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Paramount Nineveh
Ch3 - Secret Operation

Ch3 - Secret Operation

De Silva had retreated to his stateroom to log his thoughts after speaking with Holly on the bridge. Their buyer undoubtably had more than one spy probe in the system. And they were still tracking the object. But they were only willing to risk one of their probes by sending message traffic. He wished that he had access to everything that they had even though he reasoned that the resources given to them would be enough.

Never trust the Triumvirate.

Holly had showed herself to be adept at prioritizing information even while exhausted. And the Sci-Med staff were ready. He had everything he needed to find the object and then survey it. So long as the Elios stayed away for next 4-5 months, and that seemed likely. The question on his mind was whether his crew had the will. His crew had agreed to follow him on this assignment in total secrecy. But would they still be willing once they learned where they were and that their payload was of alien origin?

Time for the answer. Thinking of getting the answer gave him chills but delaying wouldn’t improve the situation. The fastest way back to his wife and kids was to efficiently continue the search and to start preparations for the survey and retrieval now. Besides, their target would be spotted by others in time. They could not safely linger in this star system.

He set his tablet on his desk next to the picture of his wife and children and headed for the bridge, briskly moving through the cramped halls (even in the 24th century space was a luxury on starships). He arrived in the Mess and saw that his crew was already there. Holly had navigational data brought up on the screens lining the walls.

Another good decision.

“Good morning, Captain,” the crew said in unison.

“Good morning,” he answered. He was eager for breakfast. He wasn’t very hungry, but he did have a craving for a small bite with more coffee. It was necessary for his health too. They all needed to eat a little to rebuild their intestinal microbiome.

“How would you like your coffee?” Soliman asked.

“Black. Nothing in it.” It’s one of those mornings.

“I heard that,” Moussa said. He already had worked a large cup halfway down.

Qureshi walked by Chandna, pointed back towards the galley and whispered, “Remember to eat light so your stomach slowly gets used to food. There will be more kept in the stainless fridge there in case you want more after a few hours.”

“That’s very gracious,” he said, “but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

De Silva looked at her and she nodded in understanding. Chandna was fully cognizant now and knew what to do. He surveyed the room while the galley team brought out the main course. “Do I have a volunteer to lead us in saying Grace?”

Moussa stopped them. “We have a situation to resolve first. I mean, we’ve been blessed. We made it here – and I know this was a long voyage. But we should remember one person in particular and some unresolved business of his.”

Stocky’s name. That had to be what Moussa was alluding to. Everyone else thought so too, and their eyes turned to him. Patterson nudged him to get his attention, but De Silva perceived that he already knew he would be asked about it.

“Have you thought about a name?”

“We aren’t going to call you by a serial number,” Zhu said.

“I’m sorry, guys, I don’t think I’ve given that enough thought yet,” Stocky said.

De Silva made a casual nod of agreement while discreetly reading Stocky’s feelings. He was clearly embarrassed but it wasn’t certain whether it was because he needed more time for consideration or whether he had no intention for it.

“If you want us to keep calling you Stocky, just say so,” Samoylova said. “We just feel that you might want a proper name.” She also seemed to be considering that he just didn’t want it.

“But you don’t name yourselves,” Stocky said.

“Well, Daddy Captain can name you,” Moussa said, laughing.

“If you want, Stocky. How does something distinguished – say in Latin – appeal to you? Valentinus?”

“What does that mean?” Fuller asked.

“About the same thing as Stocky,” Patterson said. “But it’s a proper name.”

“Is that a good name?” Stocky asked. His eyes reflected skepticism.

“It is if you like it. But I encourage you to come up with your own options.”

Stocky nodded in understanding and looked around the table. He clearly hadn’t expected this question to come up again. He couldn’t fault him. Stocky had certainly been treated both as a person and something less than that, depending on which was convenient at the time. That would have to confuse anyone. For all he knew, that might have been part of a replicant’s mental conditioning – make them confused so they are more susceptible to suggestion.

“I’ll take more time to consider it,” Stocky said.

Are you going to consider it? He could perceive that Stocky would now think about the manner, but maybe only to have ready excuses. Replicants were surprisingly difficult to read. Unlike humans, they seldom had strong desires or opinions.

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He let it slide. He could get it out of him by ordering him to take a name. But that wouldn’t make him family. He would keep it informal and always as a matter of choice. And, since it was possible that they might be out here for months, there would be plenty of opportunities to get him to consider changing his mind.

Besides, he understood that Stocky might be hesitant to take on a name until he was certain that he would stay. What’s the point if not? Hopefully, he would be more comfortable with considering his options after they had got back to Zeta Reticuli and began standard ops. He wanted Stocky to think of himself more as crew than as a replicant.

Moussa said grace and then they ate their breakfast with light conversation. The meal was family time and they did not talk about work. Stocky was now used to the custom, although it took several weeks for him to adapt to it. Chandna had adapted to the custom almost instantly. He was a very agreeable and courteous person.

He would write to keep Stocky when they got back to Zeta Reticuli, but he would let Chandna return to his corporate role. Although he was certain that Chandna would be an asset and a strong supporter of the team, he didn’t believe that he had any intention of connecting as a church and family. Still, he was grateful for his support.

