Estimated date 2780 +/-10
PX-4509
SS Lucretia
The Lucretia had been extensively modified by Interconnectedness Unlimited over the years, but, due to her nature, her most important modification had been the extended Grav decks.
It didn’t happen all at once, either, but over the years each refit had managed to extend the decks more and more each time, be it because of all the space that was freed up from converting her to a compact Core JumpShip or the refinements on material sciences that let them reduce the number of structural parts or the reduction of size on the motors that governed the rotation.
The Lucretia had two distinct Grav decks, for over three times the total surface area of her original configuration and had been large enough to allow far more than the usual med bay, mess hall, gym and some living quarters, at a very comfortable .87 Gs.
All the extra room meant they had been able to not only have all living quarters in the grav decks, but that they were left with room to spare, so they had squeezed in office space in the ring itself, including some of the labs, this was far from the norm.
The extra office space also included Meeting Room A.
It was comparatively lavish for a JumpShip, a large central table made out of some exotic wood, carved and lacquered, with built-in holographic emitters that were incorporated almost seamlessly into the table.
It was the sort of thing that was expected in the office of CEO from a mid-sized corporation, or of a senior planetary noble.
The chairs, for their part, were also quite posh, covered in wood and leather. They were also ergonomic, using some type of Star League era memory foam that would adapt itself to the user. They even had discrete maglock systems built into them, a requirement for a JumpShip, yet still kept the illusion of being purely wooden chairs.
It was where most of the high level meetings between the Ship’s staff and the Count back at Rosamond happened.
The Grav decks by themselves would be seen, by most spacers, as an incredible luxury, were a necessity due to Lucretia's mission profile. This was because the crew would barely see a planet side during her tours and rarely leave the ship when they did. Unlike DropShips, generating gravity through thrust wasn’t an option for her. Theoretically she was able, her main drive was powerful enough for that, but not only it would have been a serious drain to her operational range, the simple truth was that the arrangement of the crew areas hadn’t been designed with the necessary orientation.
For that to work, down needed to be towards the main drive, while the grav deck was by its nature oriented towards the outer hull skin.
So, while the massive grav decks were a mission critical element, necessary in keeping the health, of mind and body of the crew, the meeting room, on the other hand, was a completely different issue.
It was in that meeting room where Robert Bannson found himself holding the first post jump meeting with most of his senior officers.
Paul Renner, the Lucretia’s Chief engineer, was cupping his chin, as he leaned back into his chair, Alistair Smythe, the CMO, had his arms crossed before himself, Mika Fournier, the senior Astrogator had a downcast look, while Dr Marcus Lupin, the head of the science department was deep in thought. Finally, Dr. Analia Monroe looked as if she had bitten into something sour. She was present as both Dr. Lupin’s adjutant and as the author of the drive’s modifications.
The first to break the silence was Paul, who had gone from pensive, to frowning, and then morphed into a contemplative look.
“This isn’t a practical joke, isn’t it?” The bulky Chief engineer scratched his beard and held an eyebrow high.
Robert just glared at him.
“Because if this is a payback for that bit with the Canopian Pleasure circus…” he trailed off
Robert shook his head, slowly, never losing eye contact and never easing on the frown.
Paul sighed, “Shame, that sounded more plausible,” he shook his head, “back in time, I mean, really? Hah!”
“Currently accepted models frame it as impossible,” Interjected Dr. Monroe, her eyes downcast, “However we do have some theories on how that impossibility might be bypassed.”
“Indeed,” agreed Dr. Marcus Lupin, the senior researcher was easily the oldest man in the room, although he never quite looked as old as he was, his clean shaved face had little in the way of age lines and his short hair was plentiful if long since gone white, “On the other hand, KF physics have occasionally shown that they might be able to break causality, with Emergence wave been detectable at destination before its associated KF core activation.”
Paul frowned, “Sure, but that ain’t time travel, at least not to the past.”
Dr. Lupin’s nose flared, “There is that, but I offered as an example that our understanding of timespace is, if anything, limited.”
“If we are in the past, then,” interjected Mika Fourner, looking distinctly pale, “what about Paradox?”
