Captain Howard did this on purpose, the punk. Arrayed before me are eight Seamen and Petty Officers, saluting me as I exit my fighter into the multi-use bay. I tip my hat at them and then again to the Lieutenant sent to fetch me and follow me to the bridge.
“Lieutenant, have accommodations been made for my crew to have meals aboard the Kismet?”
“Yes, Marshal. Your civilian counterparts will be welcome in the officer’s mess for both dinner and breakfast, unless you would prefer to have the Flag Mess operating for your visit?”
Ahh, the loaded question. I should make Rickman take on that burden for having that stupid show greet me, however, he wouldn’t really suffer for it, and it would make me look like an asshole. “That will not be necessary.” The ship isn’t overlong, 125m long, 25m tall, and 30m wide for the basic fuselage, the Kismet has more than enough space to hold the 70 person crew and it’s advanced systems. The main reason it isn’t more comfortable, is that it is build to hold a company of Marines, four troop carrier shuttles, six exo-suits and enough equipment to deploy a field base for the whole compliment of people. This class of ship was specifically built to deal with planetary incursions as early and as quickly as possible.
“Attention on Deck!” someone yells as we walk into the bridge.
“At ease,” I reply, irritated for some reason. Why am I so irritated that they’re being respectful? Because I don’t need the pomp and circumstance, I haven’t been in the service long enough to warrant it.
Nor do you think you’re worth the effort, despite seven years in the U.S. and Astorian Navy, and ten years as a Marshal for the busiest Frontier in the Empire.
I mean, when you say it all together like that it’s different than just the years in the Frontier. I guess I did put in more than just the two and a half years in the Navy. I was enlisted as well, so that’s likely a part of why I’m uncomfortable with this. I feel like as a regular Marshal I was just a person doing a job I liked. As a Senior Marshal, I’m in charge of more than just my small team, like the CEO of a Marshal enterprise or something. With a starting budget larger than most towns in the sector.
Did you ever ask how long that is supposed to last? Ten million credits is a lot to start, but a lot less if it’s supposed to last the five years of this trial run.
Kip, say I get up to fifty employees, and I pay them at a level that Darcy and Rob get—650 credits a year plus an average meal supplement of 50 credits a year. That’s only 175k credits over five years for pay. With each base costing around three quarters million and the three shuttles being a 200k each, I still have just under seven million remaining! Before you say it, yes, I know I should just talk with my girlfriend.
You should also consider that the only Senior Marshal in service at the moment might be worthy of a meeting with the Empress on her own.
Huh. When you say it like that, I’ve been pretty stupid about this. Imagine a person with strategic command not thinking strategically. Since I didn’t have any fancy schooling for it, I should probably look for a book or a module on it. So many things to do!
“Something on your mind Marshal?” Howard smirks at me.
“Just plotting my revenge, contemplating who gets the nice chair in the officer’s mess, you know, stuffy admiral things.” I meant it as a tease, but I had considered sitting in his chair at dinner, “Relax Captain, I’m not that petty. Though I am curious why you are squatting between trade lanes halfway to Prospect 3.”
“We deployed several sensor beacons and we are currently at the locus where they can reach our ansible with only a thirty minute delay in receipt.” He seems proud, but with ansibles I would wonder it’s not near instantaneous.
“Is the delay for detection purposes?”
“It is. At fifteen light minutes from the transit lane entrance and exit, our sensors should be undetectable from most local and foreign merchant vessels.”
“Smart. I’m glad that this ship and its expertise are here to help. Sorry if it’s not the command mission you were hoping for.”
I expected the Captain to say something, but the Lieutenant that led me here chimed in first.
“Marshal, having something more than drills to do is a blessing in itself. The Marines are still bored though.”
“Hah, well, when the shuttle I’m about to borrow comes back, you could have them practice ship to ship boarding with small vessels. Unless you routinely perform Coast Guard-style operations.”
“We have not in the past. However, rumors at turnover say that the Empress and the Governors are not satisfied with the amount of smuggling and thus tariffs earned because of it and want to start putting a something like a Coast Guard together.”
I nod, I thought something similar. A corvette like this would be best against large merchants with escorts, but I think most smuggling would be best combat by something the size of my Expedition Fighter. “I would not be surprised if the Empress were using us to test that as well.”
“I think that would be excellent to consider after a year or two, but perhaps we should set the speculation aside.”
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I shrug and move off toward the 3D projected Nav table. “Kismet, please move current display to a representation as an inset on the forward view port and upload Pinkie Finger facility data.” Someone names a gas giant Pinkie Pie and they called all the moons Pinkie Fingers. The Dash folks were so spun up with the change in rules, they didn’t designate a place for the base, so I picked a temperate moon about the size of Mars, save this body is protected by Pinkie Pie’s grav-field and still has an atmosphere.
“Would you like to temporarily enable your HUD control preferences to the Navigation table, Senior Marshal?”
“Oh! Yes please.” I say and an image of the moon and our prospective base and equipment are shown in opaque frames. I manipulate the representation and begin to pace around the table, and the two most prominent features in my eyes are the three-story hangar and the deep-set utilities modules, one connected to the main building and one to the far side of the hangar, both connected by a small vertical shaft with a lift-ladder. The main building is a relatively squat office building with a set of coms dishes next to it on the surface, the next three layers are radially segmented arc segment where one connects to the Hangar on each level. Seems pretty cool, and I think I could fit a battalion in there if I had to.
