Copyright © 1997, 1998
Last updated on 1/21/98
Bridge - 06:54
Zben, always a student of people, watches the interesting `dance' between the Elissa's crew and the stranger, Captian Stubbs. He is impressed that Stubbs is not trying to flex his rank, but rather seems interested in fitting in. With one eye on the incoming data stream, and another on the Bridge, he sits up a bit straighter as Akhouw turns to him;
Akhouw leans back and whispers penetratingly at Zben. "Mister Blaine, please inquire of the Crew Chief her ETA to the Bridge."
Quietly Zben says "Aye, Sir." and swings to his board as Akhouw addresses PATER.
Opening a trace channel he locates Aiwi's last position, and he routes a call thru the Khtaliyr, then to Aiwi's hand com. Using his helmet mike he sends << Commo to Crew Chief Aiwi: Commander Akhouw desires your ETA Bridge. >> Over his headset he receives a prompt reply.
<< Inform the Commander that Khtaliyr is now in warm idle mode. I am enroute; ETA three minutes. Crew Chief out. >>
Turning slightly in his seat he catches Akhouw's attention just as the Commander is finishing his request for info to PATER. When Akhouw returns his attention Zben speaks for him alone "Sir. ETA three minutes. Addition report: Khtaliyr in warm idle mode."
As he swings back to the commo board a sudden feeling of deja-vu washes over him. Zben suddenly remembers another time, with Aiwi rushing to the Bridge. Anyone glancing his way cannot really understand the momentary grin that claims his face, but those who know him are happy to see it.
A thought occurs to Akhouw as he turns back to face the helm. << PATER, analyze current weapons capability of this ship and field of fire deficiencies. Display on main holo. >>
_Acknowledge, Admiral._ replies PATER. A 3-D schematic of the Elissa appears on the bridge tactical display, with large sections of the hull painted in red.
_All missile and sandcaster turrets on the dorsal surface of both fuel outriggers have been rendered non-functional. The same is also true for all stern turrets and all turrets on the outer surface of the starboard fuel outrigger. The ships overall defensive capabilities are functioning at fifty-two percent capacity and the defensive subsystems can no longer bring weapons to bear in an eighty-seven degree cone around the aft starboard quarter of the ship, centered on bearing one-sixty-one mark thirty-three._
Akhouw greets the unwelcome but expected news with a low growl. Not much could be done without the services of a shipyard. Most unfortunate.
<< PATER, query sensor systems and analyze. Display in split-holo any coincidence between defensive and sensor deficiency. >>
_Overlap is ninety-seven point four three percent._ replies PATER, and the images appear side by side on the main bridge holo-display. _As shown, remaining sensor capability slightly exceeds the ships weapon coverage._
_Since external weapons control and diagnostic sub-systems are isolated from external sensor sub-systems,_ continues PATER, _it is improbable that sensor damage is contributing to any inoperative weapon assembly readings._
After he considers PATER's report, Akhouw leans back in the command chair with typical regal style and observes the females sorting through the local curiosities of jump mechanics. He waits in silence for the engineers and navigators to report their readiness.
_Chief Munro,_ signals PATER, _I have a response from Captain Stubbs concerning the effects of jump in this environment._
_He advises that crew-members who are susceptible to Jump Transition Syndrome may find the experience slightly more severe, but the negative effects pass more rapidly. He does advise, however, that exposure to areas near damaged jump grids can exacerbate the situation, and recommends that such areas be avoided during jump at all costs._
Merkle leads the three new Engineers into Deck 4 Main engineering, still a gory mess despite some cleanup efforts. Chiifraa drops to all fours instinctively as he feels the slippery ice underfoot, and looks around warily. "Hooi! Lots pe neetet tone," he chitters, adjusting his tool belt as he skitters over to the main status board, Merkle completely forgotten.
Chiifraa sits up on his hind legs and squints at the status board, all the while fumbling with his suit comms controls. "Hoy! Hoy! Comms! I pe Chiifraa, new Ench'niir! 'Allo? 'Allo?" On the bridge, Zben Blaine picks up the broadband signal as the engineer resets his suit comms all across Blaine's neatly laid-out channel network....
A Teleporting Vargr with a Big Gun got less reaction than this blatent mis-use of communications. Quickly pulling open a spectrum window Zben watches the unauthorized ripple of frequencies across his board. He's about to call for a trace when the wild tuning stops, landing right across another channel....
Tuning across several channels of voices that seem to be discussing stuff like weapons disposal and autopsies, he hears a gruff voice humming a tune as it mutters to itself. << Pa pum pumpa pum ta pum pum, tequila, ta pum pumpa pum, realigning Number Two conduit interlocks, ta pum pumpa pum, looks good, on to Number Three.... >>
Chiifraa's nose twitches. "Contwit int'locks? Eerna iikfo, t'ose on Zookai capas'tor routink plates! EESY chob!" He scoots across the ice past Grey and Munro with a wave of his tail, and over to the main conduit panel, clambering up on top to join the Engineer in question at work, who glares at him in surprise.
