Copyright © 1997, 1998
Last updated on 1/21/98
Gemini Arbiter
In unison, the twins yell, "HEEYYY!" as they topple forward onto 'Vouf. He gets a whiff of perfume (identical scents) as he hits the floor with his soft double handful.
Picking themselves up off the floor once again, they back up a little farther from the bridge.
"Oh no! Not...", begins Aurelia.
"I thought you hit the hallway release!", exclaims Nikki.
"I thought I did too!" wails Aurelia.
Bhyarrvouf gets up off the deck, shaking his head wearily.
"Iasic", says Nikki, "Would you clean up the bridge?"
Slowly, both women move towards the bridge.
"I don't think he heard you." comments Aurelia quietly.
'Vouf's ears swivel forward at that, and he frowns.
Nikki shrugs. "Actually, we're lucky you hit the wrong button. I hate that stuff! Besides, it's easier to clean the bridge."
Aurelia replies, "Good. Then you can do it."
At the bridge hatch, Nikki pushes the comm channel switch and asks, "Iasic are you there?" Aside to Aurelia she snaps, "...What do you mean me! You hit the stupid button!"
Instead of IASIC's voice, the Gemini Arbiter's computer, affectionately known as Arby, responds to the intercom request. _Who is Iasic?_
"Arby?" shouts Aurelia, "Is that you?"
_Affirmative._ replies the computer. _My systems have been off line. Would you elaborate?_
Turning to 'Vouf, Nikki smiles and remarks, "It looks like your ride is gone!"
The only light on the bridge of the Korondor Talisman is the ringworld's sun, shining in through the front ports of the free trader. All the normal shipboard noises have stopped, and the quiet would be deafening were it not for the surprised shouts of the crew. The ship is falling, falling, free fall as the artificial gravity is gone; fortunately, almost everyone is still in their chairs from general quarters.
When the lights go out aboard the Talisman a low voiced "shit" is heard from the area of the pilots seat.
....and almost simultaneously a string of curses in a Germanic tongue is uttered by Thul
After a moment, red emergency lights come on. Consoles flicker to life and run through startup tests, as do other systems all over the ship. Weight returns, as does the whisper of air from the vents. Slowly the Talisman's computers restore themselves to their state before being integrated into the larger ship-wide network.
As the ship returns to normal after the reboot, Nishu is hear to mutter a typically Vilani comment while he works to plot a corrected course to the landing site. His expression is one of grim amusement.
"So much for advanced technology."
Tweel flies a bout the bridge like a maniac screaming and calling back the systems online with frantic fury and by shear volume of voice, "CH-CH-CH-CH! The plant'ss Ssscramed!" With Moira's lights still flashing their warnings, Tweel flies through the emergency manual checklist as he prepares to re-light the fusion plant. By the time Moira is back on line, he can hit the emergency re-start button with out fear of the ship disintegrating. Throwing the throttle to full military, Tweel watches as the plants output climbs like a snail.
Unnoticed, tiny gobbets of red float in the air around him.
First, he nudges the environmental systems back on gently, recalling just how nasty zero-g is on shock victims. Gravity resumes at a full standard G in the cargo hold, .7G on the bridge.
The red spatters to the floor and begins to run.
Lacking time to plot the course himself, with great difficulty, Tweel manages to control his speach to where Moira can understand him, as he nearly swallows his tongue to put calmly and sweetly, "Moira dear, pleasse plot an intercept course for the Alcyon at besst possible sspeed."
Moira doesn't respond, but Tweel doesn't notice-- he's on to the next crisis. Tweel then turns to the engines. With love and screaming and threats and cajoling, he nurses the engines to their full rated output, and anything he can get beyond it. Slowly, the trust raises without a jolt, as he carefully makes certain that the inertial compensators won't hesitate with nasty consequences to the eggshell cargo in the hold. In his haste, he fails to note that the Aurora has ignored his corrections, and has resumed her old course toward the Hoop.
As the Aurora reaches her full potential, Tweel flaps to the commo station his training takes over and his voice remains calm. "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! Thiss iss the ISSs Aurrorra on 121.5, we have wounded aboarrd and arrre on an interrcept courrrse with the Alssseyon. Alssseyon, this is Aurrorra, sstand by to rrecieve medical emerrrgency. Doctorrr Van der Merrrwe will give detailsss."
