by Chris Hechtl
The problem with Saul was he was an informal man. He, like a lot of engineers, liked to get his hands dirty; he didn't like to be stuck in a stuffy uniform in a meeting. He'd had his fill of that during his tour at the Annex. His whole reason for accepting the transfer to Firefly was so he could get back into the guts of a ship. He'd made that plain in his initial interview with Renee.
But the XO was stubborn. He went after the chief, even chasing him into the head one time before the smell of the chief’s number two had forced a hasty retreat. He'd come looking for him later though. The chief had been busy and noncommunicative to the point of surly. The XO had considered filing charges of insubordination and apparently had said as such. The Chief had told him to do whatever the hell he wanted but he was busy and either get with the program or get the hell out of engineering.
The skipper heard about the confrontation from Firefly and decided an intervention was long overdue. She called Dart in to her wardroom to have a chat. He was still seething over it all.
“I want his ass,” Simon growled. “He's disrespectful. He should know better,” the XO said in clipped tones. “He clearly undermined my authority in front of the crew.”
Renee snorted. Dart had climbed back up on his high horse as soon as the line crossing had been finished. He'd hated it, but as the keeper of tradition he hadn't been able to get out of it. Fortunately, the next time he participated it would be as an observer. But now he seemed to be taking things out on the crew. She didn't like that. She also didn't like turf wars in her officers.
“You do realize he's attending to the needs and function of the ship and crew. He's doing his duty so he has a valid excuse to not be at these parties you keep arranging and to be short with you while he's in the middle of a delicate job,” Renee pointed out. “One that could endanger the ship if it was mishandled or interrupted,” she finished.
His eyes widened briefly over that last. He frowned thoughtfully. She cocked her head, wondering just how far Dart was willing to push it. By now most of the crew probably knew about the confrontation. If not from the enlisted grapevine, then no doubt from Ensign Stephanie Drum, her JTO. Drum was a gossip, and she kept up with the latest and juiciest tidbits. She also lovingly shared them with anyone who would listen the Captain thought wryly.
“It is slack; they need, we need to stick to tradition. To rebuild it from the ground up, ma'am,” he insisted.
“And here I thought this was my ship,” she pointed out mildly. He flushed slightly. “Everyone is rather busy you know; we can't drop everything to do this every single night. The safety of the ship is paramount, that and the health and safety of the crew.”
“Yes, ma’am. Allow me to point out that having the officers present allows you and me to assess their mental and physical condition,” Commander Dart said stubbornly.
“And I thought I had a say in that too,” Captain Firefly said from the holo table.
Captain Mayweather glanced at the AI and then back to the XO. The XO's jaw flexed a bit. “He's right,” she said, nodding her head in the AI's direction. “Also, waking the officers who were off duty and resting in their bunks is rude and damaged morale. It also throws off their biorhythm and therefore their performance,” the Captain said. “It's also against regulations to require the officers on duty to be there, correct?” she asked. He nodded.
“There is a time and place for protocol, Commander. But being too rigid, too hide bound is asking for trouble. It makes you inflexible. We need to be supple, adaptable. Though yes, we need to bend the other way as well from time to time I suppose,” she said grimacing.
The XO didn't come away well from the exchange. She did throw him a bone though, agreeing to weekly dinners and dinners when they were hosting guests.
When he left she called the Chief in to have a second discussion about respect due a senior officer and putting up with things you don't like. “There is a time and a place for such things, Chief,” she said. She let him off lightly since she blamed herself in part. She should have put a stop to the nonsense sooner. “Next time, come to me or have a chat with him or Firefly. Find a less public way of having a tantrum. Agreed?”
Saul agreed and apologized. She waved. “Go play with your spanners then. Make it up to Simon by behaving and keeping a low profile. Dismissed,” she said with a hand wave. He saluted and exited. She sighed and shook her head. She made a mental note to stamp on Stephanie if she kept blowing the situation out of proportion.
---(<=>)---
The run to Centennial was without incident. Renee was now confident in her crew and her XO. They had trained well; their last simulation had been a ball buster much like the Antigua battle. She had been pleased that the ship and crew had risen to the challenge just as her previous crew had.
Four point nine days and one point five parsecs later they arrived in Centennial space. Centennial was really just a hop and a skip away from the Janus system. If it had been a couple light years closer they would have been considered a cluster like the Centauri triple star systems had been. “Hail the planet; let them know we're coming,” Renee ordered.
“There won't be a response, ma'am,” Sharif, her new communication's rating said.
Renee frowned and then waved a hand. “It's still protocol, and it is polite. Let them know we're coming,” she ordered.
“Aye, ma'am, hail has been sent.”
“Good. Miss Sharif, a word,” the Captain said. She pulled the young woman off to her wardroom and counseled her quietly to never question orders on the bridge again. The rating nodded, almost in tears. Renee studied her and then dismissed her back to her posting.