“What about it?” challenged Analia Monroe, “While our understanding of Spacetime is still very limited,” she nodded towards Dr. Lupin, “As Dr. Lupin has reminded us, we know enough to know that the universe is made of sterner stuff.”
“Dr. Monroe is very much correct,” nodded Lupin, “Paradox is, by definition, an impossibility, and given the nature of the butterfly effect, our being here should caused us to change things that should preclude the future where we jumped to the here and now, just by being here,” he shook his head vehemently, “and since we are here, I am rather sure Paradox shouldn’t be a concern for us, at all.”
“What about a stable time loop?” Mika insisted, as she looked up from the table, her expression set in a frown, though her eyebrows were twitching.
“Do you believe in predestination, dear?” the older scientist asked, with a grandfatherly smile on his face.
The senior Astrogator shook her head.
“Neither do I, thus why I don’t think a stable time loop can be a thing,” he replied categorically, his expression morphed to one of utmost seriousness.
“Besides,” Doctor Monroe raised one wagging finger, “our current models, limited as they are, do suggest how time travel could be possible, and paradox free,” she shrugged and seemed to shrink somewhat, “they were mostly thought exercises, but we don’t have anything else to go by.”
Marcus hummed, “I take it you are going to suggest the ‘sidewise to the past’ idea?”
“That, or that by traveling back we created our own branch off our past,” she nodded
“So, could we, I dunno, travel back?” asked Paul, an eyebrow raised.
Analia grimaced and seemed to slump somewhat, it was obviously a question she had been expecting or, more liklely, dreading.
She shrugged, “Maybe, possibly, we’d need to reverse engineer how we ended here in the first place and try to do it backwards, but...“ she trailed off and looked down at the table, “the Hass-Monroe postulates make it unlikely that we could.”
The Hass-Monroe effect was one of the Lucretia’s biggest discoveries in recent years, the existence of environmental dynamics in hyperspace and the theoretical framework of how to make use of it, though now they were probably more in sketching practical applications with Analia’s modifications to the KF initiator.
“Plus, there is the question of how we’d go around testing how, since I don’t believe the captain would let us use the Lucretia as a testbed again?” Marcus asked, looking at Captain Bannson.
Bannson shook his head, “No, not happening,” he said, crossing his arms before his chest.
“And, even if we could source a test bed,” Analia said, grimacing at the sheer expense, “The chances of an automated recovery after a successful jump,” she shook her head, “No, somebody would need to be onboard.”
IU had a strict policy about that sort of testing, not without a high degree of certainty of success, which they didn’t have, and not without ensuring the survival of the crew.
“So, moving on,” Captain Bannson then turned towards the CMO, “You’ve been rather quiet today Alistair, got anything to report?”
“My apologies for that, I actually do, sort of,” the Argyle born doctor replied, “On the one hand I’m happy to report no casualties and only a handful of injuries,” he glanced towards the captain, “nothing serious, two contusions and a dozen or so others with minor bruising.”
Robert Bannson made a face at that, time had been of the matter, and little warning had been given to the crew to both lock down the ship and prepare themselves for acceleration. Given how close their getaway had been, the short warning had been the right choice, but it was mostly luck that there had been only light injuries and so few of them.
“Now, now, captain,” the CMO waved at him, “I understand that we had no other option, and I am sure the crew knows as well, but that isn’t what’s been occupying my mind.”
“Out with it man,” Paul interrupted with an expression of faux outrage, “Always the thespian with you.”
“Yes, quite,” Alistair shot the chief engineer a look of utmost boredom, “it is more than can be said of your gifts in that area.”
Robert slammed his hand against the table, “You two aren’t doing this, not today.” he said in a voice as cool as Freon.
It wasn’t that they hated each other, both Alistair and Lucas were thick as thieves at times, and they loved to annoy one another in the weirdest contest of one-upmanship Robert had ever seen.
They both seemed to shrink in their seats at that
“Good, now, Doctor?” Robert looked at the CMO.
“I apologize, truth is, as some of you might be aware, we had a number of TDS cases reported after the jump, and most of them hadn’t had a history of such reactions previously.”
