The TML PBeM

1992, Turn 3 - Part 1 (of 11)

The Universe is a sphere precisely 1.069604911 kilometers in radius. The Alcyon is adrift at its exact center, with the other ships huddled about it closely. There is enough room to maneuver to dock points with minimal risk of touching the walls.

Passive scans reveal the usual signatures of the various ships, plus a broadband noise background that gradually (and VERY slowly) appears to be rising in intensity and average energy... if in fact an "average" energy means anything, as it appears to cover the spectrum from ULF to gamma radiation. The size of the sphere is determinable with the use of echolocation of each ship's own passive IR output by its own sensors; it appears to have an odd combination of absorptive and reflective properties.

All computer-guided craft are currently not under thrust; the autopilots will not allow maneuver if their astronav guidance systems are suddenly unable to fix on the stars they need for orientation. The only craft that was under direct manual control at the moment of shift was the Talisman, whose drives were taken offline by Shrike.

The ships without grids (the Kingfisher, Khaurl, and the piece of wreckage) appear to be suffering no ill effects. No one feels Jump-sick yet either.

"......."

"Nicholas, are you all right?"

"I'm... ... just... ..."

"Do you require medical assistance?"

"No, I... ..."

"Did the sudden transition through the portal cause you some sort of physiological distress?"

"No, it's... ..."

"You really don't sound well. Are you sure you are all right?"

"Yes, I'm... ... fine. I just... ... SWALLOWED MY GUM. Now... ... where the heck are we?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, Nicholas. This is not a phenomenon I have any familiarity with. I am currently running full scans with all passive sensors. I do hope we will have the opportunity to tell Dr. Bell about this. I'm sure he would be absolutely enthralled."

"Yeah. Now... ... let's see... Hmmm... it's all gray out there. We're in Grayspace! Yes, that's it -- Grayspace!"

"Pardon my skepticism, Nicholas, but I think perhaps you are just making that up."

"If you have a better name for it I'm... ... all ears. What do the sensors show?"

Ger is seated in the command station aboard the Alcyon, he seems cheerier in the last few seconds than for quite a while.

"Yet another problem suddenly disappears for a little while."

Ger takes the Hud from his belt, and carefully places it on his head.

...and he realizes that the psionic shield helmet he was wearing a few seconds ago, that he ALWAYS has on him, is now no longer nestled snugly at the base of his neck where it's supposed to be. It was definitely there from the moment he got up that morning to the moment things went nuts over at the Kingfisher; now, though, it's gone. Fortunately there are spares on the Bridge within easy access, and he can grab one and don it with no trouble.

After taking a few seconds to replace the psi shield and initialize the HUD, Ger jabs the plug into the control panel. A few more seconds pass as he looks at what little information the sensors display, and then he starts broadcasting to all the ships.

"All Turnskaad ships, This is commander Ger. Until further investigation proves otherwise I think that it is best for all ships to dock with the Alcyon, keep all drives in idle in case we need them in a hurry. Talisman, see if you can secure that wreck with a line before you dock. I want to see all section heads for a meeting as soon as medical is free. All ships please check all your crew members and report any missing personnel ASAP. 'Vouf I want you to report immediately. Ger out."

Bhyarrvouf looks out the viewport at the endless expanse of grey nothing. His ears fold back flat against his skull and his tail tucks between his legs. He mutters to himself in Vuakedh for a moment or two as he stares at the unbelievable sight outside. Then, with a vigorous shake that starts at his nose and works its way all the way down his body to the tip of his tail, he pulls himself together.

Forcing his eyes away from the view, he looks around him, trying briefly to make eye contact with everyone present.

"Is every--" His voice cracks on a high squeak, and he clears his throat angrily. "Bha-HRM!....is everyone all right?"

"Aye, sir," Etienne softly responds, without turning around.

Zben continues to stare at the featureless gray horizon. In a soft voice, basically to himself though others can hear him, "I feel like a rabbit that's just been pulled INTO a hat."

He shakes a bit then addresses Bhyarrvouf. "Sir! Permission to scan surroundings and see what we can see?"

"Yorblin, OK, proceeding to station." Jan quickly scans the bridge. If any injured personnel are seen, he'll treat accordingly, elsewise... Wait a minute...

"Sir, Judge Jett no longer seems to be with us. Did you teleport him out of this situation?"

"No...." Vouf looks at the empty chair.

"Tightbeam lasercom from the Alcyon, sir," Mac says....

<< All Turnskaad ships, This is commander Ger. Until further investigation proves otherwise I think that it is best for all ships to dock with the Alcyon, keep all drives in idle in case we need them in a hurry. Talisman, see if you can secure that wrek with a line before you dock. I want to see all section heads for a meeting as soon as medical is free. All ships please check all your crew members and report any missing personnel ASAP. 'Vouf I want you to report immediately. Ger out. >>

"Open a channel, Mister Witfield," Vouf says coolly. "Lasercom to Alcyon."

"Aye Sir." Mac opens the laser com chanel to Alcyon. "This is the Commanding Shuttle. Come in Alcyon."

"Channel open, sir." He reports.

