Spinward Fringe Broadcast 0: Origins

by Randolph Lalonde

She smiled brightly and nodded. “Deal.”

  Before long we were hard at work, going through the post-refit ship configuration, reviewing the five staff members she had selected, and passing ideas back and forth about modifications we would be making to many of this ship's systems before the simulation started. Some of the changes she'd be making would be minor tweaks, but there were some very forward-thinking ideas that came from her side of the table, and a couple more obvious ones from mine.

  Her imprint was already all over the redesign. She had added seals and housings that would make the ship completely impenetrable to any electromagnetic weapon while the inner hull was intact. She knew the ship like no one else, and I recognized that I couldn't possibly have a better engineer aboard. She was very easy to work with as well, willing to explain the new, and allowing me to ask all my questions without worrying about looking like I had just spent years on basic communications detail. My experience kept me from looking foolish, but I had gotten a little behind on a few important systems.

  At about nine thirty we knew we were out of time but with all the work out on the table, we were glad we were only preparing for a scenario. Some of our ideas would require much more time or manpower than we had to prepare if we were really applying them to the ship, while in the scenario we could spend several hours and have them all done with competent help. Everyone would be busy, especially considering there were to be two drills a day using completely different scenes each time.

  When it was time for her to finish getting ready for the assembly. we embraced for a little longer than two people who were just friends would. “I'm glad I signed on,” she said quietly.

  “I couldn't do this without you.”

  She looked up to me and smiled before we moved apart. She was out the door in a few steps and that was the last time I saw that side of her.

  Chapter 5

  Training

  The common room was different from the rest of the ship. There were one-by-one meter port holes spread out along the front and sides, but that's where the extravagance ended. The tables and chairs were synthetic wood and at least forty years old, some even older by the looks of it. There was an old dartboard, suspensor table, and space in the centre was cleared for holoprojections.

  The floors were covered with a scarred, short ended, spray on shag application that was peeling in some places and the walls were unpainted. To the left there was an archway with its emergency doors shut, and to the right another archway with one of its emergency doors detached completely and propped up beside the opening. I knew this room was considered non-essential, but I had never seen such disrepair anywhere in a starship.

  Some effort had been made to tidy up, I could tell, but no one had time to actually repair anything.

  “Captain on deck!” Oz yelled as soon as the main doors opened. In a matter of seconds, commissioned and non-commissioned officers alike were in a line along the front of the back wall. All of them were in uniform, arranged by rank, at attention with their eyes front and hands at their sides. I knew that I had met each one of them in the simulations we ran, spoken to many of them for an hour or more while we waited for the scenarios to load up with opponents. I had discussed strategy with a good number of them for hours, talked about details of our lives, our jobs. I didn't recognize the majority of them, since I had never seen their faces and we didn't use real names.

  I stood up straight and ran my eyes from highest ranking at the left where Ayan stood, to the lowest on the right. I didn't recognize the dark haired woman I saw there. “As you all know, I am Trainee Captain Jonas S Valent, your commanding officer. My call sign in the simulations was Horus. We've been given an opportunity to demonstrate our skills in an exercise that will determine whether or not we can take a real rank in the Freeground Fleet. This is a unique opportunity for two reasons. One, we avoid criminal charges or fines, and two; we can all become a part of a crew together in defence of our home. I've never heard of anyone getting this kind of opportunity. That being said, I don't expect everyone to take advantage of it. Many have already decided against the risks, chosen to become permanent civilians, and I can't blame them. I will still call them friends when this is over.

  “Since we were able to engage in simulated combat with not only trainees but some of the best Freeground's Fleet had to offer and we kicked their asses, they want to see what we can do when the stakes are much higher. Each one of us will enter into this simulation knowing that if we are killed we will individually be tried in court for our roles in violating military security laws.” I waited a moment for the stakes to sink in and watched as a few of them started to look nervous. To my surprise they waited patiently for me to go on. "Now that I've made sure that you understand all the conditions of the Fleet's offer, here's what I have to say about it. Everyone here is aware that in most scenes, someone's avatar dies. Whether it's by rare accident, a conscious sacrifice to ensure win conditions are met, or because for just an instant someone else was better than you, someone's avatar almost always dies. I expect the projected casualties for whatever simulation we're dropped into to be very high, and that some of our avatars will be killed. That is simply a reality and the Admiral made me aware of it herself.

  “If your avatar dies I will stand beside you and the rest of our fallen and do absolutely everything I can to ensure that the consequences are lenient whether we win the scenario or not. If there is a way for me to get you out of having to stand in court, I will find it for you. If we fail as a crew to meet the win conditions of whatever scenario we find ourselves in, however, I don't expect I'll have much influence with the administrative staff. We have to work as a crew united, just like we were in the scenarios, putting the group ahead of ourselves and working for success as a team. That is why, despite our eclectic make up, I believe we were able to lick trainees and experienced personnel at their own scenes. Individual skill is one thing, and we all have it, but it means so much more when you apply those skills as an organized crew. We'll be working drills every day leading up to the final scenario so we can tighten up our teamwork.

