Last updated on 1/21/98
Aft Hull Breach - 06:13
"Well, that's the last of them," says Shrike picking up a damaged laser rifle, "Pater, Security channel. << Rigo, this is Shrike and Hfolraw, we've completed our sweep through enginering sections and we are at the aft hull breach. No live boarders found. We have a load of weapons and will be proceeding back to the Armoury. Any further orders? >>
Aft of main engineering, 'Vouf is clambering through the wreckage and out of the ship into the fighter bay, finally joining the action. The pod with Bishop in it has just arrived outside, where Ace is trying with a fair amount of luck to nudge the door toward the Elissa.
Following a little slower Vanessa arrives at the armoury in time catch the last of the conversation and see Rigo exit.
After setting down the equipment she was carrying she activates the comm she and calls Farouk. "Major. Since J.J. has taken over for Rigo what would you like me to do next?"
<< Elissa, Hamilcar. We are sending over a fuel shuttle with engineering team. ETA five minutes at the same airlock used by Captain Stubbs. Please inform our Captain that all Jump prep and fueling operations are nominal. Ajaxes One and Two are returning to hangar with all hostiles accounted for and only minor injuries to friendlies. Executive Faohileh sends her compliments. Hamilcar out. >>
Blaine looks over at Capt. Stubbs as the message ends. "Any reply, sir?"
Stubbs nods, thinking for a moment. "Thank you, Mr. Blaine. Please relay my thanks to Exec Faohileh, and tell her to have any hostile survivors sequestered at once. INTACT." He puts a frowning emphasis on the last word. "That'll do it, I think. Oh, and the Engineers needn't report to me when they arrive. From the moment they set foot here, they're Captain Bhyarrvouf's." He returns to the console.
There is more animated discussion about the arthropodesque creatures. The pieces of one of them get put into a couple of bags, Limner excitedly noting each gruesome detail. Of particular interest is the special space suit designed for a creature with 20+ limbs. The good doctors also take careful note of items that may be implants or technical devices attached to the suits or bodies.
"According to J.J., this one still had some kick left in it. Green goo in a primitive circulatory system, no obvious envenomation mechanism."
<< PATER, do you have any information on any of these species that are unrecognized by Morton and I? >>
<< _Negative, doctor Yorblin. >> answers PATER. << _These races appear to be uncataloged in Imperial sophont databases. I am also unable to locate any analogous uplifted or trained non-sentient lifeforms identified in the Uniform Biological Index. Perhaps captain Stubbs can offer some information on these new species... under less urgent circumstances._ >>
"Oh dear," says Hur'Shurvan as he surveys the list. "PATER, could you please calculate the most time-efficient distribution of these tasks among all the available qualified personnel. When help arrives from the Hamilcar, please adjust your calculations to accommodate them and inform us accordingly."
"I don't know whether I'll need a Valium or all the caffeine we've got in stock." sighs Angus. "Who wants to sacrifice themself and give Munro the glad news? She will be *most* unhappy."
_Very well, mister Hur'Shurvan._ replies PATER. There is a brief pause, followed by a re-prioritized list (or rather, the beginning of one) painted on the display.
_This is the most optimistic re-ordering of seventeen thousand four hundred and ten possible variations._ indicates PATER. _It assumes participation by doctor van der Merwe, mister Merkle, mister MacLaeran, mister Grey, Doejin, doctor Morser, and yourself._
"Thank you, PATER. Please would you forward this to Mr. Merkle."
_As you can see, the primary damage to the jump systems has occurred here._ An inset plan of deck 4 engineering appears in an upper quarter of the display, with a component outlined in red. PATER continues, _There appears to be a cascade failure in the port jump concentrator governor. Also, the dorsal quantum gravimetric lens assembly is no longer properly aligned..._
As PATER's damage litany continues, Morser moves in next to Shurv to survey the list.
_...The remainder of the damage is confined to secondary system failures on powerplant decks two and three._ advises PATER. _For the most part, these can be safely disregarded until a repair yard is available. However, the number four Helium purge circuit is showing severely sub-nominal integrity and I predict a 64% likeli- hood of failure during the power spike which normally occurs at jump transition. That circuit should either be taken off line or repaired prior to jump._
_The remaining damage sites are as follows..._
Morser points past Shurv at the display, and speaks over PATER's continued damage dissertation, "I sink mahybe I vill take herr doktor van der Merve unt ve vill tackle zis part of ze chump governor. If you can direct ze ozzairs unt coohrdinate ze verk on ze tokamak purge, ve haff zis tub runnink again in no time, yah?"
Hur'Shurvan pauses for a moment, trying to convert Morser's words into Galanglic. When he believes he has worked it out, he nods his huge head in agreement. "Let us begin immediately."
He turns slowly and carefully, partly to avoid aggravating his wound and partly to ensure that he does not swipe an innocent bystander with his tail, and heads directly for the nearest suitable tool kit.