"Keyaho, Alcyon, this is Command Shuttle, Bhyarrvouf. We are adrift off the Alcyon's starboard flank. Now maneuvering to enter main hangar bay."

In a sotto voce aside to de Mer: "See voo play, Etienne...."

Etienne just nods. With a final glance at his disabled gravitic controls, he sends them back into the void and replaces them with a commo-panel. He selects one of the masers and aims it at one of the Alcyon's antenna's. "Pater, this is Etienne at the helm of the Kingfisher, would you please open the Shuttle bay door and prepare the bay for docking?" After a moment... "With ALL safety procedures!" For some reason, Etienne's accent, normally quite small despite recurrent jibes, is more obvious now than at most times.

Then, "The only person missing from the Shuttle appears to be Judge Jett. No sign of him on board. I'll report to you ASAP upon docking and debarkation in main hangar bay. The situation on the shuttle is normalized, sir; the parties involved have relenquished control of the Command Shuttle to me, and are awaiting my orders. Kingfisher out."

He turns to the others. "And speaking of awaiting my orders...."

Slowly, Simon Levy's small world returns to view. And small it is.

"Hmm. Let's see if we can get (ouch) one of the radios to (ouch) work. Damn designers. Bet they just thought of space and mass, never of actually haivng to USE one of these contraptions. Enough to induce claustrophobia - or agoraphobia. Here is this 3m long coffin, tumbling endlessly in wide-open space.

Sheeittt. For all I know I'm about to be swallowed up by those merciless head-hunters and sold to some four-armed bimbo from a chirper world for her personal entertainment. If... I... can.. just... (Finally breaking an arm free and getting to the comm panel)... uh oh. Which one is the ON switch?"

So, toggling all the switches, then faster, and finally in frustration beating his fists against the console in frustration, Simon realizes that it just don't work. A few tears bead up around the corners of his eyes.

The vargr in the naval uniform lay quietly beside him looking calmly asleep. Unnoticed, Kara's ears flick over to the source of the noise. A tired look of annoyance crosses her face.

"I'm gonna die. Alone. In space. And *ABSOLUTELY* no one is going to know where I went. I don't even know if I left any genes for posterity. What a waste my life has been, selling to the highest bidder regardless of consequenses, always making it a game to stay just ahead of the competition, the law.

"It's over now. Maybe if I hold my breath 'till I pass out? Nope that won't do it. Yer just gonna have to live with it. (ha ha)"

Simon jumps slightly as a paw grasps his shoulder gently but Firmly and pulls him back into his couch to lie quiet.

She turns her head slowly and catches Simon's teary eyes in her golden ones. Her Galanglic is accented, but quite good The gentle tone of command penetrates Simon's panic. "Calm down crewman. We AREN'T going to die. The ELT in these pods is auto-triggered on eject. They'll fiiiind us."

Simon looks her over. She's a passenger he hadn't spoken with much before, a tall graceful vargr, wearing a Vargr naval uniform and cap with enough scrambled eggs on her cap to be an Imperial Sector Admiral. He can't see the rest of her, but his eyes are able to focus on the necklace she's wearing: it's adorned with two Gauss needles, both bent and deformed as if retrieved from where they'd struck flesh....

"Now lie quiet, and conserve oooxygen."

Simon shuts his eyes.

She pats his shoulder reassuringly and then returns to her quiet meditaition, silently wondering if she can believe her own little morale booster.

As Simon slowly sinks to unconciousness, Kara reaches tiredly around to her back. The PLSS is almost exhausted, but contains a few minutes of oxygen.

Sadly she looks at Simon gasping the last of their air. Where's his helmet?.... No helmet.

With a sigh, she slowly opens the stopcock on the air bottle. It hisses hatefully as it dumps the last of its fresh contents into the stale murk of the pod.

She flops back down on her couch exhausted. The pod slowly fills with a new stench, as Simon's failing nervous system releases control of his bladder. Kara doesn't even notice the smell as she slips into a choking black pit of silence.

Akhouw blinks several times in rapid succession as he tries to comprehend the latest, and strangest, of recent events. He stares at the flat grey haze for several seconds, then his sense of duty reasserts itself and reminds him that he cannot spare himself the luxury of meditation just yet, while there were matters of command to attend to. Figuring out exactly where they were was a matter for the female scientists to contemplate.

He shifts his gaze from the external viewport to an adjacent holomonitor and locks in the speeder bay securecam. Indeed, there was the speeder and both of its occupants seemed no worse for the experience. A slight shift of his right hand activates the intercom.

"Permission granted, Hfolraw. You may come to the bridge and give your report. Scientist Hryawi, we have a most unusual situation in the immediate area of space, a condition which is not unlike jumpspace despite the fact that we have not energized our grid. Begin a detailed study of this phenomenon at once and report your findings when practicable." Akhouw gives a sidelong glance at Aolrkhea'. "Keep an eye on Hryawi's progress."

Aolrkhea' continues for a brief while to stare at her viewer although the images of destruction are no longer visible there. Almost imperceptibly, she seems to alter her position. Then suddenly, with a harsh, shaken exhalation, she stops straining against her restraints and collapses back into her acceleration couch. She takes several deep breaths in an attempt to return her inner self to some semblance of balance.