Transit disorientation syndrome, or TDS, was a rare condition, specially in spacers, and one that really didn’t have much of an explanation. Simply put some people reacted poorly to KF travel, some just got as little as a headache, others could get deep migraines, nausea, vomits and while many studies suggested that TDS were for the most part psychosomatic reactions to a KF transit,
“So we might be able to kill the idea that it is a psychosomatic effect,” muttered Dr Lupin as he massaged his chin.
“It is too early to tell, of course,” Alistair replied, nodding ad trying to fight back a grin, “but our last jump has put a serious dent in that theory.”
“The jump felt more intense,” agreed Robert, who then glanced towards Mika, “Far more intense than any other jump I’ve experienced before.”
The Senior Astrogator nodded in agreement, “Yes, very intense,” she said in a low tone.
Alistair, for his part, widened his smile, “I will probably be asking for volunteers that suffered from TDS to be kept under observation during our next jump, time permitting, obviously,” he said as he turned towards the captain, “There is very little new data regarding the TDS phenomena and this might very well be one of the pieces we’ve been missing,” his eyes seemed to shine at the thought.
Robert took a deep breath and closed his eyes before leaning back on his chair, “I’ll allow it,” he said after a while, “But at the moment you should concentrate on the well-being of the crew, especially their mental well-being.”
Alistair's expression seemed of near outrage, and then he forced himself towards calm, “Captain, I would never put the crew second, even for this and definitely not in these circumstances.”
Robert nodded, the older Doctor was as eccentric as the best of them, but had always been completely serious about the Hippocratic oath.
“I know, Alistair, I’m just worried how the crew will react to the news,” Robert admitted.
That made a few nods along the table, it was hard to say how the crew would react. The nature of Lucretia's mission meant that IU had looked for very distinct personality profiles, people committed to their careers, lifelong spacers, by and large people with few bonds outside IU and a certain mental resilience able to endure years on end aboard a JumpShip without liberty or any sort of port call.
“So, for now,” Robert stated, “our first priority should be the Lucretia, making sure she’s space worthy and that her core can move us safely, trumps everything else. Once that is done, our goal will be traveling back towards the closest inhabited system,” he turned towards Mika.
“Which should still be Portland,” the senior navigator interjected, a thoughtful look on her face, “Though it should still be a part of the Concordat, back then, um, now?” she replied, and her expression turned bitter, “and was part of the stupid war.”
“I assume you mean the Taurian-Canopus and not the First succession war?” Robert asked
She shot him a glare, “Yes, Captain,” but her tone was professional and proper, before she dropped her voice to an almost inaudible mutter, “Semyon shouldn’t have been Protector.”
Robert’s eyes narrowed, “Indeed, but first things first, we check our ship, we make the trip to Portland and then? Then we’ll see,” he carefully eyed all those present, one after another, “Understood?” he raised an eyebrow.
At the sign of the nods and half muttered agreements he smiled, “Good, then I’ll address the crew in half an hour,” he then stood up and looked towards his chief engineer, “Paul, Analia, please stay back a moment?” after they both nodded back, he smiled back, “Meeting dismissed.”
.o0O0o.
Robert waited for the room to clear out until only Paul and Analia were left.
Slowly, he stood up from his chair and moved towards them.
“I guess you can tell what I’m going to say right now,” he said as he reached the pair.
“The core is our primary priority?” Paul said making air quotes in a tone not unlike Robert’s
Captain Bannson nodded and shrugged, “Close enough Paul,” he took a deep breath, “I need you two to take extra care here, I know, I know,” he added dismissively, “Don’t teach Grandma to suck eggs and all that, but this bears repeating.”
“Robert,” Analia interrupted, as she leaned towards the table, “I am ninety plus percent sure the core is fine, the initiator is another story, but…”
The chief engineer smirked, “Listen to her, Rob, besides, if the core’d cracked, the field would have collapsed and we’d have ended in a far more intimate understanding of the Lucretia than we’d ever wanted to. Since we haven’t...”
“He does have a point Captain,” Analia said, frowning, “even if the jump stressed the core far beyond tolerances, I’m sure she’d get us to Portland, but if it can’t, we still have the HPG and we should be within range.”
Paul found himself nodding, “Yeah, and worse case and the Portland HPG is gone, we can just call them using the HPG, it isn’t like we have to encode the signal lie C* does so any good radio set should pick it up.”
