Captain Sir Nathan Wright KCS DSO MC
Unity Colony
Unity Star System, Andromeda
Monday 6th August 2694 (Imperial Standard Time)
“Another one, Captain?”
Sir Nathan Wright, Knight Commander of the Sword, glanced up at the bartender’s question and nodded his assent, watching as the young woman poured him another glass of Karin Reserve Whisky, on the rocks, the colourful liquid dancing in the class as she topped up the ice. The Union was a bar on Unity Colony that was, generally, quite popular with the senior officers of the Imperial Military stationed out in the Andromeda Galaxy, as such it wasn’t unusual for its senior officer, acting in any event, to be here. Of course, in the past few weeks Wright had frequented the Union far more regularly than he had before; his elation at the return of his beloved had been quickly replaced by the harsh reality of what had happened to her. He had meant what he had said when he had fully meant his vows and intended to honour them, but the reality of what had happened was far more mentally challenging than he had anticipated; as such after his duty shifts he had found himself finding solace in the bottle from the cruel joke that the universe had decided to play on him; returning his love only to have her now be the same person anymore.
It was a well-kept secret amongst the Expedition’s senior officers, it’s Captains and Colonels, that if they needed to speak to their acting commander he could usually be found at the Union. The one exception to this was Lorana herself; in an unspoken agreement, she was being kept out of the loop. Everyone could appreciate what Wright was going through; just through their imagination, and anyone with any knowledge of a Cresian bond could likewise take a guess at how badly that must have affected the man. There were no counselling staff out at Unity Colony either; before the expedition had gone public they had been deemed a luxury that would have been too likely to compromise the secrecy which surrounded the entire affair, whereas afterwards they had been overlooked by each and every crisis that had swirled around the entire Colony ever since its founding. Of course, whether or not Wright would even have engaged the services of a Counsellor even if one had been present was uncertain.
There was a degree of a gulf forming between the Imperial Navy and the Royal Cresian Navy, Nathan Wright was one of their own and, more importantly, he was the hero of Unity Colony; every man and woman from the Terran Empire stationed out here looked up to him immensely. That his Cresian wife would have the indecency to come back from the dead and not remember him, inflicting the sort of pain that was, did not go down well with them. It was illogical in the extreme of course, but that didn’t stop many of them feeling it, despite Wright’s best efforts to the contrary. Of course the fact that, unless things changed, it would only get worse was hardly helping matters in the slightest.
None, however, would ever say that Wright had shirked his duties over the past few months; indeed, many suggested that running what was left of the shattered Unity Task Force was the main thing keeping him going at this point. Of course it helped that Unity Task Force had always been made up with some of the Imperial Navy’s best and brightest, and each ship and the station was largely capable of running its own affairs without too much direct input from their acting commander, but even then no piece of paperwork went unreturned and no routine inspection was ignored or anything of that nature. If he was in uniform and on duty it was almost like Wright was his old self; it was only when he stopped being on duty, either for sleep or if his staff insisted he take some down time, that Wright shrunk into himself. It was not healthy, nothing about any of this was, but it was the situation he found himself in and he was fortunate that his friends and colleagues were doing everything they could; indeed the Union pub itself was doing its bit by ensuring that Wright’s drowning of his sorrows was not adversely impacting his credit count.
Wright almost wished he had been able to head back to the Milky Way himself with news of the catastrophe, at least that way he would have been able to avoid the pain every time he saw the lack of love in the eyes of Lorana, avoid every argument the pair regularly had now, but as acting commander he could not leave. It would have torn him up to leave; but it would have been better than staying.
“I thought I’d find you here,” A female voice said wryly.
Wright glanced up and watched as Superintendent Dame Jennifer Fox of the Imperial Star Patrol, the commander of the Cutter Division of ISF Andromeda, slid onto the barstool beside him. She was dressed, like many of the other patrons of the Union, in a uniform; specifically, the service dress uniform on the Imperial Star Patrol, a variant of the Imperial Security Force’s service dress uniform. As one of the senior law enforcement officers on Unity Colony, and in command of Star Patrol assets, the two had always worked closely together, nor even more so that Wright was the acting command of the naval task force. Even with the Asgar threat still out there, neutered perhaps but still present, there was still a crime rate in Epsilon Alpha and whilst the destruction of the wormhole may have stymied their ability to make a profit, smuggling remained a problem. One that the Star Patrol had been working diligently to try and resolve; it wasn’t easy of course; there was just so much space and so few, comparatively, Star Patrol assets to cover the entire orbital space.
“As always,” Wright said dryly. “You were looking for me?”
“I was; my people have got a lead on one of the smugglers ships, but we need to catch them in the act; I need you to have your ships casually vacate a given sector of the orbital,” Fox replied by means of explanation. “We need to clear the space in order to allow the smugglers to think they’re clear, then we’ll jump my cutters in on them and catch them in the act.”
“Sounds like a fool proof plan,” Wright nodded. “I’ll cut the orders as soon as I get back to my ship.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Fox smiled, accepting her drink, a gin and tonic, from the bartender. “How are you doing, Nathan?”
“I’m still here; drowning myself in either paperwork or Karin Whisky; anything to avoid having to think about anything else; both are as effective, however they’re not exactly mutually compatible,” Wright replied with a very wry tone, glancing across at the Star Patrol officer. “If I could get away with either drinking whisky on duty, or doing my paperwork at the bar, I probably would; and not move from either location; however it’s generally frowned upon to do either.”
“Indeed,” Fox replied dryly. “Well, paperwork is mind-numbing and Karin Whisky is good for not remembering much of everything, so I’d say you’re set.”
Fox paused hesitantly.
“But it’s not healthy, Nathan,” She added. “Your liver is going to be thanking you if you keep this up.”
“Fortunately for me I am sure the miracles of modern medicine will stand me in good stead,” Wright replied.
“Don’t be flippant, you know it’s not good for you,” Fox said sharply.
“I’m not sure I care all that much at this point, Jen,” Wright said with a scowl. “The universe seems to like playing cruel jokes on me, why don’t we try tempting fate.”
“I swear if I wasn’t in uniform I’d try and slap some sense into you,” Fox said darkly. “I know what you’re going through can’t be easy, but you need to try and get over her; she’s just hurting you.”
“How do you get over someone you’re married to? Who you loved and you watched die and who came back?” Wright asked with sigh. “If you tell me how I do that, Jennifer, I’ll get over her; but until you can do that I’ll stick to my Whisky.”
“Fair enough,” Fox sighed, downing the last of her drink. “Just remember that my door is always open if you manage to drag yourself away from your Whisky and decide you want to talk.”
“I will,” Wright promised.
“Good,” Fox nodded. “Well, I’ve got a raid to plan; I’ll keep you in the look… Goodnight, Captain.”
“Goodnight, Superintendant.”