Until _Khaurl_ can tell her more about the condition and species of the lifepod occupants, there is little more that Aolrkhea' can do to prepare Sickbay beyond what is already done. *I hope whoever is on that thing isn't too badly hurt or something exotic like an Ael or a Jgdi, there's been enough trouble today.* She settles down to patiently await more information from Eihoftyah.

"Understood, Admiral." Aolrkhea' touches her panel. "Hryawi, Aolrkhea'. I'll try to coordinate the science station interfaces to sensory until we get some more information from _Khaurl_ about the lifepod casualties. I will also require a debriefing report on your contact mission once the immediate crisis is past. But for now, what sensors will you need...."

Upon recovering from her shock of being being teleported across the planitary distances, Hryawi acknowledges her latest assignment. She quickly climbs out of the speeder and moves to the ships science station.

"Aiwi, Aolrkhea', Hryawi. Am on station. All passive sensors on line; I am avoiding active scans for the moment."

"Acknowledged, Hryawi. Copy appropriate non-critical incoming data to my station; critical data and hypotheses to both mine and the Admiral's. Aiwi out."

Hryawi quickly settles down and starts pulling up data about jump space, normal space and all data available about missjumps. Once that processes is off and running, she start having sensors examine the current space for comparison. When the data begins solidifying, she starts running down differences and similarities.

After a few moments, she realizes she missed all known data about space near and enclosed by black globes and brings that data up for additional comparison.

Once all that is in progress she turns additional sensors on the Trakh's jump grid and on all the other ships jump grids.

Akhouw returns his focused attention to the main holotank as he manipulates the controls to get a close, high-resolution depiction of the current ship locations within the anomaly. Small blurbs of trokh fade into existence, measuring distances, angles, and so on. Gazing upon the Alcyon, Akhouw leans toward the holo, his right hand tracing an outline, stabbing forwards as the attachment points are noted. He passes a hand through his mane, and gives it a sharp shake as he turns towards Aiwi... and then stops as a small symbol and data blurb catch his eye. Akhouw flicks his tail to one side as he reads.

He leans over to Aiwi. "Signal the Khaurl by masercom to return to the Trakh, after securing the possible lifepod, with all due speed. Any injured sophonts aboard it might need treatment." He glances at Aolrkhea'. "Stand ready for them." Akhouw relaxes back into his command chair. "Then, Aiwi, signal the shuttle Kingfisher by lasercomm. I want to speak to Admiral Nanadth. Also inform them that we intend to secure the lifepod."

Slide Wrinkley has just wet himself.

Aaron haut-Frieder isn't in much better shape.

Slowly, both men creep forward toward the impossible tableau before them. Gingerly, Slide reaches out a hand and touches the piece of wall. The pipes are still wet, the steam condensing on the deck....

Aaron carefully toes the gun out of the unconscious man's grip, and kicks it away. He then gently turns the body over onto its back, and examines it carefully. "Greyson," he says.

"Wh..who?" Slide stammers.

"Greyson," Aaron responds, pointing to the name tag on the uniform. "Must be this guy's name." He lifts up one eyelid. "Out cold. Must be in shock."

"HE'S in shock?!" Slide giggles hysterically. "I'M the one who's in SHOCK--"

Aaron looks over at Slide, his mustache twitching. Without preamble, he gently reaches out and grabs the front of Wrinkley's shirt and begins to shake him back and forth like a terrier shakes a rat. Ten or twelve shakes, and Wrinkely gasps, "Okay okay OKAY!"

Aaron lets him go. "Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks." Slide runs a hand through his thinning hair. He frowns at the man before him and says, "What the hell kind of uniform is that?"

"The color and insignia are Imperial Navy," Aaron frowns. "And the shoulder pips and body armor look like standard NavInt issue. But the cut of the uniform's all wrong...."

"Yeah! Yeah, THAT'S what's so weird!" Slide nods furiously. "It's like a suit of ANTIQUE clothes, like they wore, oh, back in the last--"

His voice trails off. "....century...."

Aaron scoops the man up with a limp arm held over his shoulder. "Tell the Bridge what happened," he says. "I'll take him to Sickbay."

Slide watches him leave with his burden, then staggers over to the intercom. "Bridge? Doctor Vandermerwhee? This is, uh, this is Slide Wrinkely in the J-Drive area. Aaron's, uh, Aaron's uh, taking someone to Sickbay. He's a, uhm, he, uh, he just, ah, um... like... he just APPEARED out of like THIN AIR, you know? With a big chunk of hallway from somewhere....Kinda."

After finishing the transmission, Ger turns on all the external video sensors, and waits for any reports or messages. Totally unaware that engineering has any problems, he is simply waiting to be notified by Christian that the thrusters are on line. Then Slide's report comes in....

"Hello Mr. Wrinkely, This is Admiral Ger. Exactly who is this somebody? Mr. Jett perhaps? Hallway, you say, well is it a ship hallway or something from the ring. Why don't you record a report on all the info and check into the status with medical for me, I don't want to disturb the Doctor. Ger out."

Ger then turns on the cameras in the cargo hold and puts them on the main dispay (assuming they still work). Concluding that it is not a ship chunk, and seeing the gun on the deck, Ger again goes for the intercom.