Morser grabs his toolkit and hollers at van der Merwe, "Christian!! Kome mit me! Ve're goink to take apart a chump drive!"
In the middle of his clean-up efforts, Christian looks up to see the perpetually rumpled scientist in mid grab. "Ach so?" he mimics, setting down a chunk of debris. He dusts his hands off as his long stride quickly takes him in Morser's direction. "Why the hell not operate on a jump drive -- at least its not an autopsy... Ready when you are, mein friend..."
Goughzar stands up, watching Ace maneuver the bay door closer to the work pod. "Kharrbyegh, notify me when Ace has released the bay door". Walking around the small cockpit and back into the galley for a quick cup of coffee - very strong.
Thoughts formed, broke apart, and coalesced again as Akhouw weighed his options. << Honored warrior, my thanks are yours. I desire to have this prisoner before my own self as blood-debt owed to us for our loss. May you arrange this without delay? >>
The grin widens. << Without delay, Lord. I shall convey your wishes most strongly to Executive Officer Faohileh upon our arrival. It pleases me that you give such serious regard to this matter; it speaks well for you. I shall enjoy our meeting at Centerpoint immensely, I think. Until then, go with honor, and Farewell! >>
The message terminates.
A moment later, Aiwi cocks an ear to another incoming message, which she relays without first asking for approval. It becomes obvious as to why, when Akhouw hears the voice of his Captain, distorted somewhat by the confines of a helmet.
<< Siaenrra, maintain stationkeeping until the last of the fuel shuttles are away, then return to dock at once. Do NOT, I repeat, NOT remain aboard the Khtaliyr during the Jump-- it's near a bad section of the Grid, and i can't have both my execs Jumpsick when we arrive. I want both of you on the Bridge. You in the Captain's Chair and your Crew Chief learning how to navigate a Jump in this hole. >>
Looking over their shoulders, Munro and Aolrkhea' see the Captain hop through the wreckage and join them in the bay. The front of his suit is caked with dried blood, but he moves and talks with cool assurance. He is hauling not only the laser welder Bishop handed him, but also a large plastic case slung over his shoulder. He is stooped under its weight and dragging it along behind him.
<< Keyaho, ladies, >> he says jauntily, tail wagging. << Quite a view, eh-hrf? Sorry I'm late, but I appear to be a very popular pup these days. Harf! >>
He pauses to look out of the open bay, into the endless expanse of glowing white. << Ouma, >> he whispers. << Now I've seen everything. >>
He turns to the others.
<< Doctor Khea', you'll be in good hands with Mr. haut-Frieder... he and Mr. Jonson will be here any moment with the materials and expertise you'll need to complete the door assembly. In the meantime, Mr. Munro, you and I have another job to do. Coming? >>
He steps to the edge of the bay, activates his gravbelt, and steps off into nothingness.
Aaron and Thul repeat Aolrkhea's long trek down to stores in Bay Three, and return with a grav pallet lugging eight large sealed boxes: two sets of clamps for the doors, with binary explosive charges ready to mix and arm.
Munro stares after 'Vouf for a moment, looks around at the crew assembling, at Ace maneuvering, and then gives herself a small shake. This is why I *don't* like being in charge. Sighing slightly, she gives a small wave to the crew, activates her gravbelt and starts after 'Vouf.
<< Coming, oh, captain, my captain. Time for an invigorating session of grid crawling. >>
<< Mister Munro, you disappoint me, >> 'Vouf chuckles. << I thought you LIKED grid-crawling. Tsk! >>
'Vouf, hauling the grid-jumper kit behind him, scoots out and up, getting clear of the fighter bay and awaiting Munro. He switches to an unused talk-channel, patching PATER's comms monitoring into the background. As Munro glides up beside him, she sees him staring at the twisted scrap of what used to be the shuttle bay, scoured clean by a lucky missile hit. The Kingfisher, the command shuttle where he'd teleported into the middle of a hostage situation and seen the Solomani strafe the ringworld, is a melted pile of slag.
His voice is tightly controlled. << Hopeless. We can string a couple of cables across it to contain the field bulge, but there's no way we can patch this one. We're going to have to compensate for it on the sprint. >> He sighs. << I hope there's nothing worse than that. >>
He glides up toward the dorsal surface of the Elissa.
Bent over the nav console, Stubbs pauses to wipe his forehead with a sleeve. "I could use some help," he admits. "Mister Nanadh? Are you the ship's main Navigator?"
"Nope", Ger pauses, "I'm the backup navigator. I think that Nishu is the real navigator, or is that Aiwi, Pater?? No it must be Aiwi... She's not here right now."
_Technically, sir, Mister Neriika is the Ship's Navigator,_ PATER adds. _But as Mister Neriika is currently in surgery following his injury, and Crew Chief Aiwiheikahaih is aboard the Khtaliyr, you are the ranking Navigator. Crew Chief Aiwiheikahaih will not be available to perform Navigation duties until the Khtaliyr redocks with the Elissa._
"Wonderful," Stubbs groans. "Mister Nanadh, it looks like you're it, until this Aiwihecka...hecka....whoever, gets back. Are you rated Advanced-level?"