That was, perhaps, one of the most deeply guarded secrets of ComStar. An HPG could create a minute KF event big enough to deliver a data stream within 50 light-years, but there was no need to have an HPG to receive the data.
Of course, SLCOMNET had also kept the charade, but that was the Hegemony being their assholish selves, much like they had black boxed everything they could or had kept the so-called black boxes a state secret.
“True enough,” Robert said, shrugging, then he let a smirk on his face, “Actually I had another reason to keep you behind.”
“You want us to keep an eye on the crew?” Paul said as he leaned back against the wall.
“That goes without saying,” Robert offered Paul a glare.
“True enough, so, what is it, then?”
“I’m going to address the crew in an hour or so, but I’d very much appreciate it if you guys got started before then,” he pointed at them in succession.
“So, we get to break the news to the crew?” Paul added, with a cautious expression, as he scratched at his eyebrow with his thumbnail.
“As long as you don’t start a riot,” the Captain replied, crossing his arms before his chest.
“That was one time!” Paul protested
“Pay no heed to this comedy act,” Robert spoke to Analia.
“Don’t worry Rob,” she shot back a smirk of her own, “you know I don’t.”
“You wound me,” Paul said, in mock outrage, “Right here, in my heart.”
“I am sure you are, Paul,” Robert deadpanned before taking a deep breath, “Anyway, off you go, I need to think what I’ll say and you two have work to do.”
.o0O0o.
The first thing Paul Renner did after the meeting, was to set up the coordination between himself and Dr Monroe, once that was done, he headed for the Mess Hall.
As luck would have it, the Mess was only a short distance away from the office section of the deck, and stood between the work areas and the berthing section of Lucretia's grav deck.
When he entered the Mess, he saw some of his off-duty personnel. Some were sitting, the bravest of the lot were poking at the day’s special, others were seemingly in the middle of a card game of some sort and a few others were standing by the fixed TwoDee set watching what seemed to be some Immortal Warrior reruns.
That seems like a season fifty episode, he quietly mused to himself, the one with the Undead Rimworlder.
He sighed and shook his head, fighting the impulse to smile at his crew, but instead he moved to one of the free chairs near the door and, after disabling its magloc, he grabbed it.
After that he moved the chair towards the center of the room, secured it to the floor, an old spacer’s habit, and climbed on top of it.
“Listen up, grease monkeys!” he bellowed, “Just got out of a meeting with the CO.”
And just like that he was the center of attention of the whole room
“I know the rumors have been running wild,” he offered them one of his smiles, “But here I am to set the record straight.”
The murmur began in earnest at that
“Good news, we got away from the Wobbies,” he grinned, “even better news, we are well beyond their reach.”
The expressions in the room were one for the books
“The Bad news? We are beyond their reach because they aren’t a thing yet,” he said, placing his hands behind his back
“Bullshit boss,” bellowed Emma Roitman, one of his senior engineers, “You sure your seal was ok when you were checking the helium tanks?”
“I always triple check my seals, you know that, Emma,” he said wagging his finger, “And while I totally understand your point, you should have seen my own reaction,” he then shook his head, “But no, this seems to be happening.”
The mood in the room seemed to bottom out, he saw folk deflate and one of his senior engineers gave a solid kick to a chair, or tried to, since it was still secured, and only managed to add comedy to the tragedy.
“Enough,” he said clapping his hands once, “You are Engineers, you are the best and the brightest, and now we have a mission, we need to make sure the Lady Lucretia is fine after her little ordeal.”
That seemed to get the moods up a bit
“She made sure we survived the killer toasters from hell, and make no mistake, they had us dead to rights,” he said in a serious tone, “She even managed to make the impossible and dropped us here, and now it is our turn,”
He paused for effect, offering his underlings a cocky grin.
“So, I am going to need one very special crew to come with me and do a one over of the core and,” he pointed at Emma, “Since you so generously volunteered for the task…”
“Dammit,” Emma replied, with a stomp.
“Indeed,” he said, sardonically, “Then again, nobody is getting free time, while we are making sure the Lady can jump us back to civilization, the rest of you will be doing a complete one over of all the critical systems,” he pointed at one of the crewmen that was favoring one foot, “Gonchovsky, it is going to be your responsibility, I saw the kick you gave to that chair.”