"This is the commander, Security to the Cargo hold, secure the area and report on possible intruders. Ger out."

"Security to Bridge," Mahlel reports in."Am I to assume, C'mander, that you are overriding my current orders ta remain confined ta quarters, as issued by tha' previously rankin' off'cer aboard?"

"No I am giving you orders which superceed those given to you by the previous officer. You'll just have to wait to be confined to quarters util you finish what I have instructed."

"Aye, sir. On my way."

"Why exactly were you confined to quarters? [unseen by Wrinkely, Ger shakes his head in fustration] Tell me sometime later. Just don't shoot anything unless it fires first, and then only to disable"

"I wuz c'nfined ta quaters 'cuz I helped the Doc save somebody's life and he got sore at me 'cuz I'm a better field surgeon than he is. Mahlel out."

'Vouf turns to Blaine and nods. "Please proceed at once, Mister Blaine. Doctor Abuko and Doctor Silvmane shall assist. Mister Witfield, hit the other ships and make sure they know where to dock; assign them to low- and medium-stress dock points. When you've gotten all the friendlies, try to raise the Aslan. Oh, and Mac, tightbeam lasercom only. I have a bad feeling about using broadcast media in here...."

"Roger." Mac's hand goes to work. He started punching the comm panel as fast as he can. Using tightbeam laser comm transmission, he contacted each ship on our side, one by one. "Attention, this is the commanding shuttle. You are instructed to dock in Alcyon. Here are your docking points, and flight data." He starts transmitting docking instructions.

"Mister Edmondsen, please secure all active sensors under security lock. I don't want to make any noise in here...yet. Then go aft and supervise Mister Severin's repair of the turret. Doctor Yorblin...."

'Vouf sighs, and suddenly, just for a moment, seems very old.

"Do you have a topical anaesthetic? My nose hurts."

The sudden shift in sensor readings throws Morser for a loop; it takes a few moments for him to re-orient himself once everything stabilizes. Staring at the outputs, he kind of goes slack-jawed for a few minutes...gazing out into something decades of research and experimentation tell him shouldn't be possible....Is it a jump field? Nein...it cannot be...ze other ships could not be here wizout grids...An eggggstrrapolation of ze balck globe generators? Nein, not zat either...Could it be...a...POCKET UNIVERSE?!?!? Unglaublich! Unmoglich! Could zis be ze refuge of ze Ancients!?! Mein Gott!!

While all this is running through his head, Morser's body just sits there limp...

Aurelia is busy piloting the ship. Nichole is busy monitoring ship systems particularly engineering.

> A huge glowing disk appears in the path of the ship.

Before Aurelia has time to react the ship passes through. She does manage a little squeak though, causing Nikki to glance up.

> Then the stars all vanish, leaving only a featureless gray sky.

The next several seconds produces a flurry of activity which would astonish any onlooker especially since the sisters seem to know exactly what the other is doing.

"...aiyeeee!" echoes across the bridge.

"Navigational reference failure. System shutdown." announces the ships computer.

"Now wha....!" exclaims Aurelia punching buttons, "Arby! Nav systems check. Include sensors."

"Engine shutdown. Powerplant output reduced." states Nikki who then calls forth several holo displays of information.

"Systems check normal. Unable to acquire navigational reference points." responds the computer.

"How's the rest of the ships' systems, Nikki?" asks Aurelia.

"Everything seems okay. Whatever happened caused either system shutdown or suspension." replies Nikki.

"Didn't RW send a message? I seem to remember something just before we ended up here." looking around "Where ever here is." quips Nikki.

Punching buttons to replay the last few moments. "Here it is." states Aurelia.

"I apologize for the interference. . ."

"What the hell's he mean farewell! This doesn't look good, Aury!"

And so the Kingfisher bridge returns to normal, whatever that means, Lazer thinks to himself. 'Vouf is giving orders; Abuko and Blaine are going nuts on sensors; de Mer is taking the shuttle into the dock. All pistols have been returned to their holsters, except Lazer's. That still lies on the deck, where he kicked it.

The Solomani threat seems to have disappeared, so Lazer removes his helmet.

Ger is no longer threatening the ringworld--whatever possessed him to arm the secondary rack? The Solomani shared that insanity, but on an altogether grander scale. They're likely defeated now. I wonder how much mercy the Ring will show? Curious how calmly I can consider that.

It's sad, how good a prophet Bishop turned out to be. Everything we touch is battered, crumpling like tinfoil underfoot.

So is that news, Farouk? It's the law of nature, everywhere and always. Entropy never rests, so it's no bloody good feeling sorry for yourself.

The despair that washed through him when the fires bloomed along the great arc of the ring seems to have cleansed him of the whirling carousel of emotions of the past day, and left a pensive calm.

Zben turns to Mac, "If you have any trouble, I speak a little Aslan."

"Thanks, I'm hoping they are actually going to be polite about this, and actually speak Anglic to us." Witfield smiles. "After all, they are probably trapped here just as we are."

"Aye, but trapped in `who-knows-where' with a ship full of Aslans wasn't covered in MY briefing..." Zben turns to look at `Vouf and Johann. "Of course, I don't think Any of this was..."

