Parts and Passions

By Charissa Dufour

As the crews of the Caprice and Lenore struggle to keep the damaged ships in orbit around an alien planet and find a way back to the Sol System, Bit must come to terms with a life-altering injury. Can the crews and the aliens below come together to find tech in the jungles to get them home, or will danger and romantic entanglements ruin their hopes?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charissa Dufour
• Release date: Apr 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005898922

Charissa Dufour

My journey to become a writer began in 8th grade, when I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and pulled from school to recover. During this time, I was left alone for hours on end and it was then that I discovered new friends within the pages of books. I also learned the blessing of creating my own friends by writing down the stories that plagued my lonely mind—as demented as that sounds. Therefore at the ripe age of fourteen, I wrote my first novel. It sucked! But I kept going and now I am an Indie Author with numerous books out. I never imagined that first horrible novel about a man who crash landed on his long lost home world would turn into a lifelong passion.I now live in Chicago, IL with my amazing husband and two rambunctious kittens, Groot and Rocket.

Book preview

Chapter One

Oden watched Evan lean toward the screen, as though that would enhance the details of the image. Okay, I… don’t… see a landing platform.

Oden bent over his shoulder, patting it and getting in the other pilot’s space. That. There.

That’s no platform…

You say what I think you’re gonna say, I’ll smack you.

Evan glanced up at Oden, confusion written on his features. Huh? You are so weird. Evan’s tone dropped to a mutter. And this is the ghost Bit left me for?

You tap that?

Evan nodded, still scanning the screen to look for the real landing platform.

I wouldn’t call what you two did ‘dating,’ Jack added from his spot beyond Evan’s other shoulder.

Evan made a little chuckling noise.

Oden is right. Mac cut off the sidetracked conversation. That’s our landing platform.

That can’t be more than two-hundred meters wide.

Phetten’ close. Oden patted Evan on the shoulder again, knowing it annoyed him. No more’n a small engine, a hallway, and three docking arms.

Fantastic. Evan twitched his shoulder, trying to give Oden a hint, which was ignored.

Think you can dock with the port airlock? Without the proper bridge controls? Jack tilted his head, much like Evan, as though that would improve their view on the single screen they were using as a forward display in the little reading room which now acted as a bridge.

‘Course, Captain. Evan grinned up at Oden as though to poke the bear.

Might be bumpy, agreed Oden. But I’ve no doubt your guy can get ‘er done.

Evan’s grin faded as the landing platform came into focus on the screen via one of the few forward cameras still working. No one was really surprised to see the Lenore already attached to it. The old ship was at least five times the size of the one Oden had designed and built shortly after finding Nai. It wasn’t much, but he had never imagined a ship the size of the Caprice would need to use it. He had been literal when he described it as a hallway with three docking arms.

Oden watched as Evan made all the right moves, despite controlling the entire ship with nothing more than a PS68 controller and a single mousepad. He’d never admit it to the other man, but Oden wasn’t so sure he could have done any better. As he watched, the door to the make-shift bridge slid open. Forrest walked in, his dislocated shoulder in a sling that had long faded from white to brownish gray. Dark circles lined his eyes, and all ten of his fingers—including the ones hanging from the sling—were scraped and bloodied. He held a pad which he slapped into Jack’s outstretched hand.

Your list. He didn’t wait for a reply, but turned as if on autopilot and headed back for the door.

Oh, this isn’t too long, Jack said, frowning.

Forrest turned back, his eyelids drooped over his eyes. Oh. Uh. No, that’s the list of what’s working.

The whole room seemed to hold its breath before Jack said, Ah. Yeah, that sounds more accurate. Forrest, go get some rest. I bet the other Forrest, or whatever you call him, can come over and lend a hand.

Mac gave a single nod.

Not on your life, Forrest said. He may know alien technology, but he doesn’t know the Caprice.

Jack raised up his hand. While true, he is as smart as you are. Jack winked. And could be of help… alongside you.

