The TML PBeM

1993, Turn 0 - Part 7 (of 7)

Sickbay - 13:30

Lazer enters Sickbay with a hefty sandwich in one hand and an equally large juice bulb in the other. "So, doc, you mind if I combine this with my lunch break?"

"Sorry to disturb your meal, Major," Tabor sighs, "But Jan's informed me that there's no need to recheck you or any of your staff, except Mister Awntremont. Everyone else has recent physicals on file. Have Awtremont stop in at some point, and otherwise...." he sighs wistfully. "Eat a few bites for me, hmmm?"

The voices of the departing labourers echo shallowly in Number 2 Hold as Merkle quietly sits in his office cube, tappity-tapping some final details into his terminal.

<< Bridge, this is Loadmaster Merkle reporting. All cargo is secure. You may seal the Hold hatchways. I imagine Security will want to complete their bug sweep. The manifests and the final distribution plans are on file. Merkle out. >>

He sets up a simple advisory for inquiring about where their favourite piece of luggage is. "After we have lifted, I will advise all crew with personal cargo, of it's placement."

Bhyarrvouf comes onto the Bridge, gingerly, as if expecting to get knocked down again. He looks around. "Two minutes to the Bridge meeting," he says to no one in particular, and begins shaking hands and greeting those he hadn't seen yet.....

A mere fraction of a second after 'Vouf enters through the iris, Akhouw sharply intones, "Captain on the Bridge!" and turns the command chair to face 'Vouf, rising from it to stand at attention. He gestures with one hand at the seat. "Do you wish to take the conn, Captain?"

"Indeed," 'Vouf nods. "You have a meeting to chair, if I'm not mistaken."

A few seconds after Vouf walks onto the bridge, Goughzar opens the Iris valve and steps onto the bridge. Watching Akhouw's ears for the telltale signs of his attention, Goughzar announces to him "Goughzar reporting for Bridge meeting as ordered... Sir".

Having announced him, he steps around to the navigation console and peers at the diagrams floating in the air as Vouf says hello to the crew.

Grinning at Nishu, and a polite nod to Aiwi, Goughzar reviews the diagrams. Listening with one ear to Vouf, he turns away from the diagrams, unsure that he could do anything better without a couple of days and the brains of the Paladin at his disposal. Goughzar looks about the bridge, noting the lack of extraneous chairs to lounge upon until the meeting begins in earnest, and moves over to a wall and leans against it, standing out of the way as much as possible, and keeping an observant eye on the general movements about the bridge.

As each person enters the Bridge, Akhouw recognizes them with a slow and relaxed nod of the head. As the clock closes in on 1400, Akhouw glances around the Bridge, as if following a mental checklist. When he finishes, there is only one name left. *THAT* name. An irritated growl wafts throughout the Bridge, indicating his displeasure at the tardiness. And yet... there seems to be a certain quality to Akhouw's demeanor that can not be attributed to Ger's mere slowness.

The seconds between 1400 and 1402 tick by with painful slowness for all on the bridge, as Akhouw holds up the start of the Bridge meeting until the dawdling Darrian shows up. The towering Aslan stands near the command chair with an increasingly sour expression, glancing at the iris with razor-sharp looks.

At 1402 Ger enters the Bridge uncharacteristically late...

"Sorry I'm Late, I thought the bridge meeting would be in the Conference room not on the bridge itself...."

As Ger enters the Bridge, he is immediately cognizant of Commander Akhouw, who fixes Ger with a frigid and unforgiving gaze. His tone is equally frosty. "That is unacceptable, Mister Nanadh. You were plainly instructed by Mister Blaine that the meeting would commence *on the Bridge* at precisely 1400. Your excuses do you no honor. You will not repeat this failure." The last is not a question, but a flat statement of fact which Akhouw emphasizes with a sharp tap of claw on console.

With that curt reprimand, Akhouw turns to the other members of the bridge crew with his usual unhurried pose. "By now all of you should have received copies of the Bridge roster from Crew Chief Aiwi. I believe you are all familiar with the rotation schedule, so I will not waste your time in reviewing it."

Akhouw stands up to his full height and tosses his mane, quietly measuring the moment before he again speaks. "Unless any of you have a particular question or problem, let me get to the primary reason for this meeting, which is my chance to introduce myself to you and make a few things clear." Akhouw smiles, slightly, as he continues to speak. "I trust that none, or certainly nearly all of you, have never served under an Aslan commander. No doubt you will find me to be unlike the typical commander you have met. Certainly this situation is unique to me as well, but I am sure we will all make necessary adjustments." He becomes more formal in his bearing. "My personal standing orders are simple. One: I am the Captain's problem solver. If you have any question, problem or difficulty, talk to me or Crew Chief Aiwi *before* you bother Captain Bhyarrvouf. Two: If you are in any doubt, even if you just want to know what time it is, call me to the Bridge. I do *not* wish to find out about problems after-the-fact." Akhouw looks at each person, to see if his words are sinking in. His formal tone softens to a more natural level. "This is going to be an unusual mission to a most unusual place. Keep alert and stay flexible, and most importantly..." Akhouw looks about again. "...enjoy yourselves." He refers briefly to a small (for an Aslan, it's more like a notebook) notepad before looking up.

Etienne quietly takes in Commander Akhouw's advice, while making a mental note to ask Pater about the specifics of Aslan bridge protocol.

"One other matter: do any Helm Officers have experience in lifting heavy ships from planetside starports?" Akhouw looks at Etienne in particular, though he does dart a glance at Ger.