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“So, now seriously,” he said, “We’re alive, we survived the toasters and might have done something nobody has ever done before, so remember that during your next liberty, you might even be able to brag about it,” not that anybody would buy that, he added just under his breath.
Still they weren't out of the woods, not yet. The Killer Toasters from Hell weren’t there any more, but space was still plenty deadly even without those terminator rejects.
.o0O0o.
Seventy-eight hours, that was how long it took Paul, Analia and their people to go over the Initiator and the KF core. By the standards of such a review, it was record time but, then again, few crews could run that sort of diagnostic outside a yard, and even fewer were experienced enough and practiced enough to run them in under five days.
The Lucretia’s was both and then some.
But it was little over ten hours later when Paul rapped his knuckles on Robert’s door.
Terrible sense of humor aside, Paul was an old space hand and with that came the experience of knowing that it was best to be rested before presenting any sort of report, and this was especially true after pulling an extra long shift.
“Come in” the intercom crackled and, a moment later, the door slid open.
Robert Bannson’s office was, in many ways, a reflection of himself.
The walls were covered in a deep brown wood paneling. In actuality, it was a wood simile made out of a fire retardant material, but more than capable of passing muster at a first glance. The left side walls held a pair of displays that simulated windows with a planet side landscape, unspoiled and bucolic, illuminated by a yellow sun at the moment.
The right wall was adorned by framed photographs, of mission crews, the Rosamond office and of the Lucretia herself against a starscape.
The Desk, however, was the centerpiece of the room. It was a relatively simple mass-produced design, pure function over form, but much like the walls clad on the same wood facsimile.
Robert had been leaning back on his chair, as Paul entered the room, he held a cautious expression on his face with his hands entwined on his desk..
“Paul,” Robert offered him a slight nod.
“Rob,” he nodded back.
“Take a seat,” Robert pointed at one of the empty chairs before the desk
The Chairs weren’t unlike the simple folded metal chairs one could see in most DropShips, or in the rest of the grav deck. Metal, magloc but also had an ergonomic design and thick padding, while not made of the same smart material as the ones in the meeting room A, they were a comfortable enough experience.
After Paul sat down, he glanced at his friend. Robert was looking worn, not quite death warmed over but, then again, the last few days had been utter rather crap for all of them, so, in context, he probably looked fine.
“So?” Robert asked, “What’s the verdict?” Paul could see his friend’s facade cracking. The corner of his eyes were twitching, his hands had a very slight shake around his thumb and there was a certain trepidation in his voice.
Paul flashed a slim smile at him, “Good news is that we found no damage to the core, and the initiator is ok,” he let his smile grow, “Admittedly we will need to replace a few parts here and there, but nothing quite life or death plus they are all in stock.”
Robert seemed to relax a bit at that, and even a small smile flashed on his face.
“That’s great news,” he took a deep breath, “What is our ETA for that?”
“How long do we have?” Paul asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Robert sighed, “As long as you need,” that caused Paul to raise his eyebrows, “Our fuel tanks are close to three quarters full, so, provided we don’t have to go full thrust again, we should be fine.”
Paul nodded, “That’s good to hear,” he said, relaxing onto the chair.
“Yeah, it surprised me,” Robert admitted, “but the drives are considerably less of a fuel hog than we had expected.”
“Mitchelson’s crew did some excellent work,” the chief engineer replied, nodding.
“Yeah, he did,” Robert nodded, and then he leaned forward, “So, how long do you want to take to charge the core?”
“Hmm, I’d say about ten days, maybe twelve,” he replied speculatively, “I plan on running full diagnostics on the main power conduits and the transformers before we start charging her and I do plan on taking it slowly, but I don’t expect any complications.”
Robert nodded in reply.
“Replacing the sail’s going to be a pain, though,” Paul commented, as he pointed at Robert.
“I agree, I am not sure how we’ll manage that,” Robert expression dropped, “we have our barter bullion, but don’t think that would cover the costs and, on the other hand, there is the matter of the fuel to consider…” he scrunched his face.
Paul nodded.
The lack of a sail was going to affect their endurance a lot. After all, the sails weren’t just a cheap way of charging the reactor slowly, but also to provide power for their day to day needs of the ship while in orbit to a star.