Forrest stared at Jack for a moment, the fatigue visibly growing on his features. Fine. Let me get a few hours sleep. Then he can come over and lend a hand.

Jack nodded. ‘Kay. The engineer trudged out of the bridge and the door slid shut. Right, how we doing, Evan?

Almost there, Captain.

The room descended into silence as they watched Evan work. He was just turning away to make a second pass at the approach when the door again slid open. Dr. Cannon entered, still dressed in what she’d been wearing during the battle—though it was now stained with red up her arms, across her knees, and splattered here and there. It’s your turn, Jack, she announced at the doorway.

I’m fine. Besides, I need to stay here and oversee the docking.

I can do that. Mac waved from his place beside Oden.

Not that Evan needs to be overseen, Evan muttered to himself.

You don’t know the Caprice. Jack was aware of the hypocrisy in his statement after having talked with Forrest.

No better’n your pilot does while flying off a PS68.

Again, not that Evan needs to be overseen. Oden struggled not to smile at the other pilot.

Not to mention, it’s time for the captain to lead by example, added Rida.

Jack raised his hands in surrender. Okay, okay. I know when I’m beat. Mac, you’ve got the… bridge.

C’mon, Oden, added the doctor. You too.

What?

You need another breathing treatment or your lungs will never recover.

Oden and Jack followed the doctor out of the bridge, looking more like children on their way to the headmaster than two grown warriors. They crossed the hall to the elevator and took it down to Level Four, where most of the damage had been done.

Those crew members not confined to the medbay had spent the last twenty-four hours filling the airlock with dead alien bodies and sending them to their final resting place in the stars. They had no other options to dispose of the corpses, and a fraction of Jack’s mind worried that they might be infringing on the aliens’ religious beliefs. In the end, he decided any deity who couldn’t provide grace wasn’t one worth worrying about.

As they crossed from the lift to the door of sickbay, Jack spotted Charlie helping Terin right one of the battered hydroponic units. Charlie’s injured arm hung in a sling, waiting for the moment the doctor could focus on such a mundane procedure as setting a fracture. Still, despite the pain, Charlie kept working on whatever task needed to be done—no one was above hoisting a dead body or mopping up brown hydro-water.

Jack and Oden followed Rida into the sickbay, which now looked more like a M.A.S.H. unit. The room came with three medical beds, which were taken up with the most serious cases. On the floor, though, lay numerous mattresses—pillaged from the cabins—filled with more injured. There wasn’t anyone on the crew who had escaped without at least severe cuts and bruises, unless the scientists still trapped in the science department had escaped unscathed, and that was still a mystery.

Bit, of course, occupied one of the official beds, as did Reese. It was Zhuam who rested on the precious third bed. He had been crushed by one of the hydroponics bays, a jagged piece of metal slicing into his gut. Had they not found him immediately after the battle, he would have likely bled out. In fact, he was the first patient to be seen by the doctor while the medics triaged the rest of the crew.

With a quick glance, Jack spotted Wic, Israel, Rhian, Bensen, and Kyle lying on the floor. Most of them were asleep, but he caught a few pairs of open eyes. Unlike the other battered members of the crew, those in sickbay were not able or not allowed to help with the clean up and repairs.

Rida motioned for either Jack or Oden to take a seat on what had previously been the doctor’s stool, but now appeared to be the exam table. Jack was the closest, and so he obeyed. Oden, Rida said as her hands mechanically began to unbutton Jack’s shirt. Go over to Daxton and get your breathing treatment. He can set that one up.

How are the others? Jack asked to distract himself from what she was doing—he had one laser shot wound on his chest. Not deep, but painful.

Not good. Neither are our supplies. We aren’t equipped for taking on whole armies. We’re gonna have to start finding alternative forms of medicine out here.

Jack nodded. Have you gotten any sleep?

After I get you two sorted, I’m going to go get some sleep before I perform the next surgery.

What’s the next surgery? I haven’t seen a report from you on the crew’s injuries.

Some of that is ‘cause I haven’t written a report.