The workpod rounds the starboard outrigger and Bishop kills the forward motion just a few meters from the edge of the gaping fighter bay. 'Vouf and Munro slowly drift up and out of his field of view as they begin to hunt for (and patch) breaks in the jumpgrid.
Standing inside the bay, Aolrkhea waits with a welder in hand, as haut-Frieder and Jonson trundle into view, walking on either side of a grav-pallet laden with a set of nasty-looking articulated cylinders, their sides emblazoned with screaming-yellow, diamond- shaped, "DANGER: EXPLOSIVE DEVICE" labels.
<< Etienne, this is Bishop. >> Bishop burps the maneuver thrusters on the workpod to rotate it towards the approaching fighter. << Keep your deceleration constant. Disengage your grapples when you reach fifty meters from the hull. That should give me about... uh... twelve centimeters per second to deal with. >>
<< Whatever you say Bishop. 90...80...70...60... she's all yours! >> A slight shudder accompanies the release of the heavy door, as Etienne slows Ace with minimal bursts from his maneuvering thrusters. As soon as the door is clear, Ace slowly moves away, heading for the cargo bay and her temporary home.
<< Like my old drive-chief in the Bokhutokh taught me, kae, these many years ago....the Grid IS the Drive. Everything else is just sauce for the bones. >> He chuckles. << Last time I quoted him was when we took the Alcyon out of port at Tuvir. That was less than four months ago....it seems like a lifetime. >> He shakes his head. << Stupid ol' wolf. Back to work! >>
The pair of gravbelted figures soar gracefully over the stern of the Elissa toward the dorsal mount points, 'Vouf providing a running commentary as he goes.
<< I count three hits on the dorsal turrets. None of the mount points seem damaged, but there'll be hairline cracks to solder and a couple of jumps. We'll come back here after we do the tough stuff. >>
A quick glance to port and some continuity readings quickly confirm that the port side of the Elissa's grid is largely unhurt by the recent battle. The two figures pause to wave at the crew of a fuel tender attaching a hose to the port outrigger, then scoot back to starboard.
Keeping the pair of light duty arms fully retracted, Bishop extends the heavy duty pair in anticipation of the looming hangar bay door.
*CL-CLANG!*
Both robotic grips clamp down on the edge of the door and the arms rotate immediately in their mounts, as Bishop compensates for the mass. Using the bulk of the huge door, Bishop swings the pod against its momentum, and engages the main gravitics at full power. Immediately, the heavy gravity drive plates glow blue, as the workpod matches twenty tons of thrust against a one hundred ton payload.
Slower, slower, almost stopped...
*KRR-KRR-KRR-THOOOOMMMM!!*
One, two, three, four corners of the massive hullmetal section make contact with the bay door tracks at a fraction of a millimeter per second. Immediately, the workpod's grips release and the pod scoots straight back, pirouetting to face the door directly from the outer surface. Moving forward, the arms extended directly ahead this time, Bishop directs Discovery-1 against the door.
*CLANK!*
The pod comes to a dead stop, both heavy arms braced against the retrieved door.
<< Thul, Aaron, this is Bishop. >> He radios. << The door is in position and braced. Let me know when the clamps are in place, so I can let go. >>
<< Oh, tsakha, >> 'Vouf groans as he sees the scars of ruined hardpoints all over the outrigger. << How many hits do you count? I count, hrrrr, ten, I think. >>
Munro looks around and off to the side.<< That's all I can see from this angle. Wait...no...oh, plant scram! I'm counting at least eleven. What a mess. >> Munro shakes her head, her voice both sounding angry and frustrated.
<< Kakh! Make that twelve, >> 'Vouf winces. << Not a single hardpoint left on the whole thing. >>
Forward of the outrigger is the gaping hole in Cargo Bay Two where the boarding craft battered its way in with fusion gunnery fire. 'Vouf just shakes his head; another hole too big to patch, and in a dangerous part of the ship-- way too close to inhabited areas.
The inspection continues. The belly of the Elissa is unharmed, but the stern is a crushed ruin, with another dozen smashed turrets and torn sections of grid. Twenty-nine major breaks in all, two of which are irreparable outside of drydock, and the other twenty-seven of which SHOULD be fixed in drydock as well. But those breaks are the difference between a dangerous Jump and no Jump at all....
'Vouf and Munro set to work grimly. The patching of bad Grids for emergency Jumps is the stuff of which legends are made; continuities are checked on the microscopic level, routings and reroutings patch current from the zuchai crystals to unreachable sectors. Lanthanum enriched solder is used to fill hairline cracks, and cabling is strung over broken sections to fill larger gaps. When all this is done, the Jump must then be watched with an artist's eye and coaxed along, the normal charging sequence no longer an easy option. To attempt such a repair at all on a ship as badly damaged as the Elissa requires incredible skill and not a little insanity. Fortunately, Yolanda Munro has plenty of the former, and Bhyarrvouf has plenty of the latter.
