Melissa is the enthusiastic volunteer to keep me company for the next three days, causing some odd looks and some laughing around the shop. She quickly realizes that my job is often more boring that hers, and that I’m on supervisor duty like the engineering chiefs.
My team has filled the fab lab with scrap, even after moving equipment around, and we have no hope of catching up until the second reclamator comes online. I order my teams to switch to deconstructing the inside of propulsion and to start stacking pieces next to the bulkhead to the aft machinery spaces. They rightly ask how they’re going to get it back to the reclamators, but I told them that was my problem to solve. I want to build a sundering table.
“I still can’t believe you have actual Magic. I’d be cross with you if the swarm you infected me with wasn’t making me better at everything.”
“I mean, there had to be some benefit to inviting science to have its way with me.”
“Ooh, ooh, I volunteer to be science!” I can’t help but laugh at that. I would let her too, but it doesn’t seem to have been a priority for either of us.
“You’re soo funny Mel. What are you having your swarm focus on?”
“Me. Obviously. More specifically healing and recovery. I’m probably going to focus on bio optimization next. Needing less food, water, and sleep sounds pretty useful.”
I nod at that. “It does, but I’m a bit surprised you didn’t go straight for body mods like speed strength or whatever. That seems like it would be most popular.”
“I’ll have you know that I rate better than average in all physical categories, thank you.”
Oh shit. I’m horrified at my careless words. “No no, Mel, I wasn’t trying to imply that there was anything wrong with your body. You look great, I just meant . . . you know, I don’t really know what I meant. I’mma shut up now.”
In fact, while I’m mortified and staring at my shoes. I should look at the notifications that I’ve been scared might trigger another massive data dump.
Pain suppression leveled twice and it still felt that bad? Jeebus. That totally awesome spell nearly melted my brain.
I’m still gradually re-introducing the data that came in. Don’t try to reproduce it yet. And yes I heard you thinking about it. No you don’t have enough stored Aether in your body, and yes you can use multiple ampules.
Tessa, that’s kind of convenient, but super creepy that you can skim my thoughts. Try to pack it in by the end of the week, or we won’t have any room anywhere to dump scrap. You think there’s any harm in trying to engrave some runes I already know? Tessa honks no. Sweet. I start pulling up floor panels near the propulsion console and flipping them over.
I then ruminate over the past gravity runes that I’ve made and start encouraging Tessa to help me crunch the size and depth problem to get 1G. I figure that my engraving depth has been consistent and that, conveniently that a 9.8cm diameter runeshape will create 1G of pull. Tessa corrects me in that it is only true for the 3.2mx1mx1m cube of space that it affects and that the height changes based on the footprint of the engraved body.
“Okay, so that means that this 1mx2m deck plate would need two runeshapes to project a 3.2m height gravity field of 9.8m/s^2. That’s a lot of work, but totally doable.” Tessa doesn’t chirp either way, so I get to work. Hours later, I’m sitting in Propulsion Control with yet another deck plate in my lap as I sit on the floor engraving.
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Only took ten panels and twenty runeshapes.
MM1 Carpenter comes over floating in his pressure suit. “Hey Mercer. The Sea Bees got the . . . Fuck!” He face plants into my gravity decking. “Is that what you’ve been doing for the last few hours? Experimenting with the grav units? Jesus, lady. We have more important shit to do!”
“I’m on light duty man, give me a break.” I say with a 40lb plate in my lap.
“You know what? Not my fight. I came here to tell you that Senior Baiul is requesting at least one of our salvage teams construct some large bins for the reclamator products now that the second one is online.” Carpenter exasperates.
“I’ve got an idea that could make collection of those products simpler. I’ll come up when I’m done with this plate. Tell salvage teams alpha through Charlie to start working on designing those bins, assuming gravity inside the bins will work. I know, odd, but trust me. Tell Delta to start programming the two fabricators to start making the standard 2mx4m hull plates.”
“Will do, Mercer. These plates could be a solid prank in some of the corridors.”
I snort at that. It would too.
/ET1, take control of scavenge teams Echo and Foxtrot. Continue pulling salvage into Propulsion. I’ll be moving to Fab-Lab for a job shuffle. Be warned that there is gravity around propulsion control./
/Copy, MM1/
It takes me fifteen more minutes to finish the plate and to bolt it back to the deck. That done I ping Melissa and tell her I’m moving to Fab-lab.
“Hi Pen, holy moly!!” Melissa stumbles but keeps her feet as she treats on my modified plates. “Okay, showoff. That is pretty cool. You going to grav crew berthing?”
“And the fucking showers.”
“Oh, Penny. I think I’m going to cry. A shower. Oh my god.” She pulls me into a fierce hug. “That’s the kind of hope a girl needs.”