Etienne's relaxed, parade rest stance stiffens slightly as he replies. "Sir, I've had far less experience with large ships than my Captain's rank would suggest. My last three promotions were during war time and many of the formal requirements were waved."

"I was Helmsman aboard an SEH-class light cruiser during my year at OCS, and I commanded a fighter squadron aboard a Voroshilef-class battleship which included standing watches as helmsman." He finishes with an apologetic shrug, "However, I only had the conn twice during liftoff at OCS and never of the battleship."

After waiting for Etienne to speak first, Ger steps casually forward from the back of the assembled bridge personnel.

"Commander, It's been 7 years since I've piloted any *star*ship, however most of my experience is on capital ships.", Ger adds with a neutral facial expression.

Goughzar says, "Commander Akhouw, Sir. I have little experience with ships above 10,000 tons. My experience ranges far better in the 100 to 400 ton range."

Akhouw listens to Etienne, Ger and Zar with a studied, non-committal expression. "Thank you, gentlemen, for your reports." He addresses the group of Bridge officers as a whole. "Stay ready, gentlemen, as it is likely to be a busy time until we are safely into Jump, and I may need to call upon you for your effort at any time. This meeting is concluded." He turns to face Etienne. "You have the Conn, Mister de Mer." Akhouw nods to Etienne, and then exits the Bridge and makes his way down the corridor to his cabin.

Etienne responds, "aye, aye, Sir!" as he turns and reseats himself at the helm station.

Goughzar stands as Akhouw departs the bridge, then quietly leaves, his face slightly clouded with unknown concerns.

After a minute Ger walks over to the helm, and of course Etienne.

"Mr. de Mer. As the helm is not currently in use, do you mind if I take a minute or two to set up my configurations so things will gp smoothly at the midnight shift change?"

Etienne glances up, nods, and pushes his chair out of the way, "As you please," slight hesitation, "Mister Ger."

"Thank You", significant pause, "Mister Etienne?"

Ger quickly configures the console to his preferences, including the use of the Darrian Language for all messages and labels. With the help of a data cube this requires but a few moments. After the quick task Ger resets the console back to the way it was originally.

"As we will be in burn away from the gas giant at 0000h I thought it would be best to do this now, just in case."

After the conclusion of the Bridge Department Meeting, Aiwi returns to the main navigation station, where Neriika is deep in thought, studying a three-dimensional projection of the Elissa's escape trajectory from the gas giant moon. With a soft "Fiya'", she reaches across him to key the auxiliary displays on-line, and takes a moment to study the graphs of vessel attitude and momentum change.

"Ftt-t-t-t-t-t....A simple patched conic solution on the escape trajectory insertion phase, hrrrr, Mister Neriika?" A slight grin. "A little more application often pays dividends..." A flourish of her fingers, and she enters a new command sequence. The navcomp iterates a new solution to that portion of the trajectory, showing a total flight time some ten minutes less than before...

"Recheck the computations for the phase T plus two hours to T plus six hours. There may be some second-degree gravitational effects in the gas giant system we haven't accounted for..."

After finishing the setup, Ger goes over to the navigation station: "Hi, Can I help out at all?"

Aiwi half-turns from the nav console and regards him coolly, as though such familiarity were not appreciated...

"Hrrr...I don't think so, Mister Nanadh. However, I have some duties to attend to elsewhere on the ship. If Mister Neriika has any queries, you may wish to make yourself available."

"You have the console, Mister Neriika." She moves to her own consoles and keys the displays to standby. She turns to Etienne.

"Mister de Mer, I intend to conduct a short tour of inspection of the Elissa. I do not anticipate any problems arising at Navigation, but if so, I am sure PATER will be able to find me."

She picks up her hand computer from beside her console, and, with a nod to Akhouw, strides from the bridge.

Once the bridge iris valve flicks shut behind her, she pauses to strap the handcomp to her left forearm. A slow breath, and she stands erect, as if at attention.

"PATER, plot the most efficient route for a tour of inspection visiting all major ship operational areas."

_Very well, chief._ replies PATER. _Omitting the computer compartment and communications service bay, as they are normally unmanned, please proceed aft to lift number two and descent to deck five. Your first stop will be sickbay, followed by the physical sciences compartment..._

Systematically, PATER leads the crew chief through the three cargo bays, and all points aft in engineering.

At 1400, a somewhat harried Angus MacLaeran enters sickbay with a somewhat confused look on his face. Upon entering the door, his face brightens, "Good. I found it. I just love learning a new deckplan."

Angus looks around for someone to talk to and asks, "Is there a 'Dr. Yorblin' here? I need to get my physical."

"I'm Joachim Tabor, Medical. Doctor Yorblin has placed me in charge of physicals. Shirt off, hop on the table and we'll have you out of here in a jiffy. Well, maybe TWO jiffies. And you are?"

The physical proceeds routinely, and in ten minutes Angus is back out the door again with a clean bill of health.

Boris slows down a bit before going through the sickbay door. He stops inside, letting his eyes adjust to the more mellow light level, taking a deep breath, ...relaxing.

He catches the eye of the first medic, smiles warmly from ear to ear, and offers his hand saying, "Boris Merkle..nice to meet ya. I'm here for a physical."

Tabor shakes his hand with a smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Merkle. I'm Joachim Tabor, Medical. Hop up on the table there, peel off your shirt, and we'll get you out the door as quickly as we can. Doctor DaSilva? If you would?"