"Attention, Rrring, thiss iss the ISSss Aurrorra on 1337.45, you have jussst ssent uss thrree patientss. We rrequessst inforrrmation on theirr injurrriess *IMMEDIATELY*. Alssso, we rrequessst that you possibly teleporrt, them, theirr sssurgeon and hiss equipment to the Alssseyon wherre betterr equipment iss available. *PLEASSE!!!!* Every pico-sssecond is the Grreat Hunterr's weapon!"
Tweel hit's the intercom, "Skipperrr! I sset you up a dirrect link frrrom yourr com-dot to 1337.45 I don't know if they'lll ansswerr, but if they do, don't wait forr me!"
*Oscar! Get down there and be of any assistance you can. If you aren't needed stay out of the way! GO!*
Tweel glares out the canopy of the Aurora at the stars. *KEY-HARRRRRR! Great Hunter! I swear you will not take them! I've beat you before and I'll beat you again! And when you come for me, I'll give you such a chase you will NEVER forget! KEY-HAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!*
The warbot flies down the corridor to the grav lift and disappears. Tweel suddenly finds himself with nothing to do but wait. The adrenalin in his system screams action while he has already done all he can do.
His talons shake with the desire to find something to DO.
Suddenly, he remembers...
The shaking stops and a rage sets in.
He grasps the commo panel with his talons which begin to shake again but not from inaction...
"KEY-HAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Which one of you *SSSTUPID Ch-ch-chimpsss isss C-c-count Gerrrrrrrr?!!! You SSSTUPID Grround-Brrained ssson of a herrrbovorrre!! What k-k-kind of Rrrattle-winged idea of yourrrs penetrrated yourr *tiny* grrround-brrained head, and t-t-told you t-t-to interrrupt *MY* Rrrresearch?! You empty headed farrrm animal! KEY-HAARRRRR!!"
*Attention, Rrring, thiss iss the ISSss Aurrorra on 1337.45, you have jussst ssent uss thrree patientss. We rrequessst inforrrmation on theirr injurrriess *IMMEDIATELY*. Alssso, we rrequessst that you possibly teleporrt, them, theirr sssurgeon and hiss equipment to the Alssseyon wherre betterr equipment iss available. *PLEASSE!!!!* Every pico-sssecond is the Grreat Hunterr's weapon!*
The Hoop considers the request for the barest fraction of a nanosecond. Odd, it thinks, that the healer is not always linked to the tools of healing. Yet another inefficiency. The prospects of this group are looking poorer every moment-- their chaotic motions, their violent reaction to change, their "suspicion"....
Still, lives saved are lives saved, and the request is a trivial one. The Hoop puts forth its will once more.
[ Tweel's holo-tirade reaches the Kingfisher. ]
"Mac, Acknowledge that signal, and see if we have a tanslation program for the dialect of galanglic that the Dr. is speaking. Oh and see if 'vouf is available to calm his charges down."
"Aye Sir." Witfield has a smile under his breath, as he proceeds to do as he was told. He runs a short speech through the onbaord speech synthesizer, and sends it out to the Aurora, then turns to analyze the squalling more carefully.
"Computer, scan for tranlation program, on galanglic dialects, and attempt to translate."
"Sir, Of Tweel's entire diatribe, only one word was not in Galanglic. He used it both at the beginning and the end of the tirade. The word was: KEY-HAAARRRRR!!!, or somthing to that effect." Witfield reports.
"And The ship's computer provides the following translation:"
Key-har: (KEE' harr) exp. 1. An announcement of impending arrival ("Here I come"). 2. Expression of discovery ("I see you"). 3. A challenge to pursuit ("Come get me"). 4. Warning ("Look out"). 5. Expression of strong affection ("I love you"). 6. Expression of surprise ("Wow!"). Expression of pleasure, approval, or triumph ("Yippee! Hooray!"). See also 'skreeee'.
Ger comments, "I know that Galangic is not my first language, but I think I'd know it if I heard it. Perhaps you can use a filter or something, What would it sound like if it was underwater?"
