just love this job so much, I get to hear stories from people that’ve been all over the
galaxy. I’m not talking too much, am I, sir? My chief says I talk too much sometimes. Am I bothering you, sir?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. You’re a pretty good pilot, QM3,” he said, nodding in approval as she expertly maneuvered the
shuttle through the designated space traffic lanes leading away from the Centax base.
“Thanks, sir!” she beamed as she reached for the hyperdrive lever. “I’ve been on coxswain duty for a month or two now, and it turns out that
I really like doing it. Usually I’ve got a Boat Officer aboard with me, though, but the orders from AZHAMMERCOM said to pick you up
by myself, you know? That’s weird, I’ve never had that happen before. Do you travel alone often, sir?”
He smiled wanly. “I like traveling alone, yes.”
“Wow, that’s really cool,” she said. “I wish I could travel alone more often — ’course I just did on my over here, didn’t I? You’re headed to
the Ulic, right, sir?”
“HIMS Ulic Qel-Droma, yes,” he said.
“Yeah, she’s pretty neat, sir. I don’t know if you’ve ever been aboard a Defensor before, but she’s pretty big — she’s like 12 klicks long, it’s
crazy. By the way, do you happen to know who this Ulic Qel-Droma guy is? I tried looking the name up on the sub-nets, but I can’t find
anything. The only thing anyone seems to know is that he’s the subject of some opera in High Galactic or something that the Emperor really
likes, so he personally chose the name for the ship, but since nobody speaks High Galactic and there aren’t any summaries or anything on the
sub-net, none of us can figure out who he is.”
“I’ve heard the name before once or twice,” he said. “But I don’t really know who he was. Some Jedi Knight a few thousand years ago, I
think. I think the Emperor wrote a biography of him when he was a Senator.”
“A Jedi? I thought they were some kind of crazy cult or something. Didn’t they try to overthrow the Republic back in the Clone War or
something? I remember they said something about it in school, like they tried to kill the Emperor and that’s why he’s always sick and his face
is all weird and stuff.”
“Not all of them were part of the Cloister Coup, QM3,” he said. “High Inquisitor Tremayne wasn’t, nor was Lord Vader, or Anakin
Skywalker — Lord Vader and Skywalker were both Obi-Wan Kenobi’s apprentices during the war, before Kenobi murdered Skywalker. I
would assume Qel-Droma was no Mace Windu, or else why would the Emperor name a ship after him?”
“Yeah, a big ship, too. She’s like 12 klicks long, you know? Crazy. Oh, hey, have you ever been to Skageroke before? It’s like the biggest
Naval Base in the galaxy. Parfque SectGru’s got its HQ there, and so does the Regional Command, the Oversector Command, and the 5th
Starfleet — that’s why the Ulic’s there. And the base itself’s even bigger than the Ulic — the shipyards are something like a couple hundred
clicks, and the main station itself is so big it’s kind of ridiculous, you know? There’re stories running around that people have gone UA for
months on the station itself. The Ulic’s like barely a quarter its size, it’s crazy.”
She reached forward and depressed the hyperdrive levers, bringing the shuttle out of hyperspace on the edge of the Skageroke system; it was
only a few minutes before they drew near to the outskirts of His Imperial Majesty’s Naval Base Skageroke — the single largest Naval Base in
existence — , sprawling out like a lazy vaapad with its tentacles spread out huge distances in every direction, a veritable swarm of space
traffic around it. The shuttle wasn’t the smallest ship in the area; clouds of nimble TIE fighters skittered about, patrolling the base, escorting
arrivals and departures, being ubiquitous like they always were. The shuttle was a far cry from being the largest, too, as there were hundreds
of frigates, destroyers, and cruisers about, some docked with the yards, some transiting the space lanes, some on roving patrol. Hundreds of
huge freighters and supertankers waited their turn to unload their stores. Dozens upon dozens of Imperial Star Destroyers — more than
enough firepower to turn a civilized world into a wasteland of ash, slag, and fire in a matter of minutes — hovered in space or lay tethered by
powerful tractor beams: Star Destroyers of all kinds, from the common little Imperials, their smaller cousins the Victorys and Venators, the
larger Autokratôrs and Tectors, a pair of truly monstrous Mandators, and there, docked to the main station, was the leviathan Defensor, the
first-rate battleship Ulic Qel-Droma, flagship of the Fifth Imperial Starfleet, shock and awe built into each and every centimeter of her sleek
12.8 kilometers.
He didn’t so much as bat an eye.
“Awww, you’ve been here before,” she said, crestfallen. She’d clearly hoped for some shock. Or at least just a little bit of awe.
“Once or twice,” he said, undoing his straps. “How long until we’re cleared to board the Ulic Qel-Droma?”
She glanced at her console. “Looks like maybe twenty minutes, sir. I’m sorry, but I got the order to come pick you up just this morning, so I
didn’t get a chance to get us an approach slot.”
He shrugged. “That’s all right, it’ll give me a chance to change clothes. I’ll be right back,” he said as he moved into the passenger cabin, closing
the cockpit hatch behind him.
It was a few minutes before he came back. She turned around at the sound of his entry; her pretty blue eyes went wide like beacons and her
fair skin turned white. “Uh... uh...” she said somewhat insensibly.
“Boat ahoy,” came the OOD’s challenge.
“Well, you might want to answer him, QM2,” he said calmly. She did, and it was only a moment or two before she brought the shuttle into
the Ulic’s priority hangar.
She lowered the brow and he walked easily to the bottom, where he stopped. Somebody struck eight bells, and the boatswain’s whistle piped
“Over the Side.” He saluted as he passed through the eight sideboys assembled in two rows — one row on either side — and he
acknowledged the Officer of the Deck.
“I report my arrival aboard ship,” he said, saluting.
“Aye aye, sir,” the OOD said a trifle shakily. “W-welcome aboard, Grand Admiral Makati.”
Domus Publica
 |  |
Over the Side
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This short story was originally published in November 2004. It was republished on 31 January 2007.