For the next five or ten minutes, DaSilva runs scans and tests of blood and skin samples while Tabor does a thorough physical exam, from heart and lungs to joints and reflexes. Satisfied, Tabor says, "You're in fine shape, Mister Merkle, although that scar of yours shows signs of some follicle problems... It's certainly not life-threatening, but if for any reason you develop a maddening itch or pain anywhere along the scar, or suddenly develop acne along the edges, let me know and I'll do an excise. It'll only take a minute. Off you go!"

Upon entering his cabin, Akhouw touches the environmental controls. The cabin light fades to a dim red, and the privacy notification (door and communications) is established. Akhouw sits on the bed and folds his legs and arms into the relaxed and restful meditation pose, drifting off into a peaceful mental state, restoring his energy for the stress of liftoff that would soon follow.

Akhouw's meditations are interrupted by a soft chime at his door. There is only one person who would interrupt him without an alert being sounded....

"Forgive my unseemly intrusion, siaenrra," 'Vouf says, "But I want to know whom you've chosen to man the Helm for Liftoff. The initial stage, inside the gravity well, is very tricky, and I want someone with Helm experience on a ship over 10,000 tonnes to be on the stick."

Akhouw waves off the apology. "No, Captain, this is no intrusion. Please, sir, be comfortable here." He gestures at a chair near the bed. "I have meditated on the subject. Both Mister Goughzar and Sir Van Der Merwe have little or no experience with larger starships; their experiences are substantially confined to smaller IISS ships. Mister de Mer has greater but limited experience. Mister Ger has the most experience but has not piloted such a ship for many years."

Akhouw pauses for a thoughtful moment. "Sir, my experience with the Khaukheairl Navy has primarily been with cruisers and battleships, both individual and fleet commands. Until my recent assignment to the Trakh, in recent years I have continued this experience, piloting capital ships myself." He smiles at the memory of having such large and powerful capital ships at the control of his paws. He looks up at Bhyarrvouf. "Therefore, sir, I believe I should be the pilot to lift the Elissa."

'Vouf nods slowly. "I had my eye on Nanadh Ger, actually, but I hadn't realized he hadn't done any sims recently to keep his hand in. Very well, my friend. You'll have the Helm tonight. In the meantime, rest and gather your, hrrrr, your 'ao'." He frowns, wondering if he used the right word, and lets himself out.

Once in the corridor Etienne quickens his pace slightly, heading for his cabin. Once there he picks up the weapon case with his shotgun, quickly checks his map for the location of Security HQ, and makes his way there.

Stepping through the door he greets the person on duty and presents his gun-case. "One combat shotgun with about 20 rounds of standard ammo." He pats the blade at his hip and adds, "I assume the rules about steel are the same as on the Alcyon and I can still carry Kireina?"

With that taken care of Etienne returns to his cabin and rests and relaxes.

Ambling slowly to the first drop shaft, Goughzar descends to deck 5 and enters the Sick Bay. Looking around quickly, "I just thought I'd check and see if you needed anything from me this time. I had a full physical when they took me out of low berth on the trip to the Ringworld aboard the Alcyon."

"Your records are up to date enough for Doctor Yorblin, 'Zar," Tabor says, "You don't need to be looked at again unless you're not feeling well."

Leaving sickbay, Goughzar ambles across the hall and looks in on the Physical Sciences Holotank. Stepping back out of the room quietly, he continues a short tour of the deck, including peering into the low berth area. Returning to the lifts, he steps up to deck 3 and looks into his cabin. Anyone noting his presence will see that he is completely withdrawn at the moment, obviously absorbed with his own thoughts. Without touching anything in his cabin, begins a quick walk up to the dorsal starship mounts, his pace quickening slightly as he approaches the Paladin.

Stopping just outside the air lock to the Paladin, he turns to the thin air...

"Pater?"

_Yes, Mister Goughzar?_

"What is the exact wording of our mission directive? And are there any directives that I don't have access to to your knowledge?"

_The mission directive for the Elissa is to return to the exact point in space where the unusual phenomenon was observed, determine if it is still present, and to explore it with unmanned probes and manned missions at the discretion of the Captain and for a length of time subject to his decision. The Elissa is then to return home with any data and/or artifacts it may have acquired, with the dual purpose of providing data for the scientific community and character evidence in the impending trial of Rachel Turnskaad. There are no secret mission objectives, by the express order of Captain Bhyarrvouf, whose first task as Captain was to order an Alpha-level search of my memory cores for buried tasks contrary to this ship's stated mission. There were none._

"Thanks Pater", and Goughzar climbs up into the Paladin for a short rest.

Sometime during the afternoon, Rigo heads down to get his second physical in two months, and is turned away by a grumbling Dr. Tabor, muttering about "stupid holdover regs" and "can't I stick a needle in SOMEONE?".

The handcomp lying on the corner of the blanket, seems oddly out of place with the basket of food, the sunlight on the sea, the alluring companion. As well, it's soft but persistant "bzzzt bzzzt" is becoming more irritating!

Merkles opened his eyes, reaches out to the handcomp and gently presses a button. The cabin is silent. He unfolds his legs and rises from the floor. Looking at the four unadorned walls he thinks about his home on Bendor. He wasn't on the sea, but at least he was in a good ship. The ones that *didn't* make it to fifty, were the ones to watch out for.

Moments later, freshened and dressed, and heading for the door...

At 15:52, the bridge hatch hisses open and Bishop steps through. He is dressed in his usual garb, with one noticable change: the "INN" patch has been neatly removed from his gear vest.

