Chapter Ten

August 29, 2940

“So, how’s it looking?” Bastien asked as he tried not to let his teeth chatter. It was cold in the Galley’s primary freezer and Bastien was not wearing the protective layer that those assigned to the kitchen tended to have on hand. He regretted not trying to find one of the large parka-looking coats before seeking out Spencer. “Full stores?”

Lieutenant Cellar peaked his head out from behind several shelves deep in the icy chamber. “Yes, Commander,” he answered with a nod. “It’s taken a couple of days to cycle up the remaining foodstuffs and get everything we picked up at port organized. We’re almost there but I can assure you that we have plenty to eat for the next eight months.”

“That’s good,” Bastien commented, glancing back the way he’d come and toward the much warmer kitchen. He knew that the ship had spent some of her hard-earned credits on resupplying the Galley at Freeport Gamma Tango but that actually organizing their new foodstuffs had been a logistical challenge for Spencer since it was the first time they had been required to do so. “Any issues with the supplies?”

“No,” the chief steward said. “I made sure to work with Safiya when selecting potential food supplies at Freeport Gamma Tango. Everything we purchased is safe for consumption.”

“Anything that would remind us of home?” Bastien asked as he wrapped his arms around his chest to try and fight off the cold. Spencer appeared to notice and stood.

“Want to continue this conversation in the kitchen?”

Bastien nodded vigorously. “Please.”

The two exited the huge walk-in freezer and Bastien let out a sigh of relief as the warm kitchen air hit him. Several steward attendants were busy with food prep and Bastien looked on with interest. The crew of the Grace had eaten well since getting the Galley up and running. It was thanks to the hard work of these crewmen. “So, your question,” Spencer asked as he closed the cold storage unit, “was whether any of the food would remind us of home?” He began to take off the coat.

“Right,” Bastien confirmed.

“I would say so. There are only so many types of foodstuffs, Commander, and the markets at Freeport Gamma Tango supplied us with practically everything I ordered. Meats. Grains. Vegetables. Spices. An assortment of odds and ends. We can make dishes that resemble foods from home. Some things might taste a bit… odd. Might look a little weird. But for the most part, I’d say people shouldn’t have any complaints.” He hung the insulated jacket next to several others that Bastien hadn’t noticed.

“Perfect.” Bastien glanced around the kitchen. “Well, I came down for a quick bite but thought I’d pop back here to see if everything was going well with the new food stores.”

“It is,” Lieutenant Cellar answered. “I was about to get a meal myself. Want to join me?”

With a grin, Bastien followed Spencer through the busy kitchen and into the Galley proper. They approached the terminal used for ordering a meal, tapped at it to generate a ticket, and Bastien reviewed that shift’s offerings. Omelets and hash browns. Fish and chips. Shepherd’s pie. Pork fried rice. Like other UDF vessels, the Galley had a variety of meals available at any given time and they were freshly made upon ordering. “Any suggestions?” Bastien asked as he debated between the shepherd’s pie and the pork fried rice.

“I’m getting the shepherd’s pie,” Spencer said with a shrug. “Cookie is trying a new variation and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be great.”

“Make it two, then,” Bastien said and Spencer punched in the order. Then the two officers grabbed drinks – lemonade for Bastien and jasmine tea for Spencer – before ambling over to a table and sitting down to wait for their food. Bastien looked around at the crewmembers eating and laughing throughout the Galley. The space was certainly popular. “So,” Bastien said by way of conversation, “we have one hundred ninety crew on board, right?”

“Right,” Spencer said before taking a sip of his tea.

“And the normal crew compliment for the Grace would be one hundred forty?”

“That’s right.”

“A Dublin class support carrier like the Grace generally carries enough food to comfortably feed her crew for eight months and our pantries and cold storage were practically full when we first came out of cryogenic hibernation.”

Spencer took a moment to respond. “That’s accurate.”

“Your latest estimates, if food consumption so far is to be believed, is that we could feed our crew for about six months if we are fully stocked with the requisite foodstuffs.”

“That’s my current estimate, yes. The model shifts a bit depending on the kinds of meals we prepare but six months is a good base number.”

“Interesting…” Bastien commented before taking a sip of his lemonade.

“Problem, Commander?” Spencer asked. His tone sounded a bit wary. Bastien didn’t answer immediately so Spencer continued. “If you’d like to see my model, I can send it to you. I’m pretty confident I’m right but you’re welcome to check my numbers.”

Bastien held up a hand in apology. “Sorry, Spencer. I didn’t mean to question your conclusions. I was just confirming them because a thought occurred to me earlier.”

“What’s that?” Spencer asked without offense.

“We’re on our way to the Macroom system with the goal of rescuing an unknown number of people but we’re not totally sure how long those people will be on board if we rescue them. Will we have enough food?”