The meal quickly passed. Only Stocky had more than one serving, and he signaled that he was listening. The conversations died down. He knew they had been whispering among themselves. They did know that more than thirteen months had passed. And most, if not all of them, had already discovered that they were beyond the reach of known comms stations. He could see the need to know within their eyes. It was time.

“It looks like I need to tell you why we’re here.” He looked into their eyes. “First, if you would, NAV, tell them where is here.”

“We arrived in the Delta Hydri system three and a half weeks ago,” she said.

“Huh?” Moussa said. He didn’t look happy. The others looked confused and half of them probably didn’t know the system. All of them looked to now understand the secrecy they had been working under. Nobody goes dozens of lightyears beyond the Outers without a good reason, and you don’t tell others that reason.

Fuller leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. He glanced at Patterson and then him. “Why?” The others asked the same question with their eyes if not with their voices.

“The object that we have been contracted to survey and retrieve, if possible, is here. Certain military factions – probably Triumvirate – keep surveillance probes out here to provide warning of any ETs that might be encroaching upon man’s space. This is a very young star system, and so there is no native alien civilization around. Nevertheless, these probes have detected an object which appears to be both derelict and of alien origin passing through this system.

Given these fortuitous circumstances, our unnamed buyer made inquiries for a short notice special retrieval mission. That’s us. The Marco Polo job was our test to prove that we could improvise. I’m sorry about the secrecy. I wish that I could have told you what we were committing ourselves to. The officers and I didn’t even learn the full details until after we had started our outbound from Twin Star City.”

He was glad that he could tell them that last part and that it was true. It was only then that they had been informed their target was of alien construction.

“Sir, excuse me,” Fuller said. “I’m sorry too. And I would like to help given the pay and benefits. But we aren’t trained for alien contact.” He was right about that. Even scientists didn’t have full agreement on how to go about it.

“We’re not going to be making first contact,” Patterson said. “We think the object is either derelict or unmanned. This job isn’t appreciably different from what we’ve done before. We just have to abide by the Paramount.”

“What makes us think it’s derelict?” Samoylova asked.

That was a good question. And one of the few that they could answer with confidence. He decided to pass it along to Holly since all the information they had was in her area of expertise. “You want to answer that, NAV?”

“The data from the probes show that the object’s trajectory has been completely determined by gravity the whole time,” she said. “No thrust. Infrared emissions are also unusually low. No sign of power. We haven’t detected any electromagnetic broadcasts either. It’s essentially derelict.”

“Okay,” Moussa said. “Where are we in Delta Hydri?”

“We’re about two hundred and twenty AU out,” she said. “We’re just outside this system’s SDO (scattered disc objects) analogs and travelling inward at just over six-hundred kilometers per second.”

“Are we planning on travelling deep within the system?” he asked.

He understood the reason for that question. The closer they got to the star Delta Hydri the more its gravity would affect them. It would take more thrust from the engines to get back to interstellar space and that meant more heat emissions. That would only help the Elios in tracking them.

“No,” he said. “Its hyperbolic trajectory should keep it out in the ice zone. We verified that before leaving Zeta.”

“Fine,” Soliman said. “How long till we intercept?”

De Silva chuckled. “That’s a minor problem.”

“Unfortunately,” Holly interrupted, “the probes have only been able to intermittently keep the object under observation. Their own orbits do not always allow for adequate observation. And we don’t currently hold it on the Nineveh’s sensors.”

“But we can escape if we need to,” Zhu added.

“That’s good,” Moussa said, “but what’s the plan if another ship comes looking for this?”

“The hundred percent mark is generous, and we only need to bring back surveillance information for that. I don’t intend to risk any of us. We appear to be the only ship operating out here. I intend to see what we can retrieve. We’ll adjust course to evacuate the system if we detect another ship.”

“What are the odds of the Elios showing up?” Moussa asked.

“Eliohuatjay,” Chandna corrected.

“We’re awfully far from their space.”

“We’re awfully far from ours,” Moussa said.

“But the Elios won’t be out here unless if they know about the object. And they probably don’t. The fact that it has been drifting for as long as we’ve observed indicates that it’s probably not theirs. We are keeping our eyes open just in case. And I want to reiterate that I’m not asking any of you to risk a first contact situation. We’ll leave if anyone else comes.”

“What’s the bonus potential here?” Soliman asked. “Let’s say we do haul it back. That’s got to be worth way more than the contract payout.”

“One hundred percent is just for close survey. It’s information only. Grabbing material samples gets us an extra ten to eighty percent, depending on what we bring back. The more they can learn, the more they will pay. If we haul the ship to where they will tell us to go, then the contract specifies that they will have a team meet us to assess our find, and they will determine what bonus to pay. However, it will be between two hundred to five hundred percent.”

The crew answered only with whistles and smiles. They exchanged glances with one another but didn’t confirm a position right away. But he knew half, or a little more, were in favor of going in. Now was the time to make the second part of his sale.

“I also want to say that I know our business operations have been stressful on many of you. Our plan going forward is to take on high value tasks like this. This will allow us to operate profitably with fewer jobs. And this will leave you with more time with your families. This will benefit us all in the long run.”

He took a discrete glance at Qureshi. She gazed down at the table and didn’t speak. He likely hadn’t won her confidence. He hoped that would change over the next couple months – once they were readying the Nineveh for the return voyage.