"Afternoon, mister de Mer." Bishop addresses the OOD. "Almost 1600 hours. I'm reporting for C-shift bridge commo duty."

"Nice to see you again Mister Bishop."

Turning to the commo position, Bishop smiles at Zben, and claps him lightly on the shoulder. "I relieve you, mister Blaine. Time for a break."

"Aye Sir!" Zben eyes the clock. "Give me one minute..." Without waiting for an answer he takes a holocrystal and plugs it into a scoket on the Commo board. "PATER, please download to port C-64 the available schematics for intra-ship communications including available frequencies and bandwidth suitable for use with handcomms and hand computers." In it's inimitable style PATER has the information loaded practically before Zben is done asking for it. Popping the crystal out of the recorder and into his pocket, Zben stands and stretches, this action accompanied by several audible `pops' and `snaps'. Picking up a remarkably ugly plastic bracelet from the consol and sliding it on his right wrist, he sketches a sloppy salute toward Bishop. "I stand relieved!"

As Zben leaves the acceleration couch at the commo station, Bishop smoothly slides in to take his place. Even as he takes the seat, the holo-panel automatically reconfigures itself to match Bishop's preferences.

With a slight frown, Zben watches `his' board reconfigure. Shrugging, he turns to Etienne. "Sir, I stand relieved. Permission to leave the Bridge? "

"Granted Mister Blaine. I hope to follow you soon."

"Thank you, PATER" smiles Bishop, settling into his seat, "Light 'em up. Time for the five minute warning."

_Affirmative, Adrian._ responds PATER. Down the length of the Elissa, in all public compartments (and in the appropriate private compartments), the public address system comes to life. A soft chime sounds a double pulse, then repeats it. After the second pair of tones fades away, PATER speaks.

_Five minutes until shift change. All C-shift personnel report to your duty stations. Repeat, five minutes until shift change._

Completing the commo boardcheck, Bishop turns to Etienne.

"Mister de Mer," say Bishop, "with your permission, I'll give launch control a six hour time hack, and advise the yard to begin topping our fuel tanks."

"Proceed Mister Bishop. Warn Engineering to expect the fuel. Also, give Misters Van der Merwe and Goughzar a call if they aren't on the bridge by 1605. I gather the impression our new First Officer doesn't appreciate tardiness."

"Affirmative." Bishop reaches for the comm panel.

<< Yard control, this is Elissa. We are now in pre-launch cycle, per filed flight plan. Launch at T minus five hours , fifty-seven minutes, and ten seconds, on my mark... mark. We are secure from venting. Please commence final fuel transfer. Elissa out. >>

Deftly switching to intra-ship, Bishop continues.

<< Engineering, this is the bridge. The yard has been given a five hour and fifty-seven minute time hack for launch. Stand by to receive outboard fuel tamping. Bridge out. >>

Bishop quickly checks the time, and then proceeds to carry out his last order.

"PATER, give me multi-cast on mister Goughzar and doctor van der Merwe's commdots, please." requests Bishop.

_Multi-cast enabled, Adrian._ is the instant reply.

<< Gentlemen. The pleasure of your presence is requested on the bridge *immediately*. We have a large, touchy Aslan up here with a stopwatch and the *clock* is running. Bridge out. >>

A few minutes later, the Bridge iris valve opens and Christian enters with a brisk step. He looks around the large room for the first time, with evident pleasure, takes a deep breath, and slowly exhales. He walks directly to the command chair and taps the back with his swagger stick. "Greetings, Mister De Mer. I relieve you, sir."

"The conn is yours, Mister Van Der Merwe." With a nod and a wave to everyone on the bridge Etienne heads aft.

Goughzar steps off the lift platform to deck 4, stopping for 2 minutes in the crew mess to grab another large cup of tea, this time heavy with sugar and milk. Passing through the last doorway, he sees van der Merwe's back pass into the bridge. Walking up to the door, he stops for a moment and crisps his uniform (a well used and well taken care of scout issue tailored vacc suit). Carrying his helmet under one arm and his tea in the other hand, he steps onto the bridge as his comm dot ring through with Bishop's message.

Christian waits for Etienne to make his way off the bridge before he sits down in the command chair with a soft sigh. He idly studies the unicorn on his swagger stick for a moment before he puts it aside and surveys the status monitors for a few minutes. He turns his head and looks at Adrian, favoring him with a broad smile. "Talk to me Bishop.. Anything important happening?"

"Oh, hello doctor." Bishop swings around in his G-couch. "My apologies. I didn't hear you come in. I'm afraid I just sent you an undeserved nasty-gram."

Christian looks over at Bishop. "Oh, I'm sure that broke your heart to do that, Adrian," he deadpans, then chuckles. "That's fine, Adrian, better to err on the side of caution... but how about a candy-gram to make up for it, eh?" Christian laughs, then notices Goughzar arriving.

Goughzar puts in, "Thank you Bishop... That was just a lovely reminder. I'll remember to wake you at some point when you're walking out of your stateroom. ... (in a much lower voice) bhasto."

Then turning to Christian, "Good afternoon Doctor...", relaxing a moment and smiling, "it's good to be serving with you again. Goughzar reporting for duty, Sir".

Christian nods with evident pleasure. "Thank you, Mister Goughzar, I appreciate the sentiment. I'm glad to be working with you as well!"

His back still to Goughzar, Bishop smiles and comments, "Be careful, helmsman. The walls have ears." After a pause, he adds, "Perhaps more 'bhastoum' than 'bhasto'," Bishop's pronounciation is somewhat mechanical, "but I'm feeling *much* better now." Returning his attention to the commo station in front of him, the smile snaps off, like someone throwing a switch.