Jack couldn’t help but smile. Fair enough. How about you tell me now and we’ll call that good?

Sounds good. She sounded relieved. The doctor glanced over her shoulder as though struggling to decide where to start. Reese is showing signs of hearing loss from the blast. Until I get everyone stable, determining the exact cause will have to wait, but I will likely be able to repair it. Zhuam has undergone his surgery and is stable, but the piece of metal cut into his large intestine, spilling its contents into his stomach cavity. We’re gonna have…

Jack held up his hand. How about with a little less detail?

Rida shrugged as though she couldn’t quite understand why, but continued. He will likely struggle with an infection. Let’s see, Israel has an infection in his broken leg. Bensen has a GSW to the shoulder. Ferex was shot in the leg. Charlie broke his arm. That will be a simple set and cast once I get to it. Kyle, on the other hand, has a comminuted break, so that will take surgery. And Randal broke his collarbone. Still haven’t decided if it will take surgery or not. Everyone else has bumps, bruises, or burns.

Jack nodded. We’re a mess. How is Bit?

Physically stable…

But morally bankrupt, Bit cried from her bed, causing more than one patient to stir in their efforts to sleep.

Rida let out a slow, calculated sigh. She kept her voice low. See? It’s like she doesn’t actually believe that she’s paralyzed. Or doesn’t care.

Jack nodded, unsure how to snap Bit out of her strange mental state. Problem was, he had more pressing matters to attend to. He gave her a tired nod.

There’s more.

More? How could there be more?

About Bit. I’ve been studying her brain and dorsal posterior insula…

Remember who you’re talking to.

Right. The part of the brain that deals with pain.

Jack nodded. Okay. What about it?

It’s… it’s like it’s dying. I’ve never seen anything like it before. If my hypothesis is correct, the more pain she feels the more the dorsal posterior insula dies… the less she recognizes pain.

Meaning?

Meaning the more pain she experiences the less she feels pain.

Jack shrugged. Sounds nice.

No. Not nice. Not nice at all. She can’t learn that the stove is hot.

She already knows the stove is hot, Doctor.

Rida sighed. You’re not getting the point. How can she listen to her body if her body no longer speaks to her? She can’t tell when her body has had enough.

Jack started to see the picture she was painting. Maybe it’s a good thing she can’t walk.

The doctor didn’t reply.

Chapter Two

Forrest emerged from his cabin, still feeling as though he could sleep the clock around despite the five hours he’d forced upon himself. Across the hall, he spotted the young medic, banging her small fist against her own door, as though that might help. C’mon, she muttered under her breath.

Problem?

She turned to look at him, showing the deep exhaustion he understood all too well. I can’t get my code to work. Her voice broke.

Forrest recognized the moment—too tired to think clearly; too tired to control her shaking fingers; and too tired keep control of her emotions. He had neared the same moment before his sleep. How long you been awake?

Uh… He could see the wheels turning in her head, but no answer coming to her. Uh…

Forrest chuckled. Never mind. What’s your code?

She told him, and he carefully tapped the tiny keys. The door beeped and slid open. Mareyia put her hand in its way to keep it open, not falling in like Forrest had expected. Are we gonna make it?

Without thinking about it, he reached out and gripped her shoulder, just below a bruise that ran from her collarbone up along her neck. They all sported strange bruises from the fight. Of course. We’re docked and orbiting a safe planet. This strange doppelgänger crew is helping us. It’ll be okay.

She didn’t look convinced. I hope you’re right.

Forrest watched until her door shut behind her, then turned and headed for the aft lifts that would take him up to the first and second decks. He hit the button for Deck Two. A second later, the door slid open to the noise of chattering voices. By the sounds of it, Forrest was the last person to arrive.

He entered the conference room to find it already full. The leaders of each department were there, along with Mac, Cal, and the Lenore’s copy of himself who, evidently, was going by their last name: Eleni. At least it helped with the confusion. His doppelgänger looked tired. Not the tired of up for twenty-four-plus hours, but rather the long, drawn out weariness of eight years in enemy space.

