John spent the next three days in retive peace and quiet, deying his return to DEN. Katrina was busy at the office, and did not require him until the rest of her flight got off shore leave, so he stayed tucked away onboard the Phoenix Hawk, away from the loud and busy Atrium, and that crazy bar and grill they called the Mercenary Guild.

  He wasn't idle though. He started to use the gym everyday, it even had an digital assistant that would tailor workouts to your body and limitations. After his work-outs, he would go soak in the tub for a hour, and read the local news on his Link. The media seemed completely government controlled here which he wasn't a fan of, but it wasn't like the media back home was much better these days.

  He would then head to the cockpit and turn on the trainer that was built into the Phoenix Hawk's computer, and shoot at fake ships in a rather immersive simution. Even the cockpit windows turned into big monitors, and he could see the 'enemies' attacking him. It didn't give him the G-Forces like he experienced when actually flying, but at least he knew how to operate his weapons now. He wasn't that great with them, but like everything, time and experience would help him improve.

  On the morning of the fourth day, John was enjoying his morning coffee when his Link beeped. It was an incoming call from Katrina. He tapped a button and hung up by accident.

  "Whoops...now how do I call her back..." he said and fiddled around with the screen, accidently hanging up on her again.

  She is going to kill me.

  When she called back a third time, he clicked the right button.

  "Good Morning Lieutenant."

  "Why did you keep hanging up on me."

  "That was the first call I ever received, I hit the wrong button, then when I went to call you back, I hung up on you again." He already felt like an idiot, but it wasn't like there was a convincing lie to say in this situation.

  *Tsk*

  "Fine, whatever. Anyways, I am sending you a docket over. Review it, and prepare to receive our fighters and support crew this afternoon. We will embark today and depart tomorrow morning for a raid on the pirate base. All the mission details are in the docket."

  "Okay then. I have never embarked anyone before, do you need me to do anything other than open my doors up?" He asked. His knowledge from his skill only told him to keep the ship on a steady course when unching and nding craft, not what to do when he was docked.

  "Yeah that is fine. Normally, we do this in space, but your bays appear rger than we normally use so we should be fine bringing them in with your tractor controls. We also hired a handful of mercs, they will be coming onboard at the same time, so your bays will be full. Anyways Captain, I am just heading in to a meeting. Take care."

  She hung up.

  "What are tractor controls?" He said aloud. He didn't think his time operating a John Deere was the answer here, so he needed to find out.

  He finished his coffee and made his way up to the cockpit. He only had a couple hours before they started bringing their spacecraft on board, and he just hoped there was some sort of simutor for pying with 'tractors'.

  Luckily there was a simutor for that, and John pyed around with it for two hours before he felt comfortable enough to 'Wing it' with real ships. In fact, it didn't take him long at all to get it down pat, the whole process had a lot of fail-safes, preventing the operator from ramming a ship accidently into the side of the hanger. It was honestly almost something he thought could have been automated completely.

  Something tickled his mind when he thought about that, but an incoming call on his Link diverted his attention.

  "Hello Lieutenant." He answered, knowing it was business time, not social time. When they were sharing drinks, she wanted him to call her by name, but when she was in uniform, she seemed to appreciate being called her rank.

  "Afternoon Captain. We will be coming in fifteen minutes. We will be on comms channel 4. Did you read the docket?"

  "Briefly. You want your ship up front in bay one, and load the Mercs into the rger bays in the rear?" He had looked over it, but was too busy pying with his tractor simutor to read all the mission details. He figured he had the rest of the day to review that.

  "You got it, though I expect you to know that information by heart before we depart. We have a lot of procedures you need to know incase we need to change pns on the fly. This is your first time working with the INP, so I don't expect everything to be perfect, but I do expect you to do your best to keep us safe."

  "Right." He suddenly didn't feel so good about this mission. This might be an bad idea.

  "All right, we will be there shortly. Take care."

  "See you soon."

  He hung up the Link and stared into the distance.

  In Highschool of the Dead, he killed zombies easily enough, but they were dumb, fairly slow, and he was smart enough not to make a ton of noise. He still ended up bit, and would die if he didn't unlock his mana or find some other way to become immune to that virus.

  In The Great Cleric, he trained his magic ability hard, and managed to get in a safe spot, but according to Alec, there were a lot of major events on the horizon, with demons and other deadly things around.

  In StarCraft, well, his throat was ripped out, so not a lot needed to be said there.

  Now here in Infinite Frontiers, he was about to go into a space battle, not with just his life on the line, but over a dozen other people under his care.

  Should he stick it out here, see if he can progress this story further, or should he retreat now, and see if he can grow a little bit stronger first then return.

  He thought about it for a few minutes then it dawned on him.

  "Wait a sec, in this world, it's my ship that takes the pounding, not me. As long as I am strapped in, my back should be fine. And these people are professional pilots who fight regurly, as long as I don't do something dumb like shoot them, then things should work out."

  With that thought, he opened his bay doors and got ready to receive his new crew.

  A lot of things started happening all at once and John was immediately overwhelmed.

  First, the "Ground Crews" arrived, knocking at his ships hatch and calling up to the cockpit, wanting to come aboard and be guided to their rooms. Then his radio went off, with the first fighter requesting docking permission, then his Link starting pinging, with messages from the Station Cargo Master about several deliveries awaiting his approval. Then multiple pilots were requesting approval to dock, and another message, then some sensors started pinging loud warning noises throughout the cockpit for some reason.