Goughzar takes his place at the Helm, "Pater, please request my standard helm control layouts from the Paladin and configure the board here to those specifications. Please set to reconfigure when I take this helm in future shifts."

_Affirmative, mister Goughzar._ PATER answers. A second passes, and then the holo-panel in front of Goughzar reconfigures itself to match the Paladin, with most of the components double-labelled in both Vuakedh and Galanglic.

Bishop reports: "With mister de Mer's permission, I've just given yard control a six hour time hack, and advised them to begin topping the fuel tanks. Engineering has been informed, and mister Munro has begun pre-flighting all aft plant and drive systems."

Without glancing at his status board, he continues. "Mister Merkle completed cargo loadout at thirteen fifty five hours, and all cargo bay hatches have been secured. We are now on inboard environment. Yard power and data umbilicals are ready for jettison, and fuel lines will be prepped when tank pressurization is finished. I expect engineering to advise us of the switch to internal power sometime within the next hour or so."

"Bridge engineering repeater shows SINS and gyros at flight ready, and the ships clock has been re-synched with the Imperial timebase."

"Things appear to be moving along smoothly." he concludes.

"I agree, Adrian. I'm sure you will keep me apprised as events continue to unfold."

Goughzar pipes up after Bishop is finished. Turning back to Christian, "Sir, I assume I'll be manning the helm until lift-off since I really don't have much experience lifting off with a ship quite this large. Do you have any information on that? Or is Akhouw working that up?"

Christian nods. "Aye, Mister Goughzar, I believe that Captain Bhyarrvouf and Commander Akhouw are taking care of the liftoff pilot." He wryly smiles. "Neither of us has very much large-ship experience, I would wager..." He sits back in the command chair and with a few taps on the console focuses the monitors on engineering subsystems, with the projected navigation plot as an adjacent hologram.

The all ship's call to shift C reverberates inside engineering. Munro looks up from her console while adjusting her data set to avoid one of the crystals in her hair. Another crystal on a thin very flexible wire is sticking out, so she removes it and puts in in one of the myriad pockets on her vest. Opening a channel to all the engineering staff, she announces.

"Okay folks. You heard the man upstairs. Four minutes to pre-flight. Button up whatever you're doing and get to your stations. Let's warn this puppy up." Clicking off the engineering channel, she flicks on the one to PATER.

"PATER, is there a steward on the Elissa?"

_Not as such, Mister Munro. The Captain has stated his intent to name one at some point, should that become feasible._

"Unfortunate. PATER, please give me the status of all tasks assigned to engineering and any changes detected from the diagnostics."

_All tasks listed have been satisfactorily completed. There are no new faults to report at this time. The Elissa is 100% nominal for Lift._

"Splendid. Caption Bhyarrvouf certainly knows how to pick a top notch crew. Please start preflight procedures."

<< Chief, this is Merkle. I'm on my way to Engineering right now. Does anyone want something on the way? It'll be some hours before we get to break, even for a wee... >>

With the Khtaliyr docked and prep'd for rider launch, Aolrkhea' hurries straight to sickbay for her watch. She places the Khaukheairl handcomp and med scanner aside, and peels off the grease covered coveralls. Still wearing her grav suit, she scrubs the grav-lube from her hands and facial fur, "Good afternoon, Dr. Tabor, what is our status?"

"Ah, good afternoon, Doctor 'Khea," Tabor nods with a gracious smile. "The new crew have been filtering in for their physicals. Doctor DaSilva and I have been handling them as they arrive. Here's the list of no-shows so far-- I would advise pinging them individually after 1800 if they don't show by then." He bows sharply to her. "I stand relieved, then, as soon as you're cleaned up and ready to go to work. I'll be in the Mess if you need me."

Aolrkhea' smiles pleasantly (no teeth this time). "Thank you, Dr. Tabor. You are relieved."

She dons a lab coat and starts reviewing crew medical files.

Zben leaves the bridge and makes his way to the grav lift that goes up to the Communications Bay. Opening up a diagnosis/work station, he quickly down loads the info from PATER on ship capabilities and frequencies. From his hand comp he pulls up a listing of channel assignment he made up for the Alycon, and does some moving around and shifting of allocations. From this he builds a frequncy tree containing multiplexed channel allocations with enough bandwidth separation to prevent cross-talk. He then runs an analysis model to deal with harmonics, known shipboard sources of RF, and spectra reflections shifts affecting wave propogation inside the ship. As an afterthought he ads an antifeed back program to deal with unit proximity. The results cause a few changes in the tree, which he edits. This whole operation takes just short of an hour.

Finally, satisfied, he copies the entire tree into his hand comp, and opens a text screen to PATER. :: PATER; Please study this for any obvious difficulties, and, baring those difficulties, prepare to install as standard operating proceedure, this intall to be initiated by either the Captain, or either Executive Officer. In addition forward this Frequency Allocation Suggestion to to Mr. Aiwi, copy to the Captain and Mr. Akhouw. Append previous instruction. ::

Reply text immediately appears on his display.

::Branch flow analysis indicates no parsing or boundary errors. Initiating packet testing on the new system. Please stand by.::

There is a short pause, while PATER waits for a gap in the use of existing shipboard comm channels. Then a broadcast message sounds on the shipwide public address.