After my initial perusal start adding the comms suites, the atmosphere and other services, and of course a gym and 60% of the non-hangar space just gets filled up with gear. This explains a lot of why military bases are so big. Save Astoria, most of those are in space or on Mercy.
There is nowhere in this diagram to substantially recharge aether devices. The utilities provide a small amount but trickle a shuttle on that would take months. Luckily Kitty has a collector onboard that can fully recharge her in days.
Finished with what I wanted the table for, I request that Kismet re-load the Nav plot before walking over and sitting in the most central big comfy chair on the bridge. I search for an access panel and find a recessed cable attachment, which I pretend to plug into my wrist—I absorb the receptacle instead.
“Kismet, have you or supply done any analysis of areas of the ship that may be adversely affected by a five-year deployment in this capacity?”
“Yes, Marshal. Should I collate and prioritize for you?”
“Prioritize in groups as follows: Work that can be done by the current crew; work that needs a specialist or team to be hired; and work that needs an available industrial assistance in the Brony systems.”
The whole list takes maybe a second to transfer. There’s over a hundred things in the first group alone, but the descriptions don’t exactly fill me with the same priority as they have been sorted in.
/Kismet, request sensor link via command cable. I would like a tour of this list via said link./
\Initiating\
My consciousness sinks into her system and suddenly all the sensors start sending me inputs at once and I feel a sharp pain in my skull before I can reduce the inputs to internal inputs pertinent to the list. I can tell my breathing is laden, but my brain is so saturated with the ship’s information, I’m having a hard time monitoring my own.
I can regulate your autonomic functions, just try to stop your implant and your brain from melting.
Good man Kip. I feel Kismet helping me filter and prioritize the inputs and noise as she realizes what I’m attempting to do, and then she proceeds to lead me on the tour I requested. Multi-step atmospheric scrubbers need to be modified for the Marines being long-term guests, the loading and shuttle bays are not equipped with the winches or cranes necessary to do in-G or zero G maintenance. Water and food reclamators are not equipped to sustain a crew of this size, insufficient emergency air junctions in Marine and cargo spaces, and a list of increasingly minor problems that would eventually affect morale.
The Next tour transitions us to engineering, showing degradation over long periods that may occur due to the new mission of the ship, aether charge and discharge rate decay projection over five years, docking and storage clamp recommendations on the outer hull and a surprisingly risky shield modification that requires a highly skilled magitech technician as far as I can tell.
I wonder if this is a custom job.
->K] It is, Marshal. It would harden us against the antenna array you’re building on Pinkie Toe III. [<-
->M] Oh, you tapped into my new mind link. That’s a little scary and neat.[<-
->K] Your brain and my Kernel are fully open to each other when you initiated the sensory link the way you did. This is hardly more invasive.[<-
Lady’s got a point. ->M] Is there any way that jump can be lest painful?[<-
->K] My analysis has recommended a configuration to your Symbiote and AI. I would have to perform surgery or you can use a module to install it. I’ve also installed a bit of code into your implant that throttles your initial sensor input to ten types that match your sensory cortexes. Kitty says your link with her was much more instinctual.[<-
->M] I may have explained it better, or she was informed of my absorption ability in advance. [<-
I think I saw enough to keep me busy, there’s not much chance that we’re going to get any industrial scale maintenance approved out here, so groups one and two seem manageable. One of the things I don’t’ like about our situation is the lack of ability to change the mission. What if I need to secure a mining crew on an asteroid while shuttle teams prep for recovery? What if we need to accept large equipment, but also need the shuttles for interdictions and boardings?
->M] Kismet, I want to give you have a million credits to make some mods and buy some mission gear, and whatever is left you can make the changes you’ve been eyeing. The changes I want are multi-module mounting brackets. Some would need all utilities for a mounted shuttle, some would only need air and electricity for a mounted drop pod that would accommodate a Marine exo-suit. If you don’t already have an aether collector, one to mount that too. I want at least two shuttle connections and six drop pod connections. [<-
->K] An agreeable opportunity, Marshal. Attachable mission components are a frivolity according to the current Naval mindset. But with the Empire’s near-infinite storage ability, these modules could be stored and retrieved for expedition deployments without having to rediscover the equipment. I have a versatile mission statement, I appreciate the thoughts on flexibility. As this may conclude the business you wanted to complete, I should recommend you attempt to sleep or rest for a few hours while Kip and your Talent repair the bleed and restructuring in your cranium.[<-
What the hell?! It sounds like synching with her almost killed me.
->K] Apologies for intruding again, but it was very dangerous for you. It is why I recommended the physical and programming changes. I will also assure you, that anything I have learned from this connection, I will not disclose. [<-
->M] Yeah, if it helps me synch with Kitty, then I’m all for it. And thanks, people knowing I can absorb talents and skills could make me a target. [<-
I get a feeling of confirmation and decide to take another ship’s recommendation and rest. I tap into the auditory and visual sensors on the outside of the ship and just sink into the comfort of the void.