"Aye sir, Checking." Witfield attempt to apply various filters to Tweel's speech, attempting to get a clear result.
A computer simulated voice comes over the channel....
[Beep. Your message has been recieved by the command staff. Unfortunately there is no one to answer your call at the moment, If you would like, please hold and a communications officer will be with you momentarily...]
"KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA-KAA! So you won't even face me you c-c-cowarrrrd?!!! Key-HAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!! Then rrecorrd this: I challenge you C-c-count Gerrr, to Yelachak! Sstrrap on yourrr courrage and a grrav-belt! We meet in the sskiess of that rrring down therrre!"
Not expecting an immediate response from such an officious coward, Tweel then turns back to the task of restarting the Aurora. On automatic, sensors had managed to obtain lasercom locks on a few of the ships in the fleets. Tweel then turns his attention to the others.
Monitoring the descent of the Trakh, Akhouw quickly notices the unusual condition of the Turnskaad craft and muses out loud. "Kai! What is with these fiyfiyalr? Is proper engineering aoshi to them? Such is certainly possible without al yourhal." He meditates upon the situation for a brief uealaao. "Aiwi, passive scan all fiyfiyalr ships immediately. Follow with active scan within tea (eight) areiaao if they do not go back online. Keep alert for developments."
Caught momentarily by surprise, she automatically glances at the main holotank to grasp the situation. "Admiral, request permission to assist Aiwi with sensor analysis at my station!"
"Ka'tai, Officer Aorlkhea'. Your return to duty is noted. Proceed."
Without pausing, Aolrkhea''s naval training takes over and she throws herself into the vacant acceleration couch, pinching her tail in the seat as she does so. As she begins to efficiently reconfigure the station with her left hand, she adjusts her tail in the cushions and engages the seat restraints with her right hand. Activating her display, she begins to transfer repeaters from certain of Aiwi's and Uhwaikh's boards to her own. "Strange. I always thought that the fiyfiyalr knew how to keep their ships running...I hope that none of them are on a ballistic intercept course with the ringworld...."
Her hands are mirrored by dark reflections from her sweepingly curved holodyn instrument "panels" as they fly across it, preparing her station.
As systems start coming back on-line Shrike stabilizes the ship and begins running diagnostics checks to ensure that all piloting controls are fully functional.
Then he turns to Thul and asks, "Thul, what are our orders now? Do we follow the original path that was given us or do we sit?"
Thul glares at the console. "If you still have a fix on where Iasic wanted us to go, head for there. Then see if you can raise our leadership and find out what they have in mind next!"
Shrike begins to manuever the ship so it is back in position relative the to the Kingfisher. In unison, some eight million kilometers apart, both ships continue their cautious approach to the ringworld.
The main display at Abuko's console shows a close up view of R-alpha with color coded readings from all sensors superimposed. It focusses on an area that have a high densitometer reading, and finds a bulge representing a small body of water, just slightly larger than the total watermasses on an normal sized planet. A red square bearing the legend "Surface Bombardment Mode" frames the center of the bulge as the main picture is moved to one of the secondary displays, replaced by the normal scan view.
Finally, Johann speaks. "I have found what I believe is a stress-zone, passing on targeting data over the bus."
Etienne quickly lays out a course for the rendevous point and executes it. With eyes flicking from one half of his controls to the other he waits until the weapon systems indicate a passive lock on whatever target Johann picks...
"Cruise speed to rendevous, aye Sir!"
"Mr de Mer, when he has the passive lock, arm the secondary missile rack, and get an active lock on the target. No matter what, do not fire unless I give you explicit orders..."
"Passive lock achieved, commencing active targeting lock on...Aquired! Ready to fire on your command, Sir."
"Commander Ger, if I understand your intentions you wanted a demonstration. However, the target chosen by Mr. Abuko COULD cause damage to the ringworld."
The Commander settles back in his chair and says (to no one in particular), "Lets see if we have any control over our destiny...."
"Lose my ride?" Bhyarrvouf dusts himself off casually. "I think not. I don't rely on Iasic to get around. Still, it IS a bit distressing that he's somehow vanished on us. I wonder if someone's been interfering with him somehow?"