_Attention please. New communication protocols are being installed and tested. There will be a thirty seven second interruption in voice, video, and data transmission within the ship. Please stand by._

The message is immediately followed by a rapid series of digital tones coming from data terminals, wall speakers, commdots, and all other manner of currently active communication devices on board. After the prescribed interval, the tones cease and PATER continues, _Testing complete. New shipboard communication protocols have been established. Please refer the central advisory on ShipNet for a detailed description of the new protocols and their proper use._

On Blaine's handcomp display, additional text appears.

::New communication protocols tested successfully and installed, per prior authorization by the captain. Documentation on the new system has been forwarded to the captain and both executive officers for review, comment, and implementation. - P::

Buttoning up the CommBay, he takes the lift back down to Deck 4. Entering the Crew Lounge he looks for the drink dispenser and orders a Lapsang Souchong tea.

Nick Talon emerges from the Westwind's air/raft bay, closely followed by Hur'Shurvan.

"Well, here we are again. It may not be much, but somehow it SMELLS like home."

"Did you forget your laundry again, Nicholas?"

"Ha." Talon sounds unamused. "Be a good fellow and go start ramping up the power, while I find out whether anyone in traffic control has condescended to approve our flight plan."

"Consider it done." Hur'Shurvan opens the iris valve to the drive room and lumbers inside with a swish of his tail.

Talon deftly hops over the departing tail in a maneuver made simple by years of practise. He turns the other way and heads down the central corridor toward the bridge.

Entering the bridge, he immediately slumps into the pilot's seat and flips the series of power switches which bring all his panels to life in a sudden multi-coloured extravaganza of lights. A slight furrow crosses his brow as his eyes focus on one light in particular. It sits there glowing defiantly red amidst a sea of green. He stares at it for a moment, and then gives it a sharp flick with his fingernail. The light turns green. Talon nods in satisfaction and leans back in his seat.

"Computer?"

_ready_

"Begin final sequence of pre-flight checks. And get me Space Traffic Control on the comm."

_confirmed. final pre-flight sequences initiated. communications channel now opening_

"This is ISS Westwind, preparing for liftoff. Request clearance for plan as previously logged. That's an intra-port hop to Pad 11. Over..."

Several minutes later, a somewhat grubby pale blue wedge shape descends slowly to settle on the Elissa's dorsal surface. As it comes to rest, the irritating whine of its drives begins to fade away slowly into silence.

Talon lifts his hand gently from the helm console and rests it on the arm of his seat. "Ok Shurv, you can power down now. For better or worse, we're well and truly docked."

He flips off the console and gets up from his seat. Something makes him pause for a moment and look thoughtfully at the main viewscreen which is currently showing the top of the Elissa and parts of the surrounding landing bay. On a whim he adjusts the viewscreen controls to look straight upward, into the sky.

He sees just what he expected to see: the tenuous colour of the thin atmosphere, the huge crescent of the gas giant starting to rise from the horizon, a few of the brighter stars sprinkling the background. His thoughts, however, are focused on what he *can't* see. Somewhere out there a star is missing. And with it has gone the remarkable world that quite literally encircled it.

Where could this most bizarre of worlds have gone? Will it be possible to find it again? Talon stands for a while contemplating the fact that he could be one of the first to find out.

A grin spreads slowly across his face. He switches off the viewscreen. As he leaves the bridge, he starts to hum one of Battle Damage's latest hits.

"The clock is running at liftoff minus thirteen minutes," Bishop said quietly. "All systems nominal; maneuver drives at full. We can lift as soon as Air/Space Traffic Control gives us the go signal."

"Not just yet," Bhyarrvouf muttered. "We're still one man short." He turned in the Command Chair as Akhouw entered the Bridge, and nodded in response to the huge Aslan's bow.

"Permission to take my position, Captain?"

"Ka'tai, Commander. Christian, you're relieved; stand down from the Helm."

"I stand relieved, sir." Van Der Merwe stood up from the Helm and bowed sharply to Akhouw, who took his place and quickly reconfigured the controls to his liking. Christian stepped back next to the Command chair, and said sotto voce, "Kind of a drag sitting at the Helm and not being able to even lift her, aenrra."

"You ever lifted one of these crates before, aenrra?" Bhyarrvouf grinned at his friend. "I have. ONCE. Caused minor structural damage. Cost me my Flight certification and got me sentenced to Engineering for the rest of my career...."

"I shall endeavour not to induce similar results, Captain," Akhouw growled without turning around. "The idea of a permanent assignment to Engineering is repellent to me."

"Thought it might be," 'Vouf smiled. "Don't concern yourself, Akhouw. I have full confidence in your abilities; otherwise, you wouldn't be sitting there right now."

"Noted, sir."

"Captain, there's an air/raft coming onto the field in violation of the area-clear signal," Bishop spoke up. "Moving very fast, course erratic. It's headed for the Elissa."

"Hurf? Hail it, Mister Bishop."

There was a crackle of static, then a familiar voice burst over the speakers. "--OTTVERDAMMTER AUSLANDER RADIO! ELISSA, DO YOU READ! DON'T TAKE OFF MITOUT ME! *DON'T TAKE OFF!!!*"

Bhyarrvouf seemed to relax slightly. "We were getting worried, Karl. You're just in time. Mission status?"

"Suczessvul, Mein Kapitan. Von hundrrred per ZENT. Pleaze haff Johann unt Manfrrrred meet me at ze carrrgo lock. Danke schon. Morszer out."

"Bitte schon, Elissa out." Bishop cut the circuit.