  "HOLY SHIT! Slow the fuck down. I am just one guy, what clown made a schedule to do everything at once?" John shouted out in his cockpit to no one in particur. Unfortunately his radio was hot and that broadcasted out to anyone listening on Channel 4.

  K- [That would be me Captain. Do you have a problem with being efficient?] Came Katrina's voice across the radio, her icy tone a clear shift from her normally jazzy voice.

  J - [Yes I fucking do when it isn't. I told you I was one person, not a crew. I cannot give your ground crews a guide, while bringing in pilots, and inspecting cargo simultaneously. If you wanted this all done yesterday, fucking pn for it. If this is how you pn to run your region of the Empire when you take over from your Daddy, then I am moving clear across it to stay far away from this bloody gong show.] He shouted across the radio.

  There was silence for a moment then ughter burst across the comms.

  A - [BWAHAHAHAHA! God's I have been waiting for someone to take her down a peg or two. You're alright Captain.]

  K - [Who was that! Wait Ashellivelian is that you. Shut your trap before I shut it for you. Be happy I even gave you another contract.]

  A -[HAHAHA Right, Right of course 'My Lady' whatever you say. Just killing time you know, floating here, burning fuel on your dime.]

  K - [GRRRRR. Why I oughtta-]

  J - [ENOUGH BOTH OF YOU. Clear the comms and let me get your ships on board. Your ground crews and whatever you sent me can wait. Ashellvelly-belly or whatever your name is, deal with this ter. Katrina, you and I will have words after. Now shut up and let me get this done. And why is there a proximity arm going off. Get your ship away from my engines and in line whoever that is.]

  Male Voice - [Pffft! Ashellvelly-Belly]

  J - [Shut it who ever that is else I'll fire some of these Mark VIII Phased Array Emitters in your general direction. I have had it up to here with the bullshit today, and you're not even onboard yet.]

  MV - [Sorry, Yes Captain]

  And with that, the start of John's first mission began. Herding cats.

  After an hour, John managed to get all twelve craft loaded into the hanger. He then got up and opened the hatch to escort the dozen ground crew led by a older woman named Flight Sergeant Marlene Baker. She was about five foot seven, her crows feet made her look around fifty, but she was quite attractive. She had an athletic build, with olive coloured skin, hazel eyes and salt and pepper hair. Her grey jumpsuit fit her curvy figure nicely, doing nothing to hide the D Cups underneath or her shapely ass. She led eleven other people, with only two guys in the bunch, all with rge bags and toolkits.

  He led them to the crew quarters area first, so they could drop off their gear, then out to the hanger. Half of them broke off then, to go check on the fighters and secure them for transport, while the remainder of the crew all followed him back to the elevator, down to the cargo bay. They asked him a few questions but for the most part only chatted among themselves quietly. Every single one of them seemed deferential to him, even the sergeant.

  They must have sensed his dark mood.

  In the cargo bay, he brought the deliveries in, just like he did for the clothing. Large crates of gear ran down the conveyer belt, and in his pissed off state of mind, he made sure he inspected every single thing they brought on board, even if he didn't know what he was looking at. If they thought he was being a jerk about it he didn't care. If their boss was going to be piss poor managing his time, he had no qualms about wasting theirs.

  After two more hours and some change, he was finally done. With Marlene in tow, he moved back up to hanger to where the pilots had all gathered on the walkway. Of the mercs, there were two men, one he recognized with his weird pink getup and the big titty goth girl beside him. The other guy was a dwarf, standing next to two female dwarfs, all with a family resembnce if he had to guess from the quick gnce he took. There was also the damn elf that spilled beer on him at the guild, standing beside the dwarves.

  Fucking great. I get the vilge drunk on my ship too.

  Of the eight military pilots, every single one of them were female, all of middling heights, fit, attractive, and hiding behind Katrina.

  "I have four, two person rooms up one deck meant for officers, otherwise there are two, fifty man rooms just past those doors over there. The Galley is on this deck among other things. Stay out of my cockpit and the captains quarters unless it is a god damn emergency. And don't enter the Armoury, Vehicle Storage, or Engineering unless the ship is being bloody boarded or on fire.

  Lieutenant Eligan, I will let you figure out your staff's and the merc's sleeping arrangements, come see me in two hours. And no fucking alcohol for the elf, I don't feel like doing undry again." John barked at them, recalling his time in the army as a young man.

  "I'll be in my quarters." He finished and stormed off. He still hadn't cooled off from her piss poor pnning.

  After John left, Marlene move over to Katrina. "Holy shit Ma'am, where did you find this guy? That was the most thorough inspection I have ever had on my equipment. And the way he commands, it was like he was born to it. I feel like I am in basic training again. I thought you said he was nice and polite."

  "He...he was..." She replied, looking in the direction John went. "He definitely is a Captain."

  The Elf, Ashellivelian or Ash to her friends, was also looking the way John left, now realizing the 'handsome merchant' was a fellow mercenary with his own capital ship. Sober now, the memories from a few nights ago suddenly returning, she wished she could crawl under a table and die. The one time she cut loose and drank in over a year and she ends up embarrassing herself in front of someone who deserved the title of Captain and could be her proverbal taxi to the Gold Ranks.

  John did not know this, but in the Kestrel Empire, and in all humanoid empires, the title Captain is not a middling military rank. It was something much more, enshrined into gactic w. Simir to the old traditional Maritime Law on Earth, once one sets foot on a Captain's ship, his word was w, for a commoner, a mercenary, a soldier or even a noble. No one disobeys the Captain while on their ship.