"Well, I wish you ladies luck in getting your Bridge cleaned up," he continues, straightening his uniform. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't sneaking up on us with guns at the ready. Now that I've done that--kae, I almost forgot!" He reaches into a pocket and hauls out a sheaf of papers and a pen. He hands the papers to Aurelia, as a glowing archway appears behind him in the hall. Ignoring it, he says mildly, "If Iasic were still in control of things, I'd tell you to sign those or I'd blow your heads off. But since he's not, I guess all I can do is ask politely that you sign them and fax them to the AURORA at your convenience. Thanks a lot, and I hope to see you on the Ring!"
He steps through the archway and vanishes. A moment later, the arch fades.
For the first time in his adult life, Adrian Bishop is at peace. This is a novel experience for him. But then, given his present state, *everything* is a novel experience for him.
As virtual realities go, it is quite pleasant. Bishop sits on the ground in the warm Autumn sun, his back to a huge oak, surrounded by it's fallen leaves. As time passes, a datapad materializes in his right hand, strictly as a concession to a normal man-machine interface. In truth, he no longer needs such a primitive tool, but it is pleasing to behave as though it were still necessary,
"Iasic, please give me access to the Alcyon ship library." Bishop says softly.
The datapad chirps, and the connection is established.
ALCYON LCARS - READY."
"Computer," requests Bishop, "show me Turnskaad personnel dossier - Bishop, Adrian Leland."
There is a brief pause.
"CONTEXT MAPPING COMPLETE. 'BISHOP, ADRIAN LELAND': NO SUCH FILE OR DIRECTORY. NUMBER OF LEXICAL PERMUTATION MATCHES AVAILABLE: ZERO."
"Hmmm." mutters Bishop. "Computer, show me crew postion and cabin assignment for Alcyon crew member 'Bishop, Adrian Leland'."
"BISHOP, ADRIAN L. - ALCYON R-ALPHA MISSION ARCHIVIST. ASSIGNED OCCUPANCY CREW COMPARTMENT 1-7."
"That's encouraging." comments Bishop to himself, "At least I really belonged on the ship." After another moments thought, Bishop continues, "Computer, list for me all R-Alpha related files and references for 'Bishop, Adrian Leland'."
"BISHOP, ADRIAN L -
12-00143 - CREW ROSTER
12-11471 - COMPARTMENT ASSIGNMENTS
12-22115 - CARGO MANIFEST
12-71784 - CREW DUTIES
12-00797 - CMO MEDICAL RECORDS
12-14159 - MISSION LOG
12-15222 - SHIP STORES CON..."
"Stop." orders Bishop. "Show me context one two dash zero zero seven nine seven, patient 'Bishop, Adrian Leland' only."
Medical data streams by. One human being reduced to a set of vital statistics and body chemistry.
BLOOD
COUNTS RBC PROTEIN ALB
RETIC GLOB
PLATES FIBRIN
WBC TOTAL
DIFF FRACTION
HEMATOCRIT
HEMOGLOBIN DIAGNOSTICS
INDICES MCV CHOLEST
MCHC CREAT
PROTIME GLUCOSE
PTT PBI
SED RATE BEI
I
CHEMISTRY IBC
NPN
BRO BUN
CA BILIRU, DIFF
CL CEPH/FLOC
MG THYMOL/TURB
PO4 BSP
K
NA URINE
CO2 SP GR
PH
ENZYMES PROT
AMYLASE GLUC
CHOLINESTERASE KETONE
LIPASE CATECHOLS
PHOSPHATASE, ACID PORPHYRINS
ALKALINE UROBIL
LDH 5-HIAA
SGOT
SGPT PULMONARY
TVC
STEROIDS TV
ALDO IC
L7-OH IRV
I7-KS ERV
ACTH MBC...
"Stop." Bishop frowns. "Skip forward."
"PATIENT WORK-UP INDICATES LONG TERM SUBSTANCE ABUSE. TRACE PHARMACEUTICAL AGENTS DETECTED AS FOLLOWS: ALERLENE, AMBOATHORPHIN, DECILAGE, DEMEROL, JIROLENE, LUMINAL,..."