Now they only had the reactor for that, and while fuel wasn’t particularly expensive, sourcing it could be a problem, specially if all they had for that was the barter bullion.
He nodded again, it was easy to see why Robert was looking worn.
“Well, at least my crew is proficient enough on using the reactor to charge the core,” Paul said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Over the years, the loss of knowledge and facilities that marked the succession war, charging a core directly from the reactor had become a thing most crews dreaded. There was an element of superstition, of course, an unavoidable reality when dealing with ship crews, but the endemic lack of maintenance, parts, and the abundance of kludges, and other creative fixes to the aforementioned lack of parts, meant that there was an underlying reason for that fear.
Simply put, too many ships were lost that way, few of those were ever found again, and the least said about that, the better.
And, for good or ill, crews could recognize the patterns.
“I know,” Robert smiled, “We have a good and properly trained crew, and a well maintained ship,” he then leaned back on his chair, “So, what do you think of Analia’s work?”
“It is some next level shit,” he said, gesturing with his hands, his smile wide, “I always knew she was good, and driven, but, wow.”
“Yeah, her work is revolutionary,” Robert offered him a satisfied smile.
“Oodles of potential, and even this snafu is pure genius,” Paul added, shaking his head, “I mean, she managed a jump on a 30% charge! Admittedly, that jump ended us with us punching out of Hyperspace somewhen else, but even then...”
“So, you think that is what happened?” Robert asked, raising an eyebrow.
Paul shrugged, “Who knows? That is her take, and it is plausible enough, you know?” he then scratched his head, “But I am sure we will have a proper answer, sooner or later.”
“I know,” Robert nodded, with a smile, even if it didn’t manage to reach his eyes
“So…” Paul asked slowly, “how’s the rest of the crew doing?”
Robert took a deep breath, “They’re holding, and once they know our core works, things should look up a bit, but there are way too many uncertainties for me to be too optimistic, you know?”
Paul slapped his hand against the armrest of his chair, “I don’t buy it, you always have full faith in the crew, so what is going on?”
Robert gave a soft chuckle, “I could never hide things from you, could I?”
“Well, I know your poker tells, and I remember when you were a wet behind the ears space hand, so…” Paul grinned.
“I’ve been considering the afterwards. We are at the end of a golden era even if it was more gilded than gold, you know,” he shook his head, “what if we could arrest the fall?”
“I thought I knew a very smart man that suggested putting a pin on that till we were out of the woods,” Paul laced his words with sarcasm as he pointed at his friend.
“I’ve always been a bit of a hypocrite, after all I am the Captain,” Robert’s expression became somber, “And it is my duty to worry about things.”
“True enough,” Paul nodded, “And you got a point, I mean even if it is too late for the League, if we are just in time to witness the war, we can probably make a difference, maybe get rid of Karpov, prepare folks for the Hechnar Flu,” he shrugged, “and, maybe it isn’t too late and we will be able to talk some sense into Kerensky.”
“There is that,” he conceded.
“Plus, you should also remember one thing,” Paul said as his smile widened, “The Canopian Pleasure Circuses should still be at their best.”
That made Robert chuckle and then laugh deeply and loudly, something his friend was in sore need.
It sometimes paid to play the clown.
.o0O0o.
Arrival + 18 days
PX-4475
SS Lucretia
In a sudden burst of Chereknov radiation, reality seemed to unfurl. For a fraction of a second, a location at that star’s Zenith overlapped one on PX-4509 Zenith in Hyperspace and then it all returned to normal, just like it was before.
Except now the SS Lucretia was orbit high above PX-4475, in its zenith point.
“Ready to stand down from Jump,” Captain Bannson ordered, before turning towards his senior navigator, “Status?”
“We’re on target, Captain,” Mika Fournier replied in a crisp tone as she stored the zeroG barfbag back into its rack, “Core readouts are in the green.”
“Excellent,” Robert could feel himself relaxing back into his seat, he then nodded to himself and turned towards the Sensor officer, “Scopes?”
“Clear over here, sir,” Manny Reyes replied with a smile, “we are as lonely here as the star down there.”
“Good, take the con for a moment, Manny, I need to have a word with Mika,” Robert stated in an even tone.