Munro mutters, << Gods, hope we've got enough equipment to patch all this. Who ever this Stamerra guy is, he knew how to hit us. Right now, I'd really like to get his nuts in a vise....Erh, sorry Captain. >>
<< Hrf. >> 'Vouf chuckles. << You and me both, Chief. But we hurt him pretty badly anyway. He won't forget he tangled with US any time soon! >> He nods grimly.
Sitting back down in the cockpit, Paladin's computer announces _Ace has release fighter bay door._
Touching the comm pad to open up the channels to the repair crew and intership. "Bay Door Number 2 ready for delivery", Goughzar says with a dragged out sound in his voice. Touching the comm pad to shut down the channels, Goughzar pauses to look into the open space and the wire, "Kharrbyegh, open a channel through to Pater and Bhyarrvouf."
"Gzourkegh Sirro, Gzoukighuek. Permission to use amphetamines from local stores requested."
'Vouf's answer is uncharacteristically harsh.
<< YaUur! Nobody flies hardware near MY ship on howlers, pup. If you're too tired to fly point any more, you get your sorry tail on the deck or by Ouma I'll pin your ears back for y-- >>
There is a pause, then a weary sigh. << Apologies, Zar. I have a....problem with people working while drugged. You've done stellar work today... dock and power down for a rest. I'll make it an order if I must, rrobyegh. Captain out. >>
"Fe Sirro, I understand completely. That's why I was asking permission. Pater, please doublecheck my calcs for dropping the bay door as it goes. As soon as the load is released, I'm back to dock Sirro."
<< Guezdhe, Zar. Well done. >>
Aolrkhea' efficiently preps the surfaces for welding. Without looking up, she requests << Clamps >> as if she were in surgery.
<< Clamps, aye, >> Aaron says coolly, hefting one of the heavy implements off the pallet and sliding it out into zero gee. He quickly assists 'Khea in bolting the clamp into position, then aids her in attaching the other. He positions himself at the top clamp, looks down at 'Khea, and says, << Together on the count of three, ma'am. One...two...THREE. >> He gently but firmly pushes down on the clamp, swinging it shut and locking the door into place. Aaron then finishes the job by bolting down the Jumpgrid attachment cable to the new clamp, reconnecting the door to the Grid.
<< Clear, Adrian, >> Aaron calls, waving Bishop away. << Get the next one from the Paladin. >> He looks over his shoulder at Jonson. << Arm the first pair of clamps, Thul. >>
<< Roger that, Aaron. >> Bishop replies. << On my way. >>
The landing takes several minutes, as the fighter squeezes into the mostly-empty bay and finds a clear spot to land and clamp down near the work pod bays. But soon after that, the engines run down with a sigh, and Etienne is running shutdown sequences without the aid of the monitoring machinery in the fighter bay.
"Hoy, maybe t'is a stroke of luck," Chiifraa muses. "Pyaarvoof, t'at sound like Var'kr name! Var'kr, t'ey ferry relax! Know how to haf FUN! Maype t'is kuy Pyaarvoof he a nice kuy, like haf a goot time, ee?" His expression brightens. "Maype we ALL haf fun in new chob!"
"We can always hope," Bex sighs, rolling his eyes. He brightens a bit. "Hey, and no more Fao the Cow leaning over us with blood in her eyes! What are the odds the new Exec'll be anywhere NEAR as anal as SHE was? There couldn't be more than one Faohileh in the whole FLEET!"
FixesThings sighs as well, but says nothing.
"Who's supposed to meet us?" Bex asks.
"Elissa Engineer, most like," FixesThings replies, looking at the mangled starship looming in the viewport. "Don't know." He sighs at the sight before him. "Is a mess. Lots to be done."
"Huh," Bex muses, examining the damage. "She looks like somebody tried to put her through a shidgy-chiffry. Sideways."
"Siijiihchifri'," Chiifraa corrects him with a giggle. "You accent pretty pad, Pex, Pest stick wit' Kalanklik."
"Look who's talking, you scrabbling scallop skinning sk....sc...." Bex flounders for a moment. "Skeeveball," he finally finishes.
Chiifraa splutters, "What means 'Skeevepall'?"
"Ball of skeeve," Bex says smugly.
"'Skeeve'? What pe 'skeeve'?! Pe no such word!"
"Is too!"
"Pe not!"
"Is!"
"Not!"
"Silence," FixesThings growls.
There is a long pause. Finally Bex speaks. "So, uh, how DID you get her morning caff into a whacker-wrapper, anyway?"
Chiifraa looks sidelong at Bex, not moving or speaking. Bex grins at him. Chiifraa starts to giggle uncontrollably, Bex joining him. They are still laughing when the airlocks mate and they make the transfer into the Elissa.