"Stop. Skip forward."
"PATIENT HAS THE FOLLOWING CURRENT INNOCULATIONS: APF, ACCELERATED SYSTEMIC LUPUS..."
"Stop. Skip forward."
"PATIENT HAS UNDERGONE PROSTHETIC/BIONIC SURGERY AND IS AUGMENTED WITH THE FOLLOWING COMPONENTS: 10 CM. HIGH-PRESSURE CYLINDER..."
"Stop. Show me context one two dash one four one five nine, visual and audio, timestamp from mission launchpoint forward." Bishop commands. "Limit display to sections containing Bishop, or references to Bishop by other Alcyon crew members."
"READY."
"Run log, normal speed." directs Bishop.
An indeterminate amount of time passes. Eventually, Bishop puts down the datapad, which promptly dissolves. For a while, he simply stares into space, seeing nothing. Idly fingering a damp, rust-colored leaf, he slowly stands. Looking down at the leaf in his hand, turning it over, studying its detail, he speaks softly to himself, "Adrian Bishop wasn't a particularly pleasant individual. It's likely that he left no friends behind among the crew." Gently, Bishop stoops and places the leaf back on the ground. Standing again, he concludes, "Certainly, no one among them will have mourned his death." After a pause, he adds, "I wonder if anyone will be pleased at his return?" Bishop frowns. "Am I *really* still Adrian Bishop?" Unbidden, a childhood poem comes to mind:
A slight smile touches his face. "Well, perhaps I'll have the opportunity to improve on the original." Shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, Bishop turns from the oak and steps briskly towards the sparse forest of his memory.
"Perhaps."
Silently, it begins to snow.
When Ger orders the scan, Richard Jett looks interested. When Ger orders the sensor lock and arming of the secondary missile rack, Richard Jett's brows knit together in a concerned and puzzled frown. When Etienne and Johann speak up, Richard Jett is positively alarmed; he looks over at Ger as if to say 'what in the world?'
"Commander, our job is to *investigate* R-Alpha, not shoot it. I grant you that so far our arrival has not been uneventful, but I would point out that we are dealing with *highly* intelligent and technological *WORLD*. It would serve us ill to even indicate a readiness to use violent force, when the "Hoop" has indicated peaceful intentions, particularly in obtaining the depature of "IASIC", whose actions were more indicative of exploration and curiosity than malevolence. The "Hoop"'s offer to take over helm control should not seem so strange, if you realize that to its mind, we would be more likely to err, given its superior computing power and special knowledge. Without a clear threat, a more prudent course of action would seem to be preferable."
"Duly Noted Mr. Jett." is Ger's only reply.
In the background Zben has been setting up program after program on the Engineering console. Right after Jett's comment he finally breaks his silence...
"Sir! I must advise that I have not yet made absolutly certain that OUR computer is totally unaffected! An entity with the power to create the disruption we've observed might be able to infiltrate our systems in much more subtle ways as well..."
Ever since contact with the Aslans were broken off, Rigo has been using his screen to get as good a view of the ringworld as the passive sensors can give him, but at these words he looks up and stare at Ger, seemingly unable to believe his ears.
Lazer looks quizzically at Ger, an unspoken question on his lips. Then he asks, "Captain, permission to be brought up to date on events? The bits I overheard in the shuttle did not, to put it mildly, make much sense."
"Well Lazer, We were contacted by semi-hostile Aslans, someone using initiative projected a ghost fleet on the sensors. Then we had a major system failure on the Aurora, which indicated a possible attack. The ship was placed on alert, when we found that some sort of computer personality had invaded most of our ships and their systems, then the Ringworld sent us a communique inviting us down to the surface, with the suggestion that it/they do the flying, and that things would be really much better (for our own good) if they could take complete control of our ships. I asked them to leave, and I am now testing if they have in fact left. The Aslans seem to be proceeding to the surface, I don't even know if they are affected by any of this."
Turing to the sensor postion, Ger asks, "Johann, Can you tell what the native shuttle is doing, last I remember they were heading away at right angles to the confrontation"
After a short pause while he frantically searches through the contact lists for the elusive shuttle Johann answers. "It's been closing on the Westwind.... according to the backlog it made a 20g turn. It is hard to separate it from the Westwind now."