“Cap?” Mika’s voice was uneven and her eyes open wide.
“Nothing bad, Mika, but it is something I’d rather do now.”
“I, sure, boss,” she said as she removed her harness, “Where to?”
Robert undid his harness and pushed off his chair, “The duty office will do.” he said, pointing towards one of the bridge’s side doers.
Mika blinked rapidly but gave a slight nod and after a slight boost started floating towards the door.
.o0O0o.
The Duty office was a small work office attached to the bridge, generally reserved for the senior watch officer to perform either some light administrative work or to have a private conversation with a crew member.
As such it was the definition of spartan, a small desk with a built-in computer bolted to the floor near the wall, with a free harness behind it.
The walls were bare, except for an emergency kit near the door, and a storage point for oxygen masks and the usual handholds over the walls and roof
The office saw little use in the Lucretia, thus far, and Robert would prefer it would stay that way.
He floated by the desk and turned towards Mika.
“So, what’s the secret, Boss?” Mika asked as she floated near the door.
Robert chuckled, “Not really a secret but, after Ross retired we were left without an Executive Officer,” he said as he held to the desk, “I admit I’ve taken more time than it should, but…”
“You want me to...” she replied, her expression one of shock.
“I have been considering you for a while,” he nodded, “and after our close encounter, well, I needed to know that the TDS had been a one off,” he said with an apologetic look.
Mika nodded in agreement, “Stands to reason, can’t have a senior officer crippled right after a jump,” she felt her throat dry.,
“Very much so,” Robert nodded, “So, you want the job?”
“Yes,” she replied categorically, and then blinked, “so, what happens now?”
Robert beamed at her and then removed a small box from the desk’s drawer, he opened the case and after grinning, he showed the contents to Mika, “Now I pin this on your shoulders,”
Mika felt a smile grow on her face, “Go ahead, boss.”
Robert nodded in reply and with a deft push, he moved next to her, “Should have done this in my office,” he grumbled, “it’s so much easier under gravity,” but she could see him smile at her.
“But tradition is tradition, right?” she replied with a grin on her face.
“Very much so,” he replied and, after making sure he was using his feet on the near handhold, he moved towards pinning the chevrons on Mika’s Jumpsuit.
Civilian JumpShips were rather lax on markings, most of the crew’s jumpsuits had their name and maybe an armband or emblem that identified their department. The only real exceptions was for the senior officers, primarily the Captain and the Executive Officer, who wore more distinctive marking and the damage control crews, but they had their own way of identifying themselves.
In this case, the XO strips were a pair of red bands on the blue cloth strips worn as epaulets.
Of course, the strips were cloth and had velcro underneath, this was so the amount of pressure needed to secure them was minimal. An important consideration for something done in ZeroG, or as close to it as one could find itself.
After Robert had placed both strips on her shoulders, he tapped her left shoulder twice and smiled at her.
“Congratulations, XO,” Robert offered his hand.
“Thanks Captain,” she said, her eyes shiny, she might have even given a sniff, “So, what now?”
“Now? You get to do the post jump check, and follow up with both Paul and Analia about the core,” he replied as his expression turned serious, “Remember, the reward for good work is more work,” he added with a wink.
“Joy,” she deadpanned, “Anything else?”
He grinned, “Yes, I’d rather not have you on double duty, so, I am going to need the name of the new head of Astrogation on my desk before the week is out.”
“Really shouldn’t have said that,” she muttered.
“Agreed, you walked into that one beautifully,” he smiled at her, “Admittedly I was going to ask you to do this in a couple of days, but...” he shrugged
Her cheeks seemed to redden, then she straightened herself, “In that case, Captain, am I dismissed?”
“You are,” he replied.
“Thank you,” she replied with a soft nod and turned towards the door.
There were no tears in her eyes, none, and if anybody ever said anything else, they were a lying lair who lies and thus untrustworthy.
.o0O0o.
Arrival + 20 days
PX-4475
SS Lucretia
Mika Fournier still had the hints of a satisfied smirk on her face as she entered the Captain’s office.
She’d been the XO of the Lucretia for only forty hours and change, but she could still feel the spring in her step.