"True, oh well, look on the bright side, we are all still alive and breathing."

Jan moves over to the command chair and looks at 'Vouf's slightly abraded nose. "Hmm, let me exam that really quickly." Bones grossly intact, a little swelling, this guy must be getting worn down. Who wouldn't with either a commander whose gone nutso, or a bunch of ex-military types who've gone off the deep end themselves.

"Nothing broke, no foul, let's go ahead and numb it." Jan grabs a small tube out of his trauma vest. Undoing the cap, he squirts a bit of amber goo onto 'Vouf's nose. The goo is absorbed quickly.

"That should numb it, no guarantee if it will mess with your sense of smell or not. It doesn't effect humans, but in any case, it will wear off in 45 minutes to an hour. I'll fix you up with something more long lasting, if it's still there then, OK?"

"Snrf. Snrk. Snff?" 'Vouf makes nose-twitching motions for a moment. Then, very slowly, he squeezes his eyes tightly shut and raises his nose until it points toward the ceiling....

"*SSSHHHWWUMMPPHHH!!!*"

With an abrupt downward motion of his head, 'Vouf sneezes violently. He wipes teary eyes and gasps, "Uh, yeah, THAT did the trick. Thanks."

As Abuko and Silvmane set up the passive scan, Zben sets up a diagnostic check-out of Engineering. As it gets underway, he moves over toward `Vouf, and asks in a quiet voice "Sir? What happens now? I assume there's going to be the devil to pay..." with a glance outside "...and it seems we may been sent to the right spot."

'Vouf favors Zben with a sidelong, ice-blue glance. Blaine hasn't seen him look this ragged since they dragged his bleeding body from underneath Leadfoot. "All in good time, Zben," he whispers. "Let's try to get ourselves all together before we start worrying about the small tsakha. Okay?"

One gauntlet, able to crush steel easily, gives Zben's shoulder a gentle pat, and with a wink 'Vouf is on to his next crisis....

At his console Rigo calls up the security menu, studies it for a few moments, then pauses, a brief look of annoyance passing over his face. He then quickly enters a series of orders before turning back towards the command chair:

"Mr. Bhyarrvouf, I've checked that all active sensors are off, but you forget that I'm neither command nor security. The locks I've set up can be disengaged by anyone. Best I can do is to set up an alarm if that happens. Do you want that alarm to go to you too? Or do you want to lock the sensors yourself?"

"No, an alarm will do fine. Thanks, Rigo." 'Vouf is staring at the seat where Jett had been. He looks bone-weary all of a sudden.

With the sensors taken care of, Rigo rises from his chair and and goes aft. As he leaves the cabin he points to his translator, which he has left by his console: "Oh, by the way, the translator is fitted for translating the Aslan lingo, in case anyone needs it. And if you have a moment, sir, could I speak to you?" He then goes to the engineering room to watch Severin fix the turret.

"Sure, be right there," 'Vouf says.

"Sir, am I to consider myself under arrest?"

Bhyarrvouf favors Lazer with a look rather reminiscent of the one his third-grade teacher gave him when he asked that a math problem be explained more than once. "NO, Mister Farouk," 'Vouf sighs. "NOBODY is under arrest. And nobody WILL be, until I get this mess straightened out and figure out WHO ought to be arrested... and who ought to be given commendations. At the moment, a coin toss looks good."

"You want the coin now? OR perhaps we should try poker?" Witfield says, trying to relieve the tension.

"What's 'poker'?" Vouf wonders.

"Poker, a very popular card game. Its popularity started around the 20th century Earth, and it's still popular among the card players today." Witfield exaplins. "Or, we can always just draw straws." :)

"Draw...." Mac can see the gears clicking. "What does drawing pictures of STRAWS have to-- never mind. Just never mind."

A sort of choked laugh comes from Lazer, and he appears to be smiling against his will. "In that case, sir, permission to withdraw. I need a drink to celebrate my half-commendation." He gives up on resisting the smile, and adds, "You look like you could use one yourself."

"Vouf," Mac says, "One of these days I'll have to teach you all about silly games human play. You'll get a good laugh out of how silly we are."

"Mac, I grew UP around humans. I am fully aware of how silly they can get. And if Bishop were here," he pauses for a moment, "I'd make a crack about what an improvement we were over the original design. But as it is, I'll refrain, since I don't believe that any more than HE did."

Mac looks at Lazer. "Uh, drinking at a time like this? Hey, maybe we can invite the Aslan to a drinking party? That should be quite a ice breaker." He smirks.

"What, the LAST party wasn't enough for you?" 'Vouf snarls.

"It was for me," Zben groans. "I don't think I've fully recovered from it yet!"

"It was fun, but the Aslans weren't there." He smiles. "I heard Aslan do the wildest things when they party."

On that note Zben turns to the Engineering console and runs through the docking checklist, making sure there will be no surprises upon contact. He pulls one of the forward views into a corner of his screen, the better to coordinate with the pilot. "Mr. de Mer, I confirm all docking connectors show green, discharge arm extended, umbilical nominal...." and continues through the checklist, unless any anomalies show up. His attitude is `Business as usual'.