<< Acknowledged, Captain. Khtaliyr will continue on refuelling overwatch until completion. >> Akhouw's throaty grin carries over to his voice. << I do look forward to that challenge, sir. Until then... go with honor. >>
He turns to Aiwi. "Current status of Elissa refueling and estimated completion time?" he queries.
Trying to brush more wrinkles from his vacc suit, Merkle looks up as Edmondsen arrives.
"Hi. How are things forward of engineering?"
"Hello. The Bridge got shot up by a teleporter with a gatling laser, but apart from that we confined the damage to Engineering and a couple of the cargo bays. Mind you, that's more than enough."
Boris shakes his head, "I'm not looking forward to the clean up. Engineering is pretty messy, and the whole damned ship is gonna smell down right rank when we get pumped up again."
PATER interrupts the conversation. _Airlock cycling now. Two life forms in vac suits, each with one large carrying container. I read multiple power sources and heat sources._
"I assume you'll want to check these folk out as soon as you see the whites of their eyes." Cracking a quick grin, "Sooner would be *my* preference."
"*I* would prefer a backup STOMP unit. These guys are supposed to be friendly, though, so what the hell. Still... PATER, keep an eye on things here and sound the alert if anything untowards happens here."
_Securecams and threat detection systems on line, Mister Edmondsen._
The airlock cycles, and the door irises open with a snap.
The first thing Merkle notices as the lock opens is a new wall, one nearly twice his height. It takes a blink or two to note that the wall has limbs and a head, and is breathing. Stooping to get through the lock, the vac-suited figure straightens up almost to a full height easily topping three meters, its head just touching the ceiling. It reaches up and removes its helmet, revealing a short, blunt muzzle like a bear's covered in cinnamon-brown fur, short rounded ears, and coal-black eyes that glitter in the light. It snuffles the air briefly, nose wrinkling, then looks down at Merkle.
Rigo suddenly gets the irrational feeling that his armour is made of tin foil. He resolutely suppress a shudder. Boris' eyes widen briefly as the form wrinkles it's nose, unconsciously comparing the creature's teeth with his favourite utility knife.
As it opens its muzzle to speak, a quadrupedal figure in a vac-suit scampers forward between its legs, skids to a stop just before bowling Merkle over, and sits up on its haunches to remove its helmet. The head thus revealed is that of a mustelid of some sort, an otter or weasel, with deep brown, almost black fur, expressive brown eyes, and a soft, leathery nose with twitching whiskers. It leans forward and sniffs at Merkle's face with obvious interest, then does the same to Edmondsen. It never stops moving for a moment, and seems utterly fearless of the two men.
Out of the large ursine's helmet crawls a tiny creature, no more than forty centimeters long, most of which is a large, fluffy tail. It skitters up the hand and arm holding the helmet, across the shoulder, and up onto the ursine's head, where it crouches, regarding Merkle and Edmondsen with suspicion. All they can see is that it looks rather like a squirrel or tree-rat of some sort, brown with white markings.
"Hoy," the mustelid says in a breathy chitter that reeks of fish, "Pe you t'a Chiif Ench'nir? We your new Chump Kank!" It sits back on its haunches, cocking a thumb at its own chest in a very human gesture of arrogance. "I pe Chiifraa-- pest 'lectronic enchineer on t'a Hamilcar! Put heem t'ere!" It thrusts out a hand (paw?) for Edmondsen to shake.
Rigo extends his right hand. "Pleased to meet you," he says. "I'm Rigo Edmondsen, Chie... eh.. security guard, I mean."
Chiifraa chitters something that could (?) be a laugh as he pumps Rigo's hand furiously. "P'eeze ta' meetcha, Riko! Sek'ur'ty kart? T'ey no trust us, ee? Pfui-- we chust ench'nirs-- t'a PEST!"
"Pest is right," a tiny voice mutters. The tiny rodent looks down at Merkle with glittering dark eyes. "I'm Bexleyheath Tube Station Pop Vending Machine," it squeaks. "Call me Bex." It points at the huge head it's sitting on. "I'm with HIM."
The ursine growls in a basso rumble. "He Who Fixes Things," it says as if pronouncing a death sentence, glaring at Merkle, then at Edmondsen.
"Easy enough to remember, honest," the squirrel squeaks. "Fraa, Bex, and FixesThings." It punctuates this by pointing three different ways, than claps its tiny forepaws together and rubs them gleefully. "So--where do we sleep?"
"What's for to eat?" Fraa looks hopeful.
"Haaaa-ROOMPH!" The ursine reaches up and gently removes the squirrel from its head, and lays a three-fingered paw the size of a pizza plate on the mustelid's head. It looks solemnly at Edmondsen, then at Merkle.
"Is needed to begin at once. My friends forget this, seems." It smiles easily. "How and where to start work?"
"Pfui," Fraa mutters.
Barely able to contain himself, Boris turns to Rigo and flashing a surreptitious grin, gestures him to take the lead.
"I've been ordered to do a security check on you, gentlebeings. No offense intended. Would you please hang up your vacc suits over there and let me have a look at those two satchels?"