<< Whurf?! Who are YOU, and what are you doing on my private comms channel? >>
<< Oooo, p'ivate chann'l n'so! Pe FERY i'pressive! I not kot new chann'l 'signmnt's--hat to hunt for right one. You hot-riffet Var'kr Enchniir, ah? I pe hot-riffet too! Maype *I* ket p'ivate chann'l now! >>
<< Now just a kakh MINUTE-- >>
<< Foo! Stop waste time an' han' me spin-triver! I ket t'is chob done fastfastsuperfast! >> Chiifraa sets to work busily.
Zben looks at the channel assignment and a small groan escapes, followed by a grin. "This may work itself out" he says to no one in particular, "But, just in case..." He keys open the active Engineering channel. << Blaine to Grey or Munro. I believe the three new "engineers" are in your area? If so would you be so kind as to have them set their comms to Engineering channel E-1, 42.26R, T delta+ .02. Also inform them I'll give them a full channel compliment when we have some down time. Good Luck! Blaine out >>
Morser continues to work on the damaged Jump Governor. His own German mutterings about wasted time and missed sensor readings soon fade away as the problem at hand absorbs him, and some ten minutes later he helps VDM out from under the now-purring governor. "Phantastich, mein Freund," he grins. "Not Prrrezisely in ze job deszcrription, but ve do vat ve must, ja?"
Christian absentmindedly wipes his hand on the vacc gloves tucked neatly at his waist. His tired smile tells his tale. "Indeed! So nice to have as understanding a patient."
Morsers grin fades as the door opens and three living, breathing unknown aliens walk into the room. Morser develops an expression like that of a child finding a dropped ten-credit bill in a candy store.
Eyeing the new arrivals carefully, Christian sizes them up. Huge, small, and tiny. Quite the assortment, he noted. The variety of sentient life in these parts seemed to be astounding in its breadth. As long as they don't shoot at us, he mused, we can take care of any *other* problems these curiosities would present.
He hoped.
He moves down toward the knot of people in Main Engineering, with a last glance toward the repaired governor.
As they reach their destination Rigo takes his leave of them and heads for the crew quarters carrying the satchel FixesThings filled with the threesome's personal effects. As he walks he addresses PATER: << PATER, where are our three new chums to be quartered? I promised them to take their belongings up to their cabins. >>
_Cabin 6-15 is now assigned to Chiifraa,_ replies PATER, _cabin 6-16 is assigned to Bexleyheath Tube Station Pop Vending Machine, and cabin 6-17 is assigned to He Who Fixes Things. I have taken the liberty of dis- engaging the compartment locks for you, mister Edmondsen. I will explain the lock operation to the new occupants when they take possession of their quarters._
Not more than a few minutes after Akhouw enters the bridge, the door slides open and Aiwi gracefully strides into the room. At least as gracefully as anyone still dressed in her vacc suit and carrying her helmet can stride. Taking in the damage received by the bridge during the attack, her eyes narrow slightly. That is the only outward sign of her chagrin that shows on her face as she stands before Akhouw and bows.
"My Lord," she begins, "The Khtaliyr is in warm-idle as per your command. Everything is locked down and ready for the jump. With your permission, I will take my place at the Navigator's station, and begin final jump preparations."
She walks up to the Nav station, approaching the one new person on the bridge and bows formally, though not quite as deeply as she did toward Akhouw.
"Captain Stubbs? I am Crew Chief Aiwiheikahaih, presently Chief Navigator of the Elissa. I am given to understand that you have programmed the Elissa for our next jump. Would you please briefly overview your calculations before we proceed?"
Stubbs returns the bow with a polite smile. "The honor is mine, Crew Chief," he says easily. "I have input the Jump data and computed a course with the aid of your 'PATER' construct, and can review it with you now...." He calls up the main holotank and begins to discuss the physics involved with Aiwi. Count Ger, who had already been over the process once, gets quite a bit further than he did the first time before getting lost, but Aiwi manages to hold onto a bare thread of the idea for considerably longer before she realizes that there is an assumed mathematical substrate she seems to be missing.
Behind Munro, the doors open into engineering. Barely heard is the chattering of a definitely non-human voice.
As Chiifraa smears his broadcast across the full spectrum of ship-wide comn channels, Munro's reaction is predictable and immediate.
What in `ell! Whirling to face the interloper, Munro gapes at a small creature less than 1.5 meters in height working the comn board like a pro. It turns, scampers past Merkle and climbs onto the console next to 'Vouf's shoulder. Glancing back at Merkle, she finds him looking at her helplessly. It's the first normal expression on anybody's face she has seen in what feels like a long time. The sense of depression lifts a little.