She sighed deeply and then rubbed her brow. Sharif was a good kid, but green like many of her crew. The one thing most of the rookies had going for them was that they had learned their jobs from the training centers and academy, along with rising through the ranks in Pyrax. Her original crew had learned mostly on the job. She frowned, remembering the mistakes they had made over the years until they had gotten it right. She vowed to cut them a bit more slack, and again vowed to stop comparing them.
Five days later they arrived in Centennial orbit. The planet was blue with patches of green. But ominous signs of an orbital bombardment could be seen; giant craters where once villages and towns had stood.
“Captain, no responses to our hails. There is no sign of life down there,” the XO formally informed her. “Are we going to stick with the plan?” he asked. The XO like many of the crew had been sickened by the sight of the planet's newly-acquired scars. Many shied away from thinking about how they had gotten them. Firefly had reported a down tick in morale; the crew were quietly contemplating the planet and the implications of what had happened to the innocent people there. Some had brought up the thought of it happening to other worlds as well.
Renee nodded. “Those are our orders.” She turned to Firefly's avatar. “Send down the Marines. Warn them not to engage; we're friends.”
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
The Marines found surviving towns, villages and cities had all been abandoned. Farms near them had also been abandoned; some recently from one report of food left out on a hardwood table. Orbital thermal imaging found signs people were hiding in caves.
“Should we investigate, ma'am?” The XO asked.
Renee shook her head no. “They know the caves. It's their home. They will just go deeper, or our people might back them into a corner and something might happen that all sides would regret. No, follow the baker set of orders. We'll leave them material, a radio and a message. That's the best we can do now.”
“Aye, ma'am. All of it?”
“Yes. Medical supplies and solar panels as well. Hopefully, it will help them.”
“Hopefully, they won't be so fearful the next time we come through you mean?”
“They can't trust anyone Commander; I can't blame them. They've been battered and don't know who to trust. I think we'll also leave a satellite in orbit, and another hidden to monit
or traffic.”
The XO frowned and then slowly nodded.
“Make it so number one.”
---(<=>)---
Firefly had an uneventful jump through hyper to Beta 449b.
“Anything?” Renee asked, hands behind her head. She told herself again not to pace. She had to be patient; after all, it took time for the ship's systems and especially sensors to adjust to their new surroundings.
It was one of the things she hated most about jumping, that horrible vulnerable and helpless feeling, not knowing what was outside her own hull. Getting hit when a ship emerged from hyper was a crew's worst nightmare. Whether it was from an enemy, or something as uncaring as a rock or comet. Even a pebble could ruin their whole day if it was coming in fast enough.
“So far, no sign of any recent jump activity here, Captain; we have several ion trails near this jump point, all old.”
“Great. And we can't tell who is who I take it?”
“Not necessarily, ma'am. One of them I can positively fingerprint as Mariah's Mischief.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, ma’am. We fingerprinted her when she came to Pyrax and made her delivery as well as when she was in the Yard. She is one of the few ships in our database.”
“And the other?”
“It is a small ship. I'm not positive. We're also getting faint...yes...” Hrriss frowned thoughtfully. “Yes, I'd say at least two other traces coming from this jump point.”
“Okay...”
“The solar wind and time is playing merry hell with the track skipper. I can't give you much more.”
“Okay...”
“I suggest taking a loop around the system, ma'am. I know the quick course to the B450a jump point is to our port, but I suggest a starboard course that lets us pass the B450d jump point ma'am.”
“Why? Oh, so you can see if those traces went there?”
“Aye, ma'am.”
“All right, navigation, plot the course. Let me know when you have a resolution.”
“Aye, ma'am, plotting now,” the navigator said from his station. “We're still plotting the system though to update our charts so it may be a few minutes.”
“Take your time. It's a dead system anyway,” Renee said with a sigh. She sat in her chair and picked up her half-filled coffee cup. She took a sip and grimaced; it was cold.
“Should we go north to 450a?”
“Why are there multiple systems labeled Beta 450 anyway?” The navigator asked.
“You're asking the wrong person,” Renee said mildly, not looking up from the tablet she was now reading. “The people who did it, did it for their own reasons and are long dead. It's not important. What is important is figuring out where that ship went.”
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
They crossed the system, catching a gravitational assist from a nearby Mercury class planet as they neared the B450d jump point. When they were near a decision point the Captain called a meeting in the wardroom.
“Point of no return people, decision time. What do we have?” Renee asked, leaning forward over the table.
“Skipper, there is a faint but possible ion trail headed from the Beta 450a jump point to the Beta 450d one, ma'am,” Leo, the sensory officer reported.
“The same as the two coming from where we just came from?”
“Yes, ma’am. I can't be certain due to the age and solar wind, but I think it is large enough for the missing ship.”
“What about that smaller trace you found?” The XO asked.
Leo turned to face him. “That I believe was the Phoenix. We didn't have her fingerprint on file, but it's time and speed matches what we knew about the ship.”
“Oh.”
“So, we can keep chasing the phantom wild goose, or...”
“I say head to New Andre,s ma'am. It's the only logical stop for them.”
“Great,” Renee sighed. “I'm glad we tanked up in Gaston.” She glanced at Firefly's avatar. The AI silently nodded his answer to her.