"What?!" Fraa's hackles fluff out alarmingly. "What for you to t'is t'ing? T'is MY kit!" He hugs the smaller satchel to him protectively.
"Security," FixesThings says easily, stripping off his vac suit and setting the larger satchel, nearly the size of a man, near Rigo. He glares at Fraa. "Cooperate," he says sternly. "No fear here." Fraa huffs a couple of times but divests himself of the suit, handing the satchel to Rigo with an annoyed chitter.
_Please stand by, mister Goughzar._ PATER replies, then continues without pause, _Verification complete. _Decoupling computations are correct. You may disconnect... now._
Kaa-*THUNGGG*.
The magnetic feet on Paladin de-power and the 100 ton bay door floats free. As the Paladin carefully backs away from the huge sheet of hull- metal, another call comes from PATER.
_Disconnect is nominal, mister Goughzar._ PATER advises. _The fighter bay door is at zero point zero momentum in three axes. The dorsal docking ring is standing by to receive you._
"Thank you Pater, is the dorsal docking ring far enough away from jump grid anomalies to avoid jump sickness? If it's not, then could you point me to a place to drop my carcass for a nap?"
_Please return to rider mount number four, mister Goughzar._ comes the immediate reply. _There is no adjacent grid damage and grid connections for subcraft are still intact. You should be able to remain aboard the Paladin and relax during jump transit without suffering any undue effects._
Goughzar touches the controls to gently, and slowly, spin the Paladin about and move to moor her at the specified docking port.
"Refueling appears to be proceeding normally," Aiwi says, coolly surveying the uplinks to the Elissa's status boards. "Estimate completion of fueling process by 0640."
Thul checks a checklist as his hands make connections and throw toggles. A trained observer would note that he has probably done this a few times already.
<< ARMED! >>
*Ting* *Ting*
Both sets of robotic claws gently open and release the now restored fighter bay door. A quick look over his shoulder confirms to Bishop that the other bay door is still hanging motionless where the Paladin released it five minutes earlier.
Two quick bursts of the RCS thrusters spin pivot the workpod. Then the main gravitics engage and the pod moves towards the remaining door.
As the pod makes closure on the huge section of hullmetal, it under- takes a complex, three-axis pivot that seems to articulate the entire workpod around a single rigid (left) robotic claw. The first claw gently drifts forward and clamps down on the edge of the fighter bay door.
*CLANG!!*
Instantly the pod pivots again to give the second (right) claw purchase.
*C-CLANG!!*
<< OK, I've got introduced point zero zero eight meters per second drift. >> comments Bishop almost absently. << Pivoting into the stern... now. >>
Again, the heavy gravitics on the workpod glow blue as they strain to to overcome the one hundred tons of inertia. Slowly the huge door turns edge-on to the Elissa stern and then begins to creep towards the ship. As the remaining distance drops to half, the workpod again pivots around its arms and begins to thrust away from the Elissa, decelerating its massive payload.
<< Calling off the target... >> narrates Bishop. << Forty meters... thirty... twenty... fifteen... ten... five... >> Another burst of thrust, << four... three... two... one... contact. >>
*KRR-THOOOOMMMM!!*
The two leading corners of the door ponderously connect to the open edge of the fighter bay.
<< Aaron, Thul, please watch that leading edge for slippage. >> Bishop's voice crackles in the engineers helmet speakers. << I'm about to pivot the door into position. >>
Another pirouette by the workpod starts the monstrous metal plate tilting into the fighter bay. As the gap closes, one robot arm grip releases the door edge and moves to apply pressure to the outer face of the door. Just as the moving edge of the door makes contact with the bay frame, the other arm slips smoothly away to keep the claw from being crushed.
*CLAAAANG!!*
The second grip moves in next to the first and applies pressure. Bishop nudges the pod gravitics to stationkeep and reports, << Bishop to engineering team. The door is in position and braced. You can begin restoring the clamps. >>
Edmondsen checks out the two satchels with care. The big one contains a mess of tools and supplies obviously designed for their own hands, as well as a set of easily identifiable weapons: two handguns that are apparently based on the TL 8-10 model. One is about the same size as a Gauss pistol, with a side-fed magazine and a very small handgrip. The other is too large for a human hand to hold, and has a barrel so wide Rigo could easily fit a thumb and two fingers into it. There is also a set of long claws that look like they strap on like gloves, and something that looks like a pinky-ring with a sharp blade, about eight cm long, attached to it. The other bag has a sloppy pile of clothes and uniforms, bottles of sweet-smelling cosmetics, and personal effects, all mixed together with no regard for ownership.
"You'll have to leave the guns here in this box. I'll lock it and give you the key, and you can reclaim it when you leave us. The rest you can keep, but I suggest you put everything you won't need for work in one satchel and leave it with me. I'll find out where you'll be quartered and lug it down there for you. Right now they need you rather urgently down in Engineering."