As static rolls through his helmet, Merkle turns from where he was giving directions to FixesThings and Bex, to stare as Chiifra skitters through the mess of Engineering.
Opening the Engineering channel and helplessly exchanging a glance with Munro, << Chief, your auxiliary Engineering Team from the Hamilcar. Our energetic friend is Electronic Engineer Chiifra.... >> Then gesturing in turn, << ... Jump Drive Engineers Bex and FixesThings. >>
Merkle wipes the sweat from his brow, then realizes he's still wearing a helmet.
Munro's gaze travels to the extreme Mutt & Jeff pair. To do so, she has to look up...and up...and up. With the skidder of feet and the help of the equipment behind her, it's a good bet either way whether she will win the battle of gravity....or not. Gravity wins. It usually does. Munro climbs back to her feet, rubbing her backside and gives a dramatic sweep to the dissarry in the room.
<< Ehrr..Welcome my friends to the show that never ends...here's a ship for you to tend, come inside, come inside! >> Straightening up, she continues << We'll be trying for Jump in less than 10 minutes with a bunch of repairs that still need doing. It looks like... Chiifra is it? has partnered up already. What're your specialties so we can throw you into the fray with the rest of the crew. >>
FixesThings looms helplessly over the toppled figure of Munro. As she scrambles back to her feet his basso voice softly but penetratingly fills the engineering space. "Uhm, He Who Fixes Things, I work now."
Like a hyper active moon orbiting achieving escape velocity from its planet a small blur whirs 'round the head of FixesThings then races down an arm to perch nose to nose with the now standing Munro. "Bexleyheath Tube Station Pop Vending MachinebutyoucancallmeBexreportingfordutysirwhereshouldwestart?" And with this said (in one tiny breath it seems) he is back into orbit comming to rest on top of his 'home planet'.
Tentitively, Munro give Fixes and Bex a small smile, her disheveled white hair with tiny sparkles of colored light in sharp contrast to the darkness of her face. She moves gingerly to a nearby monitor containing a rather long list of damages, while being careful to not look at what she is stepping on.
Having finished his half of the deck and met Abdul halfway, Rafe chins the button for the Security channel. << Rafe here. Abdul and I are done with the sweep of Deck 2. Nothing unusual. >> A corpse is a corpse, no matter how many legs it has, he thinks. << I'd truly LOVE to help with the cargo bay sweep, but I think it's more important that someone more security-minded than the redoubtable Ms. Niigurd be watching the aliens, n'ess pa? Rafe out. >> He hopes Rigo will take the excuse at face value.
Rafe heads back to the Armory. On the way, he reviews his mental "recording" of the discussion between Bhyarrvouf and Stubbs, stopping momentarily at the most critical points: "YOURS, stem to stern," "Jumps are INSTANTANEOUS," "The Ancients FOUND this place and threw a FIT"--
Rafe stops cold in the middle of the hallway for a moment as he tries to come up with a hypothesis to explain 'Vouf's next remark that doesn't strain the bounds of possibility. After a few seconds he shrugs irritably and moves on.
<< Got it, >> Grey grins. << Ee one, forty-two point two six R for Roger, T for Tomato delta plus point ought two. >> He turns to find the new Engineers, and gulps as he sees FixesThings for the first time.
Very, VERY cautiously, he walks over to where Merkle is standing, and pulls out a small clip-board. He writes "42.26R T /\ + .02" on it and holds it up for FixesThings to see, tapping his helmet earpiece with the other hand.
'Vouf splutters for a moment, then hands over the requested spindriver.
Standing on tiptoes, Fraa goes to work, with 'Vouf looking over his shoulder critically. << Tune to 42.26R T delta +.02, >> 'Vouf says. << Pfui! I PUSY! What for I to? >>
<< Well, that's the main Engineering Channel, >> is the soft rejoinder. << You DO want to be able to talk to someone other than me, don't you? >>
Fraa lets out a 'phoomph' that's somewhere between a snort and a sneeze, but acquiesces. After a moment, the engineers all hear the rest of the dialogue if they're monitoring comms in the background.
<< Hoy! Hoy! 'Allo? Ench'niirs? I pe Chiifraa! P'ease ta meetcha! >> Fraa makes a general wave around the room. Various voices respond on the line.