  “That brings me to what I see in front of me now. Once, we were a team in a simulated environment, and though our challenge now will take place in a scenario, the Fleet has been kind enough to bring us all together on this fine ship. I'm assuming that it's another part of the test. They want to see if we can get along as well in person as we did in the sims. I'd like you to take a moment to quietly look at the faces in this room, think of the relationships you have with them, how good it felt to meet them in person for the first time.”

  I mentally counted to thirty, watching as my crew calmly looked at each other. At first there were some quiet nods, then a few smiles were exchanged and by the time I finished counting a few were just starting to quietly whisper to each other. “There's no doubt in my mind that this crew is good together. It's too bad some couldn't follow us on this particular adventure, but we can't blame them, can we? Could you imagine entering this simulation, doing your best and getting your avatar killed? After a few moments to say goodbye to everyone you'd be brought to a cell, then a few quiet days would pass as friends and family visited, before you stood before the Military Judiciary Council. Some of us have a great deal to lose. We have family, property, responsibilities, but I'm going to ask you to forget all that for a moment.

  “Instead, imagine yourself coming through this thing as one of the virtual survivors. Take a moment to visualize all those win conditions met, and when the simulation is over, a select few of us are in the winner's circle and awarded with a career rank in the Freeground Fleet.” I paused for a few moments then, and noticed that only the previously commissioned officers were staring straight ahead, the rest were looking right at me. “Now, like I said, it is a dead certainty that some avatars will be killed, there is no way to victory in this scenario without sacrifice. As you stand in that winner's circle with a few crew members, you're watching as others say their goodbyes. Some of them are angry, oth
ers are disappointed. A few may be able to keep a stiff upper lip as they congratulate you, and I'm sure still more are in tears because they know they'll be headed straight into the court system, about to be processed and deposited straight into the stockade.

  “What would you want to do? I'm sure that every single one of you would want to step forward and do everything you can to share the victory they worked as hard as you did to accomplish. That is a very special thing, to have the opportunity to stand up and honour those that sacrificed so you could go on and lead your life. Every one of us is just one candle held up against the darkness that surrounds us. We aren't much in our singularity. Bring those points of light together, into a crew who works for the good of the whole, who can make good decisions for themselves and others, who can trust the men and woman at their sides, and suddenly that one candle grows with the light of many and we are an inferno that presses anything that would violate us back into the darkness.

  “I say we'll win this, because I know you and I trust you all to do what you have to and more to keep our fires burning through to the end. When some of us stand in that winners circle, I say we all step forward and tell Admiral Rice and the administrative staff that they take all of us or none and anyone who doesn't agree with that should leave now, because it's your last chance to drag yourself and your kit down that ramp with your dignity intact!”

  Oz stepped forward, started shouting, “All or none! All or none!” and all but one man who stepped forward joined in. He walked right up and fixed me with a sad smile then shook my hand. The chant was beginning to falter at the sight of one fellow quitting, so I said, “I understand. Good luck,” to him quickly.

  As he departed I joined in on the chant and it rose to a deafening roar before we were finished.

  When the chanting abated and people had started talking amongst themselves, I got Oz and Ayan's attention. When they came closer I told them that we'd break so we could continue to get acquainted and then continue with the agenda after lunch. During that break, I met everyone and managed to connect everyone's face with their voice in the scenes and what role they played. I was starting to feel pretty lucky about who had stayed on. So far it was a selection of the best, with few exceptions, and even then the lacklustre members of my new crew had practical experience that would come in handy.

  Before long I realized we only had three fighter pilots. Minh-Chu was the only one with any experience in the military, and he'd never really been outside the infantry. Oz came over to the table I was sitting at with a couple other crewmen. I was nursing another coffee and had become lost in my own thoughts, mentally reviewing the roster and what was missing. He tapped me on the shoulder and we moved to a table in the corner.

  “You look like you're doing that deep thinking thing again.”

  I looked at the nineteen crew members left in the room. Including Oz and myself there were twenty one. “We're seriously short. Our finest are sticking around, but we need eleven more fighter pilots, at least fifteen more engineering personnel, thirteen more security people, and at least twenty eight specialized crew including fighter mechanics, general maintenance, computer specialists and a few others. We're also missing communications officers, a second shift on the bridge staff, our legal officer, and I'm sure I'm missing something.”

  “Your second officer.”

  “Right, and there's no one other than Ayan with a rank that would put them up there and I need her to run Engineering.” I watched as some of the non-military put trays out. As directed by Ayan, all the non-military joiners from our team wore the uniform and rank of private or ensign, putting them at the bottom. “These people are good in a simulation, but even in a scenario with automation we're really low and that's going to hurt us. The Admiral is allowing me to choose some trained officers. I thought that would help but now that I've got a head count I'm not sure what kind of scenario we can win.”

  “Well, we can assume that we won't need the second shift so that's a lot fewer right there, bringing us down to sixty six, then there are the officers which makes us fifty eight short.” Oz smiled nervously. “So what you're saying is this is going to be interesting.”