"T'anks," Fraa chitters. "Hateful t'inks, kuns. No like use 'em."
"Careful with boom tube," FixesThings indicates softly.
While the three new chums sort themselves out Rigo checks the vacc suits for hidden weapons. The suits are standard TL15 tailored designs, intended to be worn as clothing in most cases. They have several pockets full of small instruments and tools, but there are no explosives or obvious weapons besides a couple of utility knives, one a bit small for human hands to use, the other big enough to qualify as a small sword. The image of a Swiss Army knife with a thirty-cm blade is unforgettable.
"You'd better put them back on," Rigo remarks as he hands the suits back. "Most of your work area is still in vacuum."
"Not to mention that Fraa looks like an idiot in his skivvies," Bex chortles. Fraa glares at him, muttering imprecations as he dresses once more.
Rigo locks the box and hands the key to FixesThings. The big ursine fumbles with the tiny plastic card for a moment in his huge fingers. Bex scampers down his sleeve to his hand, seizes the key, carries it partway up his arm to a tiny slit pocket, and seals it in. Boris and Rigo suddenly see that the huge ursine's suit is littered with pockets of two different sizes: huge ones suitable for his massive paws, and tiny ones better suited to Bex.
Once Rigo has cleared the three newcomers, Boris summons the best face possible and then says, "Welcome to the Elissa. I am Engineer Boris Merkle. We have little time to stand and chat. Please follow me. Touch nothing until we reach Engineering, where most of the work is required. As we are walking, could you please describe briefly where your skills lie?"
Boris gestures for his guests to follow, and heads toward the main tube, and the descending grav-lift.
Finally, arriving in the Drive area the doctors encounter their first "Fear Bear" [opposite of a `Care Bear'??]. Both doctors pause and just stare for a time. Limner finally looks from the body to the bag he is carrying. "No way in D`ushelve these'll fit...." He unslings the Sprayseal and preps it as they examine the corpse.
"Yep, awfully big critter." Again Jan exams the corpse for obvious natural weapons, gathers basic chemistry data from the freeze dried body fluids, and takes measurements while Morton readys the Sprayseal.
"Once this is done, let's head back to sickbay, and look at these things without so much vacuum."
"Morton, I'm going to leave that to you, I reckon one of us should be getting ready for the next wave. Either we're going to be jumping shortly or we'll be meeting the 'bad guys' again. In either case, I'd like to make sure the work spaces are ready to go again."
Limner finishes preping the device, adjusts a couple of knobs, and grasps the wand by its handle. With a practiced, almost nonchalant wave he deposits three .5 meter sheets, 3.5 meters long, on the deck parallel to the corpse. Even in the vacuum the edges of the sheets melt into each other. Then, with Lucan's help, they carefully roll the creature onto the sheet, and Limner repeats the process, adding a self-stick pressure valve before the sheets are fully set. Then they repeat on the remaining large bodies.
With Lucan's further assistance they move the bodies onto an available grav pallet. Soon, Lucan is guiding the pallet back to the low passage area, which has been designated as a temporary morgue.
Morton and Jan follow at a leisurely pace, examining the areas where the bodies where found. Looking for things that might have been missed while the bodies were present, Limner again recorders everything. As they return they exchange brief comments about the three new species they have encountered. Morton follows Lucan into the low passage area, while Jan turns back into the sickbay to prepare the spaces for jump.
Partway through one of the easier reroutings, 'Vouf suddenly asks, << Yolanda? >>
<< Yo...? >> Munro bends over a break, suited hands working steady and while they don't blur with speed, they move with efficient motion.
<< How...how bad WAS it in Engineering? Did anyone crack, was there any sign of distress on the part of any crew at any time? >>
Munro slows a little in her work, then continues at her previous speed. << Jonson was the typical soldier type. Quiet, taciturn and did what he was suppose to. Aolrkhea' was calm and efficient. Aaron was like the solid wall he portrays. Doejin was even the solid engineer you'ed expect. At least, until something hit him and Aaron. I still need to find out what happened there. >>
'Vouf nearly severs his thumb with his laser. He looks up at Munro sharply, and is about to say something, but then closes his mouth.
Munro's tone changes to disgust with a hint of determination. << As to me, I was scared. Period. I guess I'm just not cut out for this type of action. Maybe my father was right. I should have found some nice safe dirtside dockyard to work at. At least then, the only emergencies that happen are kinds I know how to deal with. >>
<< Aeggra, >> is 'Vouf's only rejoinder.