Forrest, take a seat, Jack ordered from the head of the table.

Forrest obeyed, sitting opposite himself. The three from the Lenore sat on the far side, with Jack at one end and Randal at the other—draped in a sling much like his own. Dr. Emerick Irwin—head of the science department—and Sage Lurz—head of the Logistics Department, a position she shared with Vance—sat on the same side as Forrest. He scurried into his seat, worried they had been waiting for him.

Jack folded his hands on the table and took a moment to glance at each person in turn, including the men from the Lenore. I think we can all agree we are enduring some rather unprecedented times—both for Mac and his crew, and for the crew of the Caprice. We have a number of issues demanding our attention: the repairs needed on both ships though primarily the Caprice; the issue of our ruined food supplies; our numerous injured; and, of course, how in the world either crew is ever going to get back to the Sol System to warn the human race.

No small feat. Mac glanced at everyone, much like Jack had done.

I would like to add to that list, stated Dr. Irwin in an officious tone. My crew members who are currently trapped with a dead body in the science department.

Of course, Dr. Irwin. Jack sounded a little more dismissive than he intended, or so Forrest suspected.

We are on the clock. After all, they have run out of food.

They are as close to the top of my list as they can be. First, though, I have to make sure the ship is fully airtight and that our life support is stable. Once both of those are completed, they will be my priority.

What about, until that time, interrupted Randal. We resupply them with June?

What?

How’s that?

Who’s June ‘gain?

What do you mean, Randal? Jack cut off the various voices that wanted to know what was going on. How can we use June?

She can fit through the air ducts. She can push supplies through to them and drop them down.

I wouldn’t send raw eggs, Cal whispered to Eleni; everyone ignored him.

Fine. Sage, ask June to get supplies to them. That will give us a little time. They may not be comfortable, but they’ll at least not be hungry.

Sage nodded.

What about your wounded? Mac asked. I don’t see that pretty doctor girl here.

I told her not to come. She has enough work to do without sitting in a meeting. The basics are we have a lot of wounded and are going through our medical supplies far faster than we ever could have predicted. She says just a few more battles like that and she’ll have to start learning old-fashioned ways of doing things since we’ll be out of supplies like Wound Seal and many of our antibiotics.

More than one person took a deep breath, though Mac’s crew didn’t seem as put out by it. Forrest suspected they had been making do a lot longer than anyone liked to admit. Mac confirmed Forrest’s thoughts. We’ve been using tricks for years now.

And local mechanical techniques, added Eleni.

Forrest narrowed his eyes as he fought to remain silent. His doppelgänger was only his competition if he made him so—or so he told himself on repeat. Yeah. I look forward to seeing how they do things. The words were out of his mouth before he knew it. Each one tasted like a lie, and his other-self knew it. Forrest read it clear as writing on Eleni's face.

Of course, my crew is eager to get to the surface, said Mac. I would suggest getting as many of your crew down to the surface too. Including your wounded. They might heal better with real air. And either way, the fewer on the ship the fewer people trying to breathe with an iffy life support.

Jack nodded. I’ll discuss it with the doctor.

You can also trade the locals for supplies. You mentioned a food issue. Cal kept his eyes on Jack.

What do we have to trade that they would want? asked Jack.

That we can afford to give up, added Sage.

The three men across the table grinned in unison.

What? Sage sounded just as confused as Forrest.

Sperm, Sweetheart. Sperm. Mac leaned back in his seat, looking proud as punch, and gave her a wink. We trade our sperm, or we did before they had enough of ours. He jabbed his thumb at the members of his own crew.

So that’s why Oden has a daughter? asked Jack before Forrest could manage it.

The three men grinned again, but it was Cal who spoke. No, no. We all have biological offspring on that planet. Oden has a daughter. He actually made a relationship with Mau, a local woman.

So he’s married? Forrest asked, thinking of Bit.