Almost as an afterthought, Ger remarks, "By the way, Lazer, you can re-pressurize the fighter when you get a free moment."
The news of another delerict ship crystalizes a vague nagging thought that has been plaguing Rigo since they first heard from the Westwind and the Gemini Arbiter.
"Commander! That could be another misjumped ship. If so, we now have three misjumped ships winding up here within a short time span. Even if it turns out to be a local vessel, there's still Westwind and Arbiter. What are the odds of two ships misjumping practically simultaneously? Well, within a radius of 36 parsecs from here there's a lot of ships jumping all the time, so perhaps. But that both should wind up here almost at the same time? The odds against it must be litterally astronomical! Unless..."
Rigo pauses and swallows. "Unless something is affecting the odds. Perhaps R-Alpha functions as a kind of jump-magnet. I don't say it is so, but I think it's a possibility. And if so, then Westwind, Arbiter and the unknown can't be the first ships to end up here. R-Alpha may be full of stranded spacefarers that would give their eye-teeth for a jump-tender like the Alcyon!"
Lazer stands, absorbing the events summary, his face inexpressive. He stares out the forward screen for a long moment, his eyes tracing the awesome curve of the ringworld. He appears to come to some decision.
"Commander, permission to speak in private?"
With a flash of light, the archway provided by the Hoop deposits Bhyarrvouf in the main corridor of the Aurora, a bare five minutes after he left. The first thing he registers is the smell of blood-- the air is thick with it! The second is the noise of a frenzied Ael crashing about the Bridge attempting to do several things at once. The third is the ship's gravity, which is slightly below what was on the Gemini Arbiter but is stabilizing rapidly.
"System crash," 'Vouf mutters in Vuakedh as he makes his way forward. He calls aloud, "Iasic? Goughzar? Can you hear me, little cousin? Christian? ANYONE? TSAKHA! SAMSHARKH KNAERVARGH--"
The door to the Bridge is stuck. Bhyarrvouf pops the manual release hatch panel, grabs the lever, and squeezes. "....RRrrrrRRRRRROUKH!!"
The metal bar deforms and crumples under his grip, and the door pops loose with a clang. 'Vouf darts onto the Bridge, stumbles under the sudden shift to 0.7G, slips and slides into the back of the couch on which Tweel is perched, trying to calm himself down. Something drips on his muzzle as he tries to right himself, and he wipes it off, looking at it in perplexity.
It's blood.
Suddenly 'Vouf looks at his palms and legs and at the skidmarks on the deck. All are bright crimson. His eyes widen as he looks at Tweel, and then he reaches forward to the angered scientist gently.
"O, Hunter-Above, what've you DONE? Don't try to move! You've ripped out all of your SUTURES!"
He hits the intercom switch. "Christian, where ARE you?! It's 'Vouf-- I'm back on the Bridge! Tweel's traumatized himself badly-- where's Iasic? WHAT'S GOING *ON*?!"
Ger looks up from his private data console at Lazer's request.
"Uh, I'm a bit busy at the moment. Just let me issue a couple of orders here. It is difficult to leave the bridge for a private discussion, on a moments notice."
During this exchange Zben is still setting up simulations and knocking them down, without looking at anyone else. If anyone looks over his shoulder they'd notice one odd item. In the lower right corner of the holoconsole is a green outlined box labeled "Weapon Systems Power Grid". It's just sitting there....
Ger then turns to his keyboard [how quaint - but he is fairly old], and types for many seconds. The display on the fire control board filckers and then goes from the unusual message (In Red):
"Missile 2: Locked, armed, loaded, awaiting final security check"
to the more familiar (Brighter Red):
"Missile 2: Locked, armed, loaded, ready."
Tweel turns to glare at 'Vouf and then recognizes his condition. He stares at the mass of blood on the couch and freezes. It takes him a few moments to bring his breathing under control. He turns to 'Vouf as with a sudden calmness over him, but his voice is clipped and tinged with desparation.
"Trriple thrree, come to the brridge immediately, brring a medical kit."