“Yes,” Spencer said confidently. “My understanding is that the parameters of this mission involve us rescuing Mr. Aldram’s immediate family. The report that Noah sent around after the interrogation suggested maybe a dozen people? A score at most? That’s not going to have a significant impact on our foodstuffs.”

“Alright,” Bastien acknowledged. “But what if something changes? What if we suddenly find that we have a hundred civilians who need to be evacuated. Two hundred? What then?”

Spencer paused for a moment and Bastien watched as the chief steward did some mental calculations. After a few seconds, Spencer spoke. “It takes a lot to work through our stores. Even if we add another couple of hundred mouths to feed, we would have weeks, if not months, to get them away from the system and to a friendly port. I’d probably need to draft a few crewmen from other divisions to help in the kitchen but we should be fine if that were to occur.”

Bastien felt better after hearing the certainty in Spencer’s voice. Though the chief steward was the youngest of the senior officers, his number of certifications and general competence at his job gave a lot of weight to his pronouncement. “Good. One more thing?” Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Are we sure that any refugees we rescue can eat our cooking?”

Spencer grinned. “I already discussed it with Safiya and Natasha. Yes, they’ll be fine.”

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“Perfect,” Bastien said before shifting the conversation to their next planned game night. Minutes passed as the two chatted enthusiastically about the state of their current holographic adventure before the food was delivered by a smiling crewman. Bastien dug in immediately, his stomach growling, and was immediately glad that he’d taken Spencer’s recommendation. “This is great,” he announced around a mouthful of carrots, peas, potatoes, and ground beef. “The flavor really pops.”

“We used some spices we picked up in port,” Spencer responded. “Thought they’d go well in the dish.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Bastien said before taking another huge bite. Spencer chuckled and followed suit. The next few minutes were quiet as the two dug into their meals and savored the delicious food and the warm energetic atmosphere of the Galley.

“Beta shift starts in two hours,” Spencer pointed out sometime later as the two pushed their empty plates away and leaned back in their chairs contentedly. “Anything of interest scheduled?”

“Not much,” Bastien answered before draining his drink. “A few routine maintenance issues, I think, and I was planning on reviewing Syndicate trade data. We have a few smaller ports we can stop at before we get to the Macroom system so it’s worth taking a look to see if there is anything interesting available for trade. You have anything pressing to do?”

“I still have some more freezer organization that needs to happen,” Spencer said. “Everything should be in its place after this shift, though. Going to check in on our garden, too.”

“How’s that project coming along?” Bastien asked with interest.

“Slow but good,” Spencer said with a shrug. “Life is coming back to the greenhouse but it takes time. With everything there totally dead when we woke up, I’m actually surprised that we’ve made as much progress as we have. In another few months, I think we’ll have some fresh vegetables on hand. The fruits will take longer, though.”

“Great,” Bastien said with a smile. Then he looked around. “Well, I think I’m going to head up to Deck Three and hit the gym. I’d like to burn off a bit of the meal before duty starts.”

“Sounds good,” Spencer said as he stood and turned toward the kitchen. “I’m going to chat with Cookie a bit and discuss the menu for tomorrow.”

*****

After stopping off at his quarters to change, Bastien took the S-Tube to Deck Three before deciding to pass through the primary lounge en route to the gym. He didn’t spend much time in the lounge – preferring to do any studying or non-bridge work in his quarters or the small office set aside for the ship’s executive officer – but he knew a lot of the crew spent their off hours there. It was a spacious area and partitions broke it up into several useful configurations for entertainment, informal meetings, and study. There was even a wet bar that Spencer ensured was well stocked with salty snacks, sweet treats, and drinks.

The primary lounge was bustling as Bastien walked in and he exchanged greetings with quite a few of the crewmen present. Many were from the Beta shift, up on Deck Three early in order to get in a bit of studying or fun before work began. Some of the crewmen were Gamma shift and would soon be heading back to their quarters to sleep. There were even a few Alpha shift crew present, sitting at the stationary data terminals which they had linked to their assigned shipboard duties. Everything looked good so Bastien meandered toward the other exit, already thinking about his upcoming exercise. Crewman Olivera, sitting at a table with several others, waved at him as he started to pass. “Hey Commander,” she said and Bastien altered his course to greet her. She worked in Sickbay and he’d shared a shift with her when he picked up a shift there.

“Crewman,” he said with a nod. “How’s everything going?”

“Well, Ser,” she responded. “We’re busy studying. I… um… I’m having some trouble with this particular chemistry problem. Do you think you could help me out?” Bastien smiled and nodded, leaning over the table to look at her tablet. He recognized the issue from his own certification training.