"Stay on the Bridge until we're safely docked, Lazer," 'Vouf says mildly. "I REALLY don't like anyone letting their guard down while we're out... HERE." He sighs. "And pick up your gun before someone kicks it and shoots someone, e-hrf?"

Lazer nods fractionally.

He retrieves his pistol and holsters it, and takes a spare acceleration couch. He configures his board to general systems, with a repeater from Etienne's weapons panel. A quick check reassures him that the security interlocks on the secondary missile rack are restored.

Then he sits back and gazes out the main viewscreen at the weirdly glowing, claustrophobic arc of the Ring's pocket universe. His posture is comfortably alert and his eyes are clear again.

Etienne notices the blink of a message saying that his weapons controls had been duplicated and quickly looks up from his maneuvering. When he sees Lazer sitting nearby he nods and takes the time to send his weapons data trailing after the gravitic controls, into whatever place it is that holographic data spheres go when they die.

Johann have been sitting looking at the sensor readouts since the strange transfer too place muttering 'wierd, wierd, wierd' when he suddenly speaks up:

"Is this your work Vouf? Moved entire ships in the same way you exchanged yourself and Ger?"

"Yeah, I'm actually an Ancient myself, and you're all my lab animals," 'Vouf snaps. He then catches himself, and rubs his nose, frowning. "Sorry, A.P., that was out of line."

"I'd be interested in that answer as well," Zben adds, "Or is security involved?"

"Na, I don't think so." Mac shakes his head. "If Vouf can do all this just by himself. He would have been the MOST POWERFUL being existing on the face of this universe. While I think highly of Vouf, I don't think his abilities are QUITE THAT GOOD."

'Vouf manages a laugh at that, but it's kind of feeble. In fact, he looks like he's starting to show definite signs of wear and tear....

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mister Witfield. Remind me to promote you to the rank of Demigod when I *do* take the throne of the Great Pack!"

Mac gives him a glance of comfort. "Hmm, demigod. This has promise. Think of all the things I can do." He smiles.

"No," 'Vouf continues wearily, "I *didn't* do this. I didn't actually *DO* ANYTHING."

He grimaces. "It was the Ring. I'm from a part of the Galaxy where psionics isn't as feared as it is in the Imperium-- my culture views it as more of a tool that requires discipline than a terrible curse. When the Ring demonstrated essentially infinite power at its command, I just made a wild guess and asked it to key into my thoughts and let me do stuff. Anyone else could have done it, if their prejudices had allowed them to even consider it....."

Etienne spares a short glance over his shoulder at Bhyarvouf, too short a time for anyone to decide if his expression of disgust is aimed at the Vargr or at himself.

'Vouf's eyes gleam for a moment. "I can see why psis find it so invigorating. Infinite power at my command-- every Vargr's dream. To GO anywhere, BE anywhere, DO ANYTHING, with just a thought! The problem is, my poor head wasn't really built for that kind of thing."

He gives Zben a rueful look. "You said you felt like the rabbit going INTO the hat, Zben? Well, I feel like the hose after someone turned off the water pressure. I'm gonna sleep for a MONTH when I finally tuck my nose under my tail...."

"'Scuse me a moment." He steps off the Bridge after Rigo.

Abuko calls after his retreating back, "Mighty considerate of R-alpha to cart us off and lock us up in pseudo- jumpspace without a single word of explanation of where or why!" Johann both sounds and looks very uncomfortable with the situation. "It didn't bother telling you where or why or for how long I suppose? Is it still there so you can ask it?"

"No, and no." The iris valve shuts.

'Vouf follows Rigo aft to Engineering. On the way down there, he says, "What's on your mind, Rigo?"

Rigo turns to Bhyarrouf. His voice sounds apologetic, his words are formal, but underneath 'Vouf can still smell repressed anger. "Mr. Bhyarrvouf, I want to apologize for drawing a gun on you. I got the wrong impression about your mental... er... that is... You see, I was in a hostages situation that when sour once. That was one of the reasons why I retired. I remember the way the perp's voice sounded... Anyway, you pushed the wrong buttons when you arrived like that. When you... when you..." Suddenly the anger breaks through and Rigo's voice goes up quite a few decibels. "What the holy blue blazes did you think you were doing, bursting into a hostage situation with guns waving in all directions!?! Don't you realize you could've caused a bloodbath? Stars above, man, the situation was under control! It was defusing! And then you comes barging in like a cheap holovid _chikkal_ after a quadgang!! I've posted rookies to The Black Hole for less brainburnt behavior! I would be obliged, _Sir_, if, the next time you decide to use your balls for brains, you'd take a deep breath and think again. If you ever, _EVER_, pull another stunt like that, then, superior officer or not, I'm going to give you the licking of a lifetime, or at least have me a good country try, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?!"

'Vouf's ears go back reflexively when Rigo raises his voice, and he lets Rigo vent his steam for as long as is necessary. He then pauses and scratches his chin for a moment, and when he speaks his voice is that same icy whisper that scared Rigo in the first place....