"Chrristian is in the hold tending to thrree trauma cassess. Te-teleporrted herre by the Rrring. He'ss too bussy to answerr now..."
"Wonderful!" 'Vouf runs a hand down the main status board. "What the kakh knaerrvargh happened to Iasic?" He punches through a few sets of screen menus, one eye on the lagging Ael as 333 arrives and sets to work.
Tweel pauses for breath, "We'rre heading for the Alsseyon. Need medical equipment... You'rre the pilot now..."
"I always was, Hunter-Above," 'Vouf says quietly. "You're too woozy to notice, but we HAVEN'T changed course." He frowns. "That means the security interlocks prevented you from altering the old helm settings, which would be IMPOSSIBLE unless--"
Trriple thrree arrives on the bridge with Tiger perched on his head. The robot begins to examine the scientist using its recently pirated software copied from Lucan.
"'Vouf... Gerr orrderred IASsIC to leave... Ssysstem crrrrashed... That ground-brained, lead frrom behind, morrronic, sson of a herbivorre..."
"He WHAT?" Vouf's eyes go wide, then narrow thoughtfully. For a long moment, he looks out through the viewport at the sky. When he speaks again, his voice is a steely whisper. "Of course he did. Stupid kakh wolf, hop-skipping all over Yaskoydray's Krafla when there's WORK to be done...."
Tweel swallows, and his voice weaker. A three fingered talon reaches out shakily to 'Vouf. Ael eyes search Vargr, "'Vouf... If I die... Swearr... We... arre both hunterrrs.... Swearr... Kill him... Kill Gerr... SWEARRRR!"
Bhyarrvouf folds his arms and regards the Ael impassively.
He quietly says, "Unit 333, recognize subsidiary authority Bhyarrvouf. Doctor Trrrweeerrrrrlll has suffered severe re-traumatization of initial injuries and must be confined from strenuous movement until he has stabilized. Assign unit OSF-4 to guard him at all times during his recovery and to prevent any further injuries to the Doctor.
Tweel simply stares at him. His acceleration eyelids close over briefly.
Triple Three continues working, and voices "Subsidiary authority Bhyarrvouf not recognised. No authority is given to any phonetic variant of Bhyarrvouf."
Tweel continues glaring at Vouf. He whispers to Triple Three "Fly ahead." Triple three readies an osmotic pressure injector.
'Vouf nods reassuringly at the Ael, but he doesn't smile.
"Anaesthetize him."
Tweel steps off the back of the chair so his talons will not lock on it in unconciousness. The drugs cross the skin barrier into the blood.
Tweel's eyes glaze over for a second then return to stare 'Vouf in the eye, "Hunterr... don't... let die... in my... sssleep."
Tweel' inner eyelids close, then the outer. Triple three catches him as he slumps.
Ger finishes typing and looks up from his console.
Ger mummurs, "This won't cause any amount of damage to the world..."
Turning back towards the bridge crew, he says, "Helm, This is a direct order, on my authority, Fire the missile... now."
With a barely breathed "Aye, sir." Etienne's hand moves to the control. He pauses for a fraction of a second, when...
"Don't fire, Mr. de Mer." Lazer's voice is clear and hard. He is standing at the rear of the bridge, his back to the wall. A laser pistol has appeared in his hand, and it is aimed unwavering at Etienne's shoulder.
Bhyarrvouf lets out his breath in a gusty sigh as the Ael FINALLY goes under. "Carry him to the Cargo Hold," he orders the robot. "Doctor van der Merwe is performing triage there. Move him to Sickbay ONLY after the Doctor pronounces him stabilized."
OSF-4 extends all ten of his tentacles to support the limp scientist without jarring him and carries him down to sickbay in the hold.
Bhyarrvouf plops into the helm chair, ignoring the blood. He rubs his temples, leaving red marks on the white fur. "You back among the living, Moira?"
*I am online and running under normal operating routines,* the computer's luscious voice responds. *However, all diagnostics have reported an increase of over 80% in processing and swap speeds. My internal timebase seems unaffected, and I am unable to explain the increase. There is also a gap of eight minutes in my cognitive log for which I cannot account. The presence of an adult male Ael Yael on the Bridge, an Aeloid subsentient, an OSF-4 unit of unknown authorization, and a customized cybernetic entity of--*
"That's enough. Shut up." Bhyarrvouf sighs again. "They're not to be molested under beta or gamma parameters of shipboard activity."