As she entered, she saw Robert hunched over his desk, working at his terminal. He was looking a bit worn himself, and from what she could see he was still in yesterday’s jumpsuit,
Or maybe it was even longer? She thought to herself and then shook her head and loudly cleared her throat.
Robert looked up from his screen and blinked rapidly, before massaging his eyes.
“Mika?” he asked a bit disoriented, “I am sorry, I thought we had the meeting at three?”
“We do,” she nodded, as she crossed the distance to his desk, “It is a quarter past three now.”
Roberts eyes widened and then shook his head, “My apologies, got caught up in Dr Lupin’s proposal.”
“Oh?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“It is a brief he put together on the general time period,” he replied, “he seems to have a degree on the field, and is rather fired up about this, even if, by his own admission, he isn’t very familiar about this particular period, but between reference materials and the ship’s computers he has painted a rather detailed picture.”
“I imagine,” she nodded, “I sometimes feel that ‘not very familiar’ is one of those terms academics like to throw around to appear humble or something.”
“I won’t argue that” he shrugged, “Still, without the exact date, this is mostly a guide of either past or future events, but I apologize, do take a seat,” he added pointing towards one of the free chairs before his desk
Mika nodded knowingly and sat down, “I understand boss,” the whole situation felt unreal to her, and to the crew at large, “this is out of a bad holovid.”
“Yeah, no kidding, feels like one of the bad episodes from Errant Encounters,” he replied with a nod.
Errant Encounters had been a niche horror holovid, short episodes in format, somewhere between the bizarre and the macabre, oftentimes involving bad ends
“If the Lady starts demanding blood for her Core I’ll tender my resignation right here and now,” she warned.
“Don’t worry,” Robert replied with a smirk on his face, “You’d probably find me well out of the ship if that happened,” he then shook his head, “But I doubt you’ve come here to reminisce about entertainment.”
“Not exclusively,” she replied, with a smirk of her own, “But wanted to deliver you the report,” she said as she placed a datapad on the desk.
“Excellent, no problems?” he said as he reached for the pad.
Mika shook her head, “None, Dr Monroe and Chief Renner had some observations about the core, but now they are quite confident there were no serious strains or damage to it.”
“That is excellent news,” he replied, with a nod.
“And you’ll also find my suggested replacement for head Astrogation,” she added pointing at the pad
Robert blinked and offered her thumbs up, “Very well done, XO,” he said flipping through the pad, “Ah, you choose Nail,” he said with a hit of approval
“Yes, Mr Kerekes is the most capable of the possible candidates,” she replied
“I agree, though he might need help acclimating to his new post,” he said pointing at Mika, “you know Nimue has seniority on him.”
“Yes, and she also has zero command aptitude,” she shot back.
“Never said she did,” Robert replied, “actually I was half afraid her name would be the one on this file,” he said pointing at the pad.
Nimue Darvancio was one of the best astrogators she had ever had the pleasure to meet. Had an almost preternatural ability to plot jumps and crunch numbers and jump equations in a way that was almost savant-like. On the other hand, she was a very prickly person
“Don’t worry, don’t think anybody who’s worked with her would suggest her for any command posting,” Mika replied as she leaned back on her seat.
“True enough, she can serve as a test for Nail,” replied Robert as he put down the pad on his desk.
Mika nodded, “That might be a valuable lesson,” she added cautiously.
Robert nodded in reply and then reached down into one of his drawers, “Hold a tick,” he said.
A moment latter he placed a pair of shot glasses on the desk and a bottle of, Mika’s eyes widened.
“Is that Glengarry reserve?” she asked, pointing at the bottle
“Yup,” Robert replied, opening the bottle and filling both shot glasses, “think it is time to congratulate you on your first tasks completed, XO.” he said and placed a shot glass near her.
Mika blinked rapidly and after taking a deep breath, she took the shot glass in her hand and brought it near her eyes.
“Well, if you are done studying the glass?” Asked the Captain, with a smirk on her face, and his own shot glass in his hand, “how about a toast, XO?”
She nodded, “Sure,” she looked at the glass, then at the bottle and then her eyes moved to Robert, “For the Lady Lucretia,” she said and raised her glass.
“For the Lady,” he echoed her actions, and a moment later they both downed their glasses.