"Mister Edmondsen, I appreciate both your concern and your experience regarding these matters. But as you pointed out, this WAS a hostage situation, with weapons, LETHAL weapons, drawn and aimed at a helpless prisoner. If YOU were in a position to replace an unarmed man, the only hostage leverage a group of khebreyth had, with a surprise intervention by an armed and armored officer whose JOB it is to get shot at, AND rescue your superior officer by putting yourself in his place at the same time....wouldn't YOU have taken the chance?"

He doesn't give Rigo time to answer. "I think you would, because you know hostage situations as well as I do. A normalizing situation, such as the one that existed prior to my arrival, can flare up again at a moment's notice, and I preferred to take the Count's place if that were to happen. Besides," and with that, his voice returns to its normal half-bark, "It was a calculated risk-- I knew I could hit Lazer in time, and if YOU drew on me you were only carrying a stungun. Shooting somebody would've sobered everyone up in a BIG hurry. As it was," and he rubs his nose, "Nobody got hurt. Much."

"And maybe, just MAYBE, I *was* looking for a fight before you bopped me one. But that's the closest you're ever going to get to my admitting partial blame... and if you want to take a poke at me, for this or any other offense of which you feel I'm guilty, and you're willing to take the consequences, feel free." That last remark was delivered with a smile. Or at least it LOOKED like a smile-- on a Vargr, it's hard to tell sometimes....

Rigo closes his eyes as if in pain and opens them again. "Mr. Bhyarrvouf, I would not, and though this is not the time to go into a lenghty debate, I must at least tell you why, because you're kidding yourself. What you did was admirably brave. It was also the self-indulgent act of an short- sighted, irresponsible fool. It would have been appropiate against a band of hop-head sociopaths, but not against a cabin-full of calm, sober, but tense, professionals. If any gun had gone off everybody would've gotten into the act, not just you, me and Mr. Farouk. You may have calculated the risk to yourself, but you totally failed to consider everybody else. Acts of personal bravery may be necessary to lead a pack, but it takes more to make a good peace officer. Or any other kind of officer, I should imagine." He grins. "Reckless bravery is all right for lone wolves, but you have responsibilities to others than yourself now. OK, I've had my say. Think about it."

"I've been an officer for a long time, Rigo," 'Vouf remarks. "From about my twenty-second birthday to this month, it was always on Vargr craft. I'm sorry if you think the Vargr way of handling things is irresponsible, but it's how I've worked in the past. Don't think that I'm shrugging off your arguments, though-- if you're demonstrably upset that this was mishandled, then I deserve to give your views a thorough airing. Especially in the light of the fact that there WILL be an inquiry into these matters -- and I'M probably going to be conducting it. Human justice for humans. Probably the safest and fairest thing in the long run. I may even learn something!" The half-smile that follows this is shortened by weariness.

Bhyarrvouf may have his doubts about Rigo's ability to carry out his threat, but none whatsoever about his sincerity. However, as he pauses to draw breath, Rigo relaxes and his angry face is replaced by a puzzled frown. "Say... how the Hole did you pull that stunt anyway???"

Bhyarrvouf's iron demeanor wilts a bit. "I *didn't*," he says. "Like I told Zben-- it was the *Ring* that did it. I just told it where I had to go, and it plunked Ger down on the Alcyon's Bridge, safe and sound, and put me in the hotseat in his place. It also," he adds with an angry snarl, "yanked Jett away before I could do him an injury or three."

"Jett?"

"Yes, JETT." 'Vouf scowls. This isn't a madman's anger, though; it's the more familiar frustrated-Vargr look everyone's seen at least once. "He and I were enemies from the start, Rigo. I was doing my damnedest to stay fair and objective with EVERYONE on board, but he just came waltzing into Ger's office and said that effectively HE was going to run things from now on, just to 'look out for Turnskaad's interests'."

"Look out for their interests!" 'Vouf seethes silently for a moment. "If they didn't trust us, why give us the Alcyon to begin with? Why not send a crew they DID trust? And what in the name of the Thagk-Kabra could one snide LAWYER accomplish to stop us, if we WEREN'T trustworthy? If he had no power, then he just served as a living insult to our integrity. If he DID have a deadman switch of some kind, then we could be equally badly crippled...." He sighs and shakes his head. "It's the principle of the thing. He acted as if our signatures, our word of honor, was meaningless. When I say I'm going to do something, I DO it. I don't need a lawyer breathing down my neck to MAKE me honorable or decent!"

He rubs his eyes. "Forgive me...I'm rambling. Not as young as I used to be, and this has been a TSAKHA-smelly long day. And a long way to go before I can sleep, I bet...."

"Rigo," 'Vouf says, "I consider this matter closed, at least as far as your drawing the gun is concerned. I don't plan to press charges of assaulting a fellow officer, on two conditions. One, that you replace the grips on your stungun with nonslip type at once. And two, that you teach me that reverse-draw you used on me."

Rigo looks ruefully at his stun-gun: "First chance I get, you can bet your canines on that! As for the reverse-draw..." He grins and stretches out his hand for a shake. "It's a deal, 'Vouf, provided you let me lecture you a bit about human-type hostage psycology. And perhaps you can reciprocate about vargr-type behaviour. My knowledge there seems a bit deficient! Now, don't you think you'd better get back to the business of commanding, Sub-commander?"