Nah, nothin’ like that, replied his other self. The Su-Lang don’t have anything like marriage. They believe in offspring. Not love and whatnot. In fact, they don’t have a word for father. They think Oden is weird for wantin’ to have a relationship with his daughter. The men there just make babies.

Sounds nice, Dr. Irwin said, catching startled looks from everyone else. What? I’m not very good with kids.

Forrest struggle to hide his laugh. Mac slapped his hand down on the table, interrupting their moment of lighthearted humor. About going to the phetten surface. My people are startin’ to transfer down planet-side in the morning. I would suggest, Jack, coming with us, along with a few others to make introductions.

Jack nodded. Okay. I’ll decide on a group and meet in… er… port at oh-seven-hundred?

Agreed, replied Mac. And let us know if you need shit or whatever. Eleni, you gonna stay on and talk to… yourself?

Eleni nodded, winking at Forrest.

Right. Well, Cockwabbles, he pretended to tip a hat toward Jack. Until tomorrow. Mac slapped the table again and stood up.

It was only then that Forrest noticed the bedraggled state of the other men’s clothing. In fact, he recognized the shirt Eleni wore. Of course, he remembered it being far brighter, without patches, and without the ragged edges. Mac wore a jacket Forrest thought was once bright red. In fact, if he had to guess, he suspected it was one of the Lenore’s old crew jackets. Now, though, it was more brown—what he could see of it. A few dozen patches covered it, along with studs, and bits and baubles, likely spoils from various places they had been. His patchwork jacket and thick beard made him look like a true pirate.

Everyone else stood up with him. Forrest shook his head, realizing he had been staring.

By the way, how’s our girl, Bit, doing? Mac asked as though he intended to stay and chat.

Struggling, replied Jack. Doesn’t seem ready to admit her life has been transformed.

Shit. Not a good place to be. You should bring her along. She’s stable enough. Trust me, Jackie-Boy, me and my men had to face something very similar back when we first got it that we weren’t in the Sol anymore. And never would be again.

She’s pretty hurt. Jack folded his arms over his chest.

Not sayin’ she ain’t. But it won’t hurt’r none to get to the surface. I’m just sayin’ my boys know a bit about what she’s goin’ through.

Jack pursed his lips and nodded. I’ll think about it.

Mac slapped him on the back hard enough to force Jack to take a step toward the conference table. Jack gave him something between a grin and a grimace. C’mon, Cal. We’ll see you later, Eleni.

Sage and Irwin had already left, likely to work out sending June with food to those trapped behind the concave door in the science department. Randal stepped into the corner to wait for Jack while Mac and Cal left the room, their eyes averted from Randal. Forrest wondered what had happened to the doppelgänger in their alternate history. Something bad enough they couldn’t even look at Randal. He tucked that question aside.

C’mon, he said to his other self.

Lead the way. I know you have a list longer than your arm. Was thinking maybe I could just work on the door to the science department. That way I stay out of your hair.

Forrest turned back to look at Eleni, a frown pulling his brows downward. You don’t want to get into the schematics and learn about the Caprice? Work on the engine and whatnot?

Oh, I want to… but I can tell you’re worried about it. You don’t trust me. Which I get. I don’t really trust you. So let me work on something that needs to get done, but has nothing to do with, you know, your lady’s special bits. Forrest’s doppelgänger smiled at him, and to his astonishment, he smiled back.

Truth was, he didn’t want Eleni anywhere near the Caprice’s special bits. It was a good compromise. In fact, he wished he’d thought of it first. Okay. I’ll get you a schematic of the wall in question. Obviously the science department has a lot of stuff you don’t want to hit with a plasma cutter.

I bet.

Forrest grinned. Maybe he could like the other Forrest Eleni… if he just gave him a shot.

Chapter Three

Bit’s face twitched with emotion. Couldn't the characters just talk to each other? Admit how they feel? She’d been up half the night reading Persuasion, an ancient classic by someone named Jane Austen. It wasn’t until the medic took away her pad that she finally agreed to sleep. Now, the medbay was alive with early morning activity and she had her pad back.