I know how that is, except I get to use the Chiefs’ showers from time to time and she has to use alcohol swabs.
“No need to tear up Meli, that’s month plus work. Lets get to the lab.”
I leap off of the last grav plate toward the aft machinery hatch and shoot off. Melissa takes a more sedate pace but is at the door by the time I’ve got it open.
“Do you need me to do anything when we get there?”
“You know the fabricators better than me, so yeah. Need standard hull plates being manufactured.”
“You know that those don’t fit in the airlock right?”
“With both doors open they do.” I shrug.
“Oh, sorry, forgot you’re a loon.”
“Tone the flirting back, Meli, we both have to work before play.” I say that with more bravado than I actually have.
Melissa looks good as a bashful tomato.
Ivanka floats at me aggressively when we enter the Lab. One of our first projects after patching the lab was to make a pseudo airlock into the space from Aft Machinery so we’d stop losing so much air.
“So you have some weird plan for gravity storage bins?” She accuses.
“Yes Senior, I do.”
“This I would like to see.”
“Aye aye, Senior chief. Weird plan, execute.”
I talk with the two salvage teams and their welders. I ask them to make the bottoms out of a different material and install the bottoms last. They all look at me as funny as Ivanka did, but they find three usuable chunks of 1mx2m thrust cone metal. I have to spend a little more time on each of the more stubborn metals, but I inscribe the two runeshapes on each panel and then watch my teams hammer, heat and weld the scrap metal into bins with my rune plates at the bottom.
“Okay boss, we did the deed on three bins. So what was with the weird request and not having us enclose these?” I walk over to the fabricator and pull some loose chips of steel throw them over the bin. As soon as the chips break over the vertical plane of the bin, they drop like rocks into the container.
A community “oh shit!”
“You all can thank me when you’re not cleaning filings and rubber bits from the scrubbers every watch.” Smiles break out across the lab.
Ivanka looks madder than ever, which confuses me. She stops really close and then pulls me up to her face. “How did you do this?”
“Space Magic, Ivanka. Space Magic.”
She blinks once, twice, and asks “Like Jedi or like space elves?”
Oh? Is this bad Russian bitch a fantasy reader? “Space elves. Well, space pixie maybe.”
She laughs at that, “because you are smol! Yes, I like that. Can you show me?”
“Sorry Ivanka, the Captain has decided to limit this information. I refuse to let the work take longer when I can do these things, but the CO is in command and I shouldn’t countermand his orders.”
She nods in understanding until her eyes flare in revelation, then her gaze turns hard and her grip is on my neck. “Could this space magic save Petra?” I hesitate for a moment and her grip tightens in anger, “Can you save Petra?!” she growls.
/Remove your hand from my neck, Ivanka/ I command. The audacity of this woman attempting to threaten me into compliance. Something in my eyes flashes fear across her face and she lets go. /You will never threaten me again. Know that I will do what I can to help Petra./
She holds my glare for a few seconds and when I promise to help Petra she looks away and nods, cowed by my will.
“Engineering, carry out your orders.” Ivanka yells. Aka get back to work. She storms off, to where I don’t know, but I should tell the Captain.
/CO, DE Mercer. In light of Petra’s debilitating injury, I am reminded that my Propulsion team, and possibly the whole ship will suffer from Aether sickness that could kill them. Inoculated with a swarm this early, their chances of surviving the warps approaches 87%. I’m informing you of my intent to have Propulsion and Chief Petra inoculated. It can be your swarm, or mine./
/Mercer, I have made my will on this clear. You will not disclose our contact with Alien intelligence to the crew under any circumstances. Am I clear?/
/Even if I have a way to cut reconstruction time by months? And when I figure out how to shave off years of travel time. What then?/
/. . . what have you discovered?/
/I have simplified artificial gravity, and I think I have a way to simplify the reclamators/ while he pauses, I take that as license to continue. /Sir, I won’t stop helping the crew to get home, you can trust that. I won’t hold my ability to help hostage for what I want. But I won’t keep it secret. As far as I’m concerned, and I can look up the laws regarding conduct in the face of the enemy if you like, but space and distance are our enemy sir and they are uncaring and unscrupulous./
/Mercer, you are dangerously close to insubordination. I will consider this and you will not act until I say so./
/With all due respect sir, withholding a swarm from Chief Volkov is in effect torturing her. If you are willing to torture your subordinates to satisfy your paranoia and pride, then you will join the long list of war criminals on the wrong side of history. I’ll be visiting Chief Volkov tomorrow./
/And I will greet you with irons if you decide to be stupid/
So be it Captain. So be it.