"No rest for the weary," 'Vouf sighs. "Okay, it's a date." He shakes hands with Rigo, his grip gentle despite the cybernetic muscles.

'Vouf grins, and this time the smile is genuine. "Go tell Fitz it really IS okay to put the guns back on line. I'm for the Bridge." He leaves.

Rigo enters the Kingfisher's Engineering Room and looks around for Severin. "Need any help fixing that turret?" he asks.

"Nope," Severin says. "All done. Just pulled a fuse, is all. Had 'em back on line soon's I heard about the Solomani. What's goin' on out there?"

Severin punches his commdot. "A 'Vouf! The Turret all taken care of..., but you could sent down one of those *real* engineers to relieve me..." He winks at Rigo.

"BTW, has anyone done any gravitational constants tests here? Should be interesting..."

After Rigo leaves, Fitz Severin stays behind in the engineering compartment with his feet up, flipping through display channels looking at the various craft inside our pocket universe...

"About time, *someone* relieved me... howcome, a *real* engineer wasn't on duty back here the whole time though the supposed trip to the ringworld... Sure would have been handy what with AI computer invasions, system crashs, missle attacks, war fleets, and all?"

"But Nooo...! Everyone wants to cram themselves up on the bridge, but doesn't want to do the dirty work back here..."

Vouf comes back from aft, where he's left Rigo and Fitz with the turret circuits, just as Mac finishes running down the list of ships, ending with the Trakh....

"Sir, the Aslans are hailing us." Mac looks to Vouf. When Vouf nods, Mac will open the hailing frequency.

"Topnotch, Mac." Bhyarrvouf straightens his uniform, and runs a quick hand over his fur to smooth it, then sits down in the command chair to face the holo pickup. He summons up, from some storage battery somewhere, the oomph to look "commanding."

Mac smiles at Vouf's attempt to look commanding and together.

"Keyaho, _Trakh._ This is Turnskaad Command Shuttle Kingfisher.... Might I have the honor of communicating with your commanding officer?"

He flicks off the holo for a moment, and whispers to Mac, "Punch in a fast datapulse to the Alcyon; get Ger's permission to let them dock, or not."

"Aye sir." Mac punches a few buttons. Sending datapulse to Alcyon. _Commander Ger. Vouf Request your permission to let the Aslan dock_

'Vouf settles back in his chair to await the Aslan answer, and suddenly sits up with a small, surprised yip. He reaches under him, and picks up a small metallic object from off the command chair cushions. A psi-shield.

He tosses it to Mac, and waggles a hand.

_ASK GWR IF OTS HIS_

Mac catches it with his left hand. And started smiling.

Witfield transmits more message to Alcyon.

_SO LIKE, GER. DID YOU LOSE A PSI-SHIELD OR TWO? _

Ger doesn't bother answering the message.

The Khaurl has not been idle in the minutes since the sudden shift. Responding to Akhouw's orders, it has peeled off to intercept the Trakh, and was in fact about to do so when the question of the lifepod was raised. The Khaurl's pilot, acting on his own authority, elected to haul in the lifepod himself, thereby risking only the shuttle and not the Trakh.

The operation was a simple one; despite the fear of being exposed to the grey nothingness with only a vacc suit on, there were no ill effects, and the lifepod was quickly manhandled into the Khaurl's tiny cargo bay.

After that, the Trakh receives a lasercom call from the Khaurl:

"Trakh, this is Khaurl. We have retrieved the fiyfiyalr lifepod and opened it. Two occupants, both alive but unconscious from lack of oxygen. One hisol'i, a female of the administrative sort from what we can tell, and a male arlaeaha, quite large for the species and heavily armed. We have confiscated the arlaeaha's weapon pending your approval; awaiting permission to dock. Have medical personnel standing by with oxygen masks."

"Fine work, Eihoftyah. Retain the arlaeaha's weaponry for the moment until medical has looked him over and we have had a chance to talk to both beings. Permission to dock is granted. Upon arrival, transport the beings to Sickbay, Aeawiyh will meet you at the pinnace bay. Post a trooper outside Sickbay for the moment."

Akhouw growls in evident satisfaction. At least SOME things were going right around here...

He activates the intercom. "Doctor Aeawiyh, report to Pinnace Bay with standard medkit and oxygen apparatus." Akhouw turns to Aolrkhea'. "Join them in Sickbay when you are able. Try and see if you can discover where these beings have come from."

"As you wish, M'lord," Aeawiyh replies. "Reports will follow as soon as feasible."

"Noted, Doctor. I will be in Sickbay shortly."

A very soft sigh escapes Aolrkhea''s lips. *Much better than I'd hoped.* "Aeawiyh. Remember to take the computer medscanner to the dock, not the little portables, or you'll get all sorts of false alarms off those Terran bioforms until we can recalibrate them. I'll be in sickbay swiftly."

"Fa'eairl. When the casualties are brought aboard, please route audio from their location to my commdot. Also any important messages."

"Eihoftyah, Aolrkhea'. Are there any other signs of trauma on the patients? Can you estimate how long they've been without oxygen? Over."

She swiftly returns her station to unattended operation, and removing her acceleration couch restraints, leaves the bridge.

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