*Why is Lucan's brain lying on the deck?*
"Kae, SHUT UP I SAID!" 'Vouf snarls. He lifts himself out of the chair with a groan and yanks the medbot's brain from its jury-rigged connections, reinstalling it in Lucan's body with a click. Lucan whirs to life, and 'Vouf gently turns it around and gives it a push out the door. "Cargo Hold. Medical emergency. Go." Lucan shoots away.
Bhyarrvouf gets back into the chair. He flips on the intercom. "Moira's up and running, but it seems like whatever Iasic did to soup her up got left behind when he went. All okay down there, aenrra?"
Etienne stops, then SLOWLY pulls his hand back.
"What are you doing? Farouk, PUT the gun down." Witfield says. "This is mutiny!!"
Richard looks at Witfield. "Mutiny, sir? This is not a military expedition. Mister Farouk is merely pointing out that Commander Ger has made a most extraordinary command that has potential effects of immense proportions. Is it asking too much for him to explain himself?"
He looks back to Ger. "If this be mutiny, sir, then make the most of it."
"Mr. Witfield," orders Lazer, "please begin trying to raise the XO."
Witfield looks toward Etienne, "Sir?"
Etienne hesitates a long moment then gives a short nod. "Aye, Mr. Witfield, contact Subcommander Bhyarvouf," then in a lower voice "though it seems there's little he could do, one way or the other."
An edge appears in Jett's voice. "Mister Witfield, I suggest that it would be prudent to raise the Subcommander. Do it *now*."
Witfield remains unmoved, waiting for Ger's reply.
"I am sorry, Commander," says Lazer. "You are attempting to destroy a ringword for a demonstration...of what? It is a criminal order, and you will have to have me subdued before it will be carried out."
As Jan listens to the drama unfolding on the bridge, he secures the hood of his vacc suit and pressurizes it. He quickly unholsters his gauss pistol and moves towards the bridge, utilizing available cover. On the way, he hails Farouk over the ICS.
"Mr. Farouk, I concur with your judgement that the Commander has issued an illegal order. As senior medical officer aboard I question the fitness of Admiral Ger to command. We are not in engaged in combat, and the only threat applied to us has been removed. Admiral, I suggest you step back and consider your position."
As Jan steps on to the bridge, he moves to cover Lazer's back and lets Jett do the talking.
Richard Jett has slowly walked towards the front of the bridge, having stopped just behind Zben. He glances down at Zben's panel configuration, briefly, then turns back to face Ger and Lazer without a word, but gives Zben a small, encouraging pat on the shoulder.
When Ger brusquely dismissed his concerns, Richard remained quiet, but his countenance became more grave. The order to fire is somewhat a shock, but Lazer's unconventional reaction snaps Richard back to the crisis.
He chooses to speak just after Lazer has finished, when the impact of Lazer's actions has registered fully with the shuttle crew.
His voice is firm and controlled, with a steely resolve lurking in the background.
He first looks at Lazer. "Mister Farouk. You are, in essence, correct, if perhaps overly dramatic." An extremely tiny laugh. "...but perhaps this is the season for that." His utterly serious visage turns to consider Ger. "You, sir, have come to a reckoning of sorts. You may have a plan, you may have the most beneficial of motives, or you may not. This is not a military expedition. This is a scientific expedition funded by and for Turnskaad Industries, presumably conforming to the appropriate laws. Your actions, on their face, seem to conflict with your duty to Turnskaad. Mister Farouk correctly notes that your action could be criminal. How are we to know differently? Now, sir, an explanation is long overdue. Explain *now*."
"Recognize the appearance of danger, Commander. None here are robots, none pledged to unwavering obedience. Make your decision, Count. If we err, show this to us. This is a matter of such import that none can take lightly." Jett is standing perfectly straight, looking Ger square in the eye, wavering not in the least. His deadly serious tone indicates that he is not speaking lightly.
The Bridge is silent, awaiting Ger's word....
END OF TURN 92.01
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