“Of course.” It only took five minutes to clear up the young crewman’s confusion and, by the time Bastien was done explaining, he saw that Olivera understood and could proceed forward on her own. He looked around the table and saw that one of the crewmen was in the engineering department and the other three were security personnel. “Anyone else having any trouble?” The four shook their heads in the negative and Bastien grinned. “Anyone studying anything interesting?” The crewmen lit up at the senior officer’s interest and each proceeded to tell Bastien a bit about what they were working on. He nodded and asked a few lightly probing questions. “And what about you, Crewman Khan?” Bastien asked, turning to one of Noah’s people. The young man grinned.

“Working on an operations certification, Ser,” Khan said. “Inter-system realignment. I’m acing it.”

Bastien felt his eyebrows raise slightly. “Really?” he said. “That’s interesting. Is it tough?”

“No,” Khan answered. “I should have the certification by tomorrow I think.”

“Nice,” Bastien responded. “That’s not a security certification, right? It’s in the operations department?”

“Yes Ser,” Khan said with a nod. “Once I have it, I’ll have access to a few other higher-tier operations certs.”

“I see,” Bastien said. “Are you working on any security certifications too or just focusing on operations?”

“We’re all doing security certifications,” Crewman Austin interrupted. Bastien glanced at her. She, like Khan, was one of Noah’s people. “But Lieutenant Commander Wright told us we can study other mission-critical divisions in our off time so long as we work on security certifications while on duty.”

“I’m working on the small-arms maintenance and procedures certification while on duty. I should have that one in a day or so too,” Khan said enthusiastically. “Then I’m going to tackle basic ship-to-ship tactical analysis after that.”

“Excellent,” Bastien said with a slightly forced smile, doing his best not to allow his frustration with the other senior officer to show. Bastien told the assembled crew to continue their hard work before excusing himself from the lounge and heading toward the gym.

His aggravation grew with each step. Noah knew that the captain had wanted the crew to focus on their own responsibilities and gaining certifications in their assigned divisions before trying to cross-train. They’d made a general announcement about that very subject and had even gone so far as to provide guidance on what was, and was not, considered mission-critical educational opportunities. While she hadn’t ordered the crew to narrowly tailor their studies, the message had been clear. If you were security, work on security certs. If you were engineering, work on engineering certs. They were all still cadets, no matter the acting ranks they claimed, and none of them measured up to true crew when it came to experience and knowledge. If they were going to get home, that gap had to be rectified as soon as possible.

The overwhelming desire to give Noah a piece of his mind struck Bastien just as he entered the gym so used his IBP to ping the automated ship systems and find out where the chief of security was at that moment. The response indicated that Noah was in his quarters. “Probably asleep,” Bastien muttered to himself with an angry sigh. He could march down and wake the lieutenant commander but Bastien pushed that thought aside. Charging into another’s quarters to yell at them would be… poor form. Instead, he approached one of the treadmills, activated it, and began a slow jog.

The next hour was filled with vigorous exercise, Bastien working up a sweat on the treadmill before moving on to lift weights. He didn’t speak to the other crew who were exercising nearby. He was too angry. Noah had done a great job over the months to get under Bastien’s skin and Bastien felt a sense of vindictive pleasure as he thought about the confrontation that was to come the next time he ran into Noah. He was the senior officer. Noah was junior to him. He’d tear into the other young man with all the authority his rank allowed and, by the time he was done, Noah would know just how badly he’d screwed up. It would probably get around the Grace, of course, and everyone would be talking about the dressing down the chief of security had received for undermining the captain’s goals. Noah would be forced to stop acting like a pain in the rear and the captain would thank Bastien for—

“Commander?” a small voice said nearby.

“What?” Bastien snapped, turning his head to look at the junior crewman who was standing next to him. The boy, one of the youngest members of the crew if Bastien remembered correctly, jumped back as if slapped. The fear on the kid’s face caused Bastien to take a deep breath and soften his tone. “I’m sorry, Crewman Leeds. I was in the zone and you startled me. Everything alright?”

“Uh… yes Ser,” the boy said as he pointed to the weight rack right in front of Bastien and then to the small weight in his own hand. “I wanted to put this back, Ser, but you were standing right in front of the rack.”

Bastien looked down and saw that he was, indeed, right in front of the weight rack. He hadn’t noticed, his thoughts swirling angrily in his mind and making him less aware of his surroundings. Bastien stepped back and gestured to the rack, giving the young crewman a reassuring smile as the boy stepped forward to place his weight in its proper place. “Sorry about that, crewman. Like I said, I was sort of in the zone and I wasn’t paying attention. Feel free to push me out of the way if it happens again.” Bastien offered the boy a conspiratorial grin, which was returned.

“Yes, Ser,” Crewman Leeds said before turning to go.

Bastien let out another deep breath and put his own weights away. Then he headed for the gym’s exit, needing to get back to his quarters for a brief shower before Beta shift began. By the time he walked onto the Bridge twenty minutes later, his aggravation with Noah had diminished considerably. What hadn’t diminished was his irritation and embarrassment at allowing his emotions to run wild.