A moment later, the air/raft landed outside the lock. Johann Abuko and Manfred Werner were waiting at the top of the ramp as Karl Morser, dragging a pair of battered suitcases, hopped out of the 'raft and tossed the bags onto the cargo ramp carelessly. He then went around to the back of the 'raft, and hauled out a huge coffin-shaped metal box, floating easily on grav-pads. Abuko looked elated; Werner frowned disapprovingly.

"Johann! Herre is a Prrrezent for you frrrom Turrrnskaad," Morser said gaily. "Take verrry goot care of it-- it cost me a whole day's legal vork to get it!" Morser handed over the controls of the grav pads to Abuko, who immediately ran it up the ramp into the Elissa and began to open the case.

Werner walked up the ramp beside Morser as he waved away the 'raft and grabbed his bags. "All is in order in the Science Division, Karl. Doctor Smythe and his sensor satellite array arrived early, and his gear has been safely stowed away. The other Science personnel report ready for launch as well."

"Gut, gut, Manfred," Morser nodded. "I knew I made ze rrright choice in deputizing you vor ze Number Two job. You haff my zanks."

Werner accepted the praise with a faint nod, and touched his commdot. "Bridge, Doctor Morser is aboard..." He looked over his shoulder at Abuko, who was looking into the opened crate with an expression of fierce concentration. "...and so is our last uninvited guest."

<< Uninvited? hardly, >> came Bhyarrvouf's answering laugh. << Tell Johann he can drool later-- I want you all to your launch stations. And Doctor Werner? Make sure that crate is LOCKED TIGHT before we lift. >>

"With pleasure, sir," Werner snapped. He strode over to Abuko, and said, "You can play with your toy later, Johann. We're going to be lifting in a few minutes. We need to get situated."

Abuko looked up, momentarily annoyed and distracted. Then he nodded grudgingly. "You're right, of course," he muttered. "Help me with the lid, please."

Abuko and Werner grabbed the corners of the lid, and for a moment they looked down into the box, eye to eye with the unseeing camera lenses of Leadfoot, the robot with the deaths of Jaron Voga, Andreas Spear, Alexander Nayduz, and MT Dezierd on its metal hands.

Then the lid slammed shut with a clang.

At precisely 2200, in response to a gentle series of nudges from Akhouw, the Elissa lifted off the ground like a soap bubble from a child's straw, turning effortlessly above the snowy field. Her landing gear retracting, she gently nosed upward and began to accelerate, pulling away from the moon's gravity and arching outward toward the stars. A ragged cheer went up in Engineering, on the Bridge, and in the Sensor Suite.

Fourteen hours later, the ground tracking stations on Tuvir registered the lambent blue flash of a Jump drive engaging. The R-Alpha explorers were on their way back into the Rift, to reclaim victory from defeat....

EPILOGUE

The Sumag-Otebor Farmstead, Harkeir Region

"Ugly face! UGLY FACE!" Raengarrgh danced and skipped through the mud, kicking up big clods of it with glee as the rain sheeted down. He scooped up a clump of smelly mud in his hand and reared back, looking for an opportunity.

"You cannot insult my looks," Huiya'arl remarked mildly. "Why do you try?" He turned slowly in place, ignoring the warm rain as he kept both eyes and ears on Raengarrgh.

"HuuuYAH! Ugly face! UGLY FACE!" The Vargr pup persisted, scampering around Huiya'arl and trying to get behind him for a clear throw. "Fat belly! Dull claws! Slow-legs! COWARD!"

"That," Huiya'arl said darkly, "Is quite enough." With a low growl, he leaped upon his tormentor, who howled in panic and ducked aside. The two youths went down in a tumble of arms, legs and mud, Huiya'arl's roaring mixed liberally with Raengarrgh's shrieks of half-fear, half-joy. After a moment, Huiya'arl stood up, Raengarrgh dangling from his grip by the root of his bushy tail. Oblivious to the pup's yowls, he calmly walked over to the rainbarrel and began to methodically dunk Raengarrgh.

Three or four gurgling, coughing dunks later, Huiya'arl looked up at the sound of a soft footstep coming around the side of the farmhouse. Quickly releasing Raengarrgh into the barrel with a small splash, he leaped to the side and hunkered down in the mud, making a show of examining a thrown horseshoe.

"Huiya'arl," a deep voice called, "Where is your cousin?"

"I do not see him about, Father," the young Aslan replied, standing up quickly to bow to the huge Aslan male who had come around the corner of the farmhouse, one shoulder braced under the end of a long pole.

The pole came around the corner, revealing first the bucket of fresh mortar dangling at its center and then the gigantic Vargr holding up the other end. He paused and sniffed the air, then looked inquiringly at the rainbarrel. Raengarrgh, still coughing, was hauling himself out and whimpering piteously. "Fa! Fa! He put me in the BARREL, Fa! I could'a DROWNDED!"

Ukhogakh winced, and looked sternly at Huiya'arl. "Not AGAIN?" He sighed, and switched the pole to his other shoulder, reaching out to haul his pup from the barrel and set him down on the ground. "Ourlaliyh, you have GOT to do something about that boy of yours. One of these days he's gonna stick 'Garrgh too far down in that barrel, and THEN where'll we be?"

"I apologize most humbly, Uncle," Huiya'arl said contritely. "I was provoked into it. He called me a coward."