  “Without knowing how long the simulation will be, what kind of situations we'll run into, or what the win conditions are it's hard to cut corners, but we don't have much of a choice. How many security personnel can you manage with?”

  “Minimally? Five would be the smallest effective counter incursion team but if we're boarded in two places we can only secure one location.”

  “Okay, then we arm everyone who isn't liable to shoot themselves, you're going to have to train them. I'll set you up with a primary team of five and they'll have to do. If we're boarded in two or more places, you go for the nearest incursion and everyone else will have to keep the boarders bottled up until your team can get to them.”

  “It makes sense, but we'll lose some specialists that way.”

  Ayan set down her tray and motioned for an ensign to bring two more as she sat down. “I joined the Junior Military Academy when I was fourteen. Graduated right before my eighteenth and celebrated my birthday in Fleet Academy boot.”

  Oz laughed in surprise and looked her up and down. “Really? No offence, but I wouldn't have guessed.”

  She shrugged and smiled. “I was a bored military brat looking to rebel against my stuck up Fleet mother, so as soon as I reached the qualifying age for infantry cadet training at fourteen I signed up. I was a tall girl at five foot one then, but I stopped growing at five three. So I just got stronger than everyone else. My mother was out captaining a ship somewhere and I was able to convince my aunt to sign for my enrolment. I finished my first semester before my mother the Admiral got back.

  You should have seen her face when she got home and found her muscular daughter in her infantry gear. There's nothing like the daughter of a high ranking Fleet officer signing up for Infantry and beating her mum's entrance marks,” Ayan smiled and shook her head at the memory before going on. “She realized that it was better than me running off and breeding with some high school boy so she let it happen. I finished three more years in cadets and slid right into the Fleet Engineering and Officer's program. I don't know if I could bench press my own body weight anymore, but these days I prefer yoga anyway.” She said with a grin.

  “Well, there goes that myth. It seems half of fleet still thinks that the Admiral had a hand in getting you into the Academy right after your eighteenth birthday in both of the hardest programs they have at the same time.” Oz said.

  “So you've been checking my file and asking about me, Oz?” She said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a hand on her hip. “Do we have a personal issue to discuss here, Warrant Officer?”

  Watching her make a man easily twice her size so completely uncomfortable made my day. I don't think I've ever made Oz squirm as much as she did just then. “I've been looking everyone up, you know, to make sure I know what they can do.” He said quickly before digging into his salad. I don't think he even looked at it before assaulting it with his fork.

  I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head. “Okay, so you can lead your staff in an incursion. Oz will train them with everyone else and engineering won't be a soft target.”

  Ayan said, “I have an idea that might help us with our security situation too. During the scene, let's all keep our vacsuits sealed up, hood and all. We'll clear all the unnecessary decks and if we get an incursion we'll blow the seals in that section. They might be boarding in vacsuits or armour, but I'm sure if we time it right it'll slow them down, maybe even blow them right out into space. Sealed suit or not, it will probably take them some time to boost back to an airlock.”

  “That could work, it's a really old strategy, but it could work,” Oz said around a mouth full of lettuce.

  “It's an old ship. There's enough metal in five feet of deck plating to build a modern Raze fighter. The Fleet built her before the form fit adaptable vacsuit was invented, so decompressio
n was an even bigger issue then and people couldn't run around in a suit they could seal in under three seconds with their hands free. They also had more ergranian steel than they knew what to do with from the Blue Belt. Too bad they lost it ages ago.”

  “If we keep this up we might only need the officers the Admiral offered. The only problem is, we have no wing commander.”

  “What about Minh-Chu?”

  “He works alone better than anyone I've seen, but he takes a lot of risks and doesn't always track what everyone else is doing,” I replied, though it stung to admit it. “He's our best pilot, and he's had actual time in the cockpit, but I'm not sure of him.”

  “I think he's going on the understanding that he's your wing commander. I've heard him talk about it a few times now, and he's not thinking like a soloist anymore, for the most part. I'd give him a shot.” Oz said quietly.

  “'Balance against uncertainty with sure things and reliable people.' Officer training 101. He might be good, probably has the mind for it, and I know he can command people on the ground. I saw it in the war, but I've never seen him do it in the cockpit,” I replied.

  Ayan fixed me with a serious look. “So set him up as your wing commander in the drills, and request a qualified commander from the Admiral. That way you're giving him a chance and providing for the possibility of him going off on his own when it counts. He'll have a second in command who can pick up the slack. I'm surprised this is something you haven't thought your way through. Excuse me, I have to get my staff together, it's almost time to resume the briefing.”

  Oz and I watched her walk away. “She runs hot and cold on a millisecond's notice. Keeps us guessing, that's for sure,” he muttered.

  “She's under a lot of pressure, and the few of us who are officers are trying to balance the friendships we have here with our professional responsibilities. We're trained for it, but these are unusual circumstances. A lot of these people aren't used to taking orders from a superior officer.”