Munro's voice lightens to a bantering tone. She sits up, grins and waves a tool like a sword. << Avast, ye dirty scum. I can conquer a failing jump drive or a broken grid any day. >> Her voice lowers and she goes back to work. << Do you know that I don't even know how to handle a weapon? Oh, I've got a handgun that I know how to aim, fire and clean. Not any good against armor or hitting a target. If we'd met a nasty, the best I could have done is hit it with a spanner. Real helpful, huh. >>
'Vouf pauses in his work to give Munro a long look. << Not being a killer is not something to be ashamed of, Yolanda. I've lived with death for most of my life, and I've gotten very good at dishing it out. That doesn't make me a better Vargr. I'd rather patch grids any day. >>
Munro shakes her head slightly. << I don't want to be a killer, but I'd better learn how to handle the encounters with them. Either that or take a job elsewhere. >> Looking up, she sees 'Vouf looking at her. Grinning slightly, she continues. << Don't worry, as long as I can be helpful to you and the Elissa, I'm not going anywhere. >> Sighing slightly, she shifts her weight, apparently uncomfortable. << Speaking about being helpful, this crew, me included, are seriously deficient in zero-g skill. Got to remedy that as soon as we've got some free time. >> She gives a snort of laughter.
'Vouf chuckles. << Add it to the list of things we should have been better at.... >>
Munro continues in a small voice. << How bad was it on the bridge? I noticed the blood on your suit...And heard about Dan. >>
<< It was.... >> 'Vouf pauses slightly. << ...ugly. Dan never had a chance; that khebreth shot his spine out of his body before he even knew we were under attack. It was all over so fast... and when I shot him.... >> He winces and ducks his head. << Ouma, my head hurts. When we get out of this I'm gonna sleep for a WEEK. Felt like being dipped in molten glass. >>
<< Sleeping for a week sounds good to me. You going to be in engineering or on the bridge for the jump? With the two of us there, the Elissa stands the best chance of surviving this nightmare. >>
'Vouf snorts. << Where do you think I'm going to be, you silly bitch? On the Bridge, I'm as useful as balls on a Hiver; Akhouw will be OOD, with Aiwi at the Nav and Ger at the Helm. No, you and I are going to be on the Main Board on the Jump Deck... learning to waltz together. >>
He grins. << That's what we called it where I come from. The 'waltz'. We're going to hand-charge the Grid with PATER's help. She won't take a charge any other way, I don't think. But I'm really not worried. I'm beginning to think this bucket can survive just about anything. Just like her crew. >>
Munro stares at 'Vouf a moment, then nods her head. << I agree. Helps to have two of the universe's best engineer dancers on board, no? >>
'Vouf shakes his head, chuckle-barking. << 'Waltzers', Mister Munro. The term is 'waltzers'. When I ask someone to dance, what I mean is-- >> There is a blur of motion, and a multibarreled pistol is suddenly in 'Vouf's hand. Holstering it, he adds, << And the 'mambo' is something else entirely. It's an Antarean Human term, for...uhm... well.... >> He looks over his shoulder. << Keyaho! The fuel ships appear to be finishing up. Let's get this job done with, okay? >> He returns to work, hastily.
By 06:40, when the last of the fuel shuttles breaks contact, the two Engineers, tired and sore, are making their way back toward the nearest airlock, to begin the next phase of the Jump.
When she reaches engineering section, the captain is not there and neither is Yolanda Munro. Alliara smiles at the ceiling. An opportunity here, no? Maybe that experimenters excuse for a sophont will not return soon and I could have a squint at the young entry.
Plomping the 'corders down and stating into the air that "Alliara Niigurd, Contact Section, by the authority of the Captain, hereby orders the lot of you to wear these when and if in contact with indigenous lifeforms!" Alliara runs back to the Sensor Pit.
Reaching it, she grabs the carrybag with her equipment and starts resnapping everything on: video, audio, text transcriber. Psi-shields! Psi-shields! Where do they keep the bloody psi-shields. Can't let 'em hear my thoughts about their language - contamination of data. Cummmon! "Putter! Where did they store the psi-shields and how long will it take to get one? Come on, fast. I am off to mee the young entry."
The next fifteen minutes pass quickly for the Khtaliyr, as shuttles float back and forth between the two ships, dragging umbilicals. Once, a shuttle bearing the new Engineers docks briefly at the forward dorsal airlock, but PATER does not report anything suspicious about the maneuver.
At 06:40, the shuttles detach en masse and return to the Hamilcar, which ponderously turns on its axis until its stern is facing the Elissa. The comms of both the Elissa and the Khtaliyr receive a voice message, in a deep, throaty female voice with a telltale hint of an Aslan purr.
<< Elissa, Khtaliyr. This is the Hamilcar, Executive Officer Faohileh at the conn. All shuttles report fueling operations successfully completed. We are opening range to remove our mass from your local space manifold and preparing to Jump. We will follow once your Jump has been executed. Our compliments to Captains Bhyarrvouf and Stubbs. Honor go with thee...and good luck. Hamilcar out. >>
<< Khtaliyr acknowledges, >> Aiwi says curtly, switching the comms to Blaine's channel. << Elissa, Khtaliyr is preparing to return to docking port. Stand ready. >> She switches off the coms and favors Akhouw with a quizzical look. "A female at the conn," she says softly. "How totally barbaric." She shrugs daintily. "Perhaps she regards Captain Stubbs as Commander in absentia...."
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