"He did WHAT?!" Ourlaliyh's roar was ear-shattering. He let the pole and bucket drop with a splash, and stamped over to where the tiny pup was cowering against the rainbarrel. He crouched down in the mud beside Raengarrgh. "'Garrgh," he said very softly, "How many times must you be put in the rainbarrel before you learn that making fun of a Fteirle's bravery or honor is NOT a suitable joke? When you get older, you could pay for your pranks with one of your ears-- or your life."

"I sorry, Unca Laliyh," Raengarrgh said, his eyes teary in the rain.

"Well, here is a small reminder," Ourlaliyh growled. He swept the pup into his arms and administered a lightning-fast bite on the ear, not enough to even break the skin. Raengarrgh screamed as if mortally wounded and ran crying, paradoxically, to Huiya'arl, who picked him up and hugged him, carrying him back to the house.

"Dry him off and put him to bed," Ukhogagh called after him, "Then get out here and help your Fa and me with the mortar. If the dams don't set before the rain gets any harder, we'll be wading in tsakha."

He reshouldered the pole with a grunt. "Your kakh son."

"And yours, my cousin...." Ourlaliyh picked up the other end of the pole, and the two men made their way out into the fields. The slow upward curve of the Horizon was obscured by the mist, and the mud underfoot made footing treacherous. Out of the rain, a mud-spattered figure wheeling a small barrow came trudging toward them, wings flapping in a vain attempt to keep the rain away.

"Huyah! Triyanth! How goes the dam-work?"

The Droyne Worker stopped the barrow and said slowly, "The joins are completed. They are held only by pins. We need your mortar, quickly."

"We're on our way," Ukhogagh said. "Can you manage doubletime, cousin?"

"If you can, I can," Ourlaliyh said with a yowl of laughter. Ukhogagh joined the laugh, and soon the two men were trotting down the muddy path at a respectable clip, the bucket swinging back and forth between them as they sang.

"Rain come down, huuuuuuyah! Rain come down, kaieeeealr!"

The dam across the edge of the paddies was nearing completion as they arrived, panting, at their destination. Ushimgiili looked up from the top rank and yelled, "It's about TIME! Where've you BEEN?"

"Rescuing Raengarrgh from the rainbarrel," Ukhogagh groaned, setting the pole down with a thump.

"Again," Ourlaliyh added, easing the pole off his shoulder. "At least the rain keeps the mortar fresh."

The bucket was instantly surrounded by a crowd of workers, scooping up the mortar and hauling it out to the dam. Ukhogagh and Ourlaliyh staggered away from the work area and collapsed on the ground in a heap, panting.

"Kakh rain," Ukhogagh grumbled. "Miserable."

"Work we must, cousin," Ourlaliyh shrugged. "No crops, and the Humans and Droyne will die. No fodder for the livestock, and you and I die. We should be grateful that this does not happen often."

"Once a lifetime is plenty," Ukhogagh muttered, shaking rain from his fur. He grew pensive. "Think it'll EVER stop?"

"Not so long as the Gate remains open above us," the Aslan sighed. "It cannot stay there forever; perhaps the worst is over."

"Harf! Things can always get worse, cousin," Ukhogagh said sourly.

As if to punctuate his statement, there was a sound of running feet from across the field, and a high, thin voice crying "FA! FA!"

Ukhogagh looked over his shoulder, then got up and held out his arms to Aegduesaets as she ran up to him, tail wagging furiously and tongue lolling out.

"Hey, pup-pup, why aren't you home asleep? I sent your brother in with Huiya'arl a while ago."

"Din' feew s'eepy ti'wed," the little girl said brightly. "Wen' up on 'Serv'try Hill wif Wokhtiyw, t'look't sky."

"What in the name of the Lost Clans was Wokhtiyw doing on Observatory Hill?" Ourlaliyh demanded. Aegduesaets looked up at him fearfully, and stuck one thumb firmly in her mouth, silent.

Ourlaliyh glared at her for a long moment, then sighed and scooped her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. "Ahya, little one, I did not mean to frighten you. But you KNOW the Hill is dangerous during a storm-- you could be struck by lightning!"

"WA'NT NOT no wite'ning," Aegduesaets said scornfully. "Was Dazz'w Ships!" She then stuck her thumb back in her mouth.

Ourlaliyh looked at her in shock, then up at her father. Ukhogagh's ears went back against his skull. "Are you SURE, sweetgrass?"

"Mmm-HM," Aegduesaets nodded around her thumb.

A splashing in the mud heralded the arrival of a slim young Aslan girl, almost of marrying age. She gave a little mew of relief when she saw Aegduesaets, then quickly bowed to the men. "Forgive me, Uncles," she said. "I went out to watch the storm, and she followed me. I was about to take her home when we saw the flash through a break in the clouds, and she bolted to find you...."

"Are you SURE it wasn't lightning, way up in the clouds?"

Wokhtiyw shook her head firmly. "No, Uncle. The color and intensity were all wrong. It had to be Dazzle Ships."

Ukhogagh looked at his friend. "Event Horizon?"

"Not before the Gate was gone, and they would have radioed us," Ourlaliyh scowled. He turned to the young girl. "Back to the houses to warn everyone, child. If there *are* Dazzle Ships up there, we must be ready for them."

"Yes, Uncle!" Wokhtiyw paused long enough to pick up the squirming Aegduesaets before pelting off into the rain.

Left alone once more, the two men looked at each other.

"What was that comment about things getting worse?" Ourlaliyh asked softly.

"Shut up," Ukhogagh snarled. He looked up at the flat grey sky, almost willing the clouds aside for a clear view of the Center.

"Dazzle Ships," he whispered.

END OF TURN 93.00

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