“Me too, ma'am,” Leo said. Others nodded in agreement.
“New Andres it is then,” the Captain said with a nod. “Helm, change course. Nav, start plotting your jump resolutions and calculations.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” the navigator replied with a nod. “We'll need some time to get a proper sensor reading. This jump is new to us. Not many people take this route.”
“It is a bit off the beaten track. New Andres is unfortunate to be in a culd-a-sac. Do we have anything on them?”
“Only the entry in the Encyclopedia Galactica, ma'am. It is an agro world. Some industrialization but not much. Some sort of resort world at some point.”
“Good. The crew needs some leave time,” Purple Thorn said. The XO frowned at her but didn't reply.
Mayweather looked from one senior officer to the other and then shrugged mentally. She had been forced to take a week off in Pyrax while her ship had been in the hands of the Yard. She'd hated it, mainly because Vargess had been out of the system. She had been tempted to look some people up, but in the end had grabbed a couple book files and retreated to a hotel room and vegged for the entire week. She'd thought she'd go stir crazy, but the occasional dinner with Doctor Thornby had helped.
She was a spacer. Leave was much anticipated and sometimes relished, but in some cases dreaded when one had been wound too tightly by duty. She knew her crew was young enough to want that leave though.
She waved an airy hand to dismiss her wool gathering. The bridge officers looked expectantly at her. “Follow protocol number one. Leave a satellite and then we'll move on.”
“I'm glad we've got some to spare. We're running low though, ma'am. Four left,” the quartermaster warned.
“It will do. When we get the chance we'll get some raw materials and replenish our inventory,” Renee said.
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
---(<=>)---
Two days later they jumped to B450d. It was a new jump for them, so they took their time in the Beta band over the two point nine parsec journey until they were certain of their course and bearings. When they exited the jump the ship settled into a long range scan of the jump point.
The ion trails from all three ships led to the next jump point, which had been expected. Once they were certain of that they moved out on course for the next and hopefully final jump in the chase. “Makes sense, there is nothing here, not even gravel. This system doesn't even qualify as a system,” Leo said in disgust.
“It's a stop along the way to keep from getting lost,” the Captain said with a shrug. “How are we with the mapping?” She asked, looking at the sensory rating and then the navigator.
The rating spoke up first. “Almost done skipper. We've updated the charts. Not much has changed from the last Federation survey 750 years ago though. Mainly stellar drift.”
“Good. The sooner you're done, the sooner we're on our way,” Renee said with a nod. They were already half way across the system to the next jump point beyond. Another two days and they would be at the jump point.
“And not soon enough for some of us,” Firefly said. She glanced his way. The AI didn't like an empty system either it seemed.
“Remember to leave a satellite in orbit of the star before we go,” the Captain ordered.
“Aye, ma'am. The boat bay is prepping one now, ma'am,” the XO said.
“Good. Glad you're on top of things number one,” Renee said with a rare complimentary smile to her XO. He nodded, seemingly embarrassed by the compliment.
Once they had their fill of the little data in the system, they moved on and then jumped out to New Andres.
---(<=>)---
In New Andres Firefly immediately moved off the jump point after the ship had recovered. As they did they picked up mass readings nearby. A ship was approaching the point. The ship had a radioactive gas giant and the local sun behind her so it was hard to get clear readings.
Leo did determine that the ship was moving at a steady clip, what looked l
ike her best speed to the jump point based on his initial course and mass readings.
“Com, raise them.”
“Trying now, Captain,” Sharif responded.
Renee waited patiently, reminding herself that there would be an eighty-second delay in getting response from the other ship.
“Captain, from her silhouette CIC is tentatively identifying her as a bulk freighter. They are giving us even odds of it being the Kiev 221,” Leo reported. He frowned though; he didn't like going off scant data. He was a precision sort of man.
Renee, however, nodded, glad their chase was finally over or soon would be. “They are certain of the ID? It's not one of the other two ships?”
“Yes, ma’am, as certain as they can be given the local circumstances,” the sensory officer replied with a sniff.
The Captain nodded. “Finally! Put us through.”
The communication's rating looked up from her station with one hand to her ear. “Trying to skipper. She isn't answering the hail.”
The Captain frowned thoughtfully. “If I was trapped in a culd-a-sac system with a potential warship in front of the jump point, I'd be a little leery about replying too,” Firefly said.
“Or it could be interference, sir, from the star.”
“Possibly. They do have civilian equipment.”
“Anything on sensors?”
“Sensor resolution is poor. CIC is trying to clean it up now skipper,” the exec said, sounding distracted.
Mayweather frowned again and then turned to the communication's rating. “Sharif, send them the Admiral's signal. Look up the Captain's name and send that. Hell, put me on if you have to.”
“I'll try the first one, ma'am, and then add them if I don't get a response,” the rating replied with a nod.
“Whatever works. Range?”
“We're about twelve point two million kilometers out. Call it roughly forty-one light seconds.”
“So one-way conversation...closure rate?”
“Call it...a thousand kilometers per second. That is falling, we're getting a return; the ship is slowing.”