<< Mister Chiifraa, I am Chief Munro. We will be talking later. >>
<< Howdy, Cheefra. I'm Morgan Grey. Welcome to the Elissa. Hope your insurance is paid up. >>
<< Shut up, Grey. Guten morgen, Mynheer Chiifraa, und wilkum. I'm Aaron haut-Frieder. >>
<< Doejin saying hello, Cheeefreeee. *chatter* *clack* >>
<< I'm Angus. We'll do the social bit when we get time. Thanks for the hand... >> Angus's voice trails off, << This subsystem reminds me of my great-grandmother's patchwork quilt... >>
<< Greetings and welcome aboard, Chiifraa. I am Hur-Shurvan; I look forward to meeting you in person after we Jump. >>
<< Assuming we survive. >>
<< *Mister* Grey! >> << Shut up, Grey. >>
'Vouf watches Fraa as he returns to the task at hand, nodding to himself. << Guezkhe. Not bad at all. But you might want to leave each section loose as you finish, and tighten them all at once at the end, >> he suggests.
<< Foo, >> is the scornful reply. << I thinkink we in a hurry, ah? Pe wastet step! Reefers come soon--we kots CHUMP! >>
His immediate task complete, Christian drifts in 'Fraa's direction, sensing the buildup of purposeful chaos. Fire and water, he thinks, matter and anti-matter. He observes the interplay from a safe distance.
<< Tightening everything at the end prevents torquing the plate out of alignment gradually as you work your way across. It's steps like that that keep a Jump drive healthy for decades instead of years. >>
Fraa just snorts, never slacking up on his pace. << Hooi! You REELY anil-retent, so? Can reatchust AFTER we safe! Make note on Ench'niir Log an' att to rek'lar maintainance skedjul'! Safe two minutes now, maype not die pefore Chump, lose two minutes later when safe! >> Fraa chitters merrily. << You no hot-riffet Ench'niir. Kot lots ta learn! You stick wit' me, I teach you some t'inks, you petchoo! >>
The reply is a soft chuckle. << Kae, I'll just bet you will. >> The Vargr turns away and starts down the Coil housing carefully. His tail is wagging faintly. Fraa stops work and runs after him, grabbing his arm.
<< Hoy! Hoy! Where you go? What for you leave ME wit' t'is chob? >>
'Vouf looks at the small, strong paw holding his forearm, then at Fraa, his eyes glittering behind the facemask. << Because you've shown you can do it rapidly and well, IF sloppily. So I can move on to other things. Now get back to work or you'll lose that two minutes you promised me. >> He adds softly, << And I'd remove that hand if I were you. >>
Fraa yanks his hand back as if stung by an electroshock, and huffs angrily. << Who you t'ink you are? >> He puts his fists on his hips.
Uh, oh. Christian rolls his eyes. Here it comes....
<< Well, my name is Bhyarrvouf, if that means anything, >> is the smiling rejoinder.
Christian fixes his eyes on 'Fraa and drinks in the response.
Fraa's eyes go wide. << Puh, puh, Pyaarvoof? As in CAPTAIN Pyaarvoof? >>
'Vouf nods. << I'm afraid so. Now...? >> He cocks a thumb at the conduit pack....
<< Ai ai, sir. >> Fraa scrambles back up onto the coil. << Ai ai, sir. Ai ai. Ai yai yai yai yai.... >> His voice trails off in a whimper.
'Vouf watches him until he's back at work, then jumps down off the coil and stalks over to where the other new Engineers are standing with Munro and Merkle, his cheerful mood intensified, if anything. << Welcome aboard....Mister Chiifraa, >> he chuckles softly.
A soft whimper is the only response. << In trouple A-KAIN.... >>
Impolite snickering intrudes upon the comn line for a moment before Christian moves off toward the knot of engineers. << Hey, Chief, what's up next for an old scalpel driver like me? >>
<< Hrf? >> 'Vouf blinks at him for a moment. << Aenrra! What are YOU doing he--oh, right, never mind. Sorry. >> he sighs. << We've got the major jobs under expert care right now. You and Karl should start start knocking off the urgent one-man, two-minute jobs that are left on the list, I think. >>
For a moment, the good Doctor really *smiles*. A broad, heart-felt grin that pokes up out of his grey funk. He sighs in regretful agreement and gives 'Vouf a pat on the back. << Aye... (pause) Hey PATER, determine all tasks remaining capable of completion by one person, by order of priority and divide between myself and Dr. Morser. Display list on my hand-comp. >>
Vouf grins. << We'll have you back on the Bridge in no time...or better yet, stop by Sickbay and confer with Jan about some of the new data we have. Once we're out of here, that is...I'm glad to have you here with 'Khea for this Jump. >>
Christian listens as he scans the list of last-minute tasks. Something seems to click into place as "...stop by Sickbay.." drifts into his ear. He looks up at 'Vouf. Behind his calm gaze, a careless idea falls onto bone-dry tinder and flares into existence.
<< Aenrra... When the ship is safe, and you can spare a moment, we need to talk.. >> Something about his tone is odd, but as well as 'Vouf knows the good Doctor, even he can't decipher its meaning. Christian raises a knowing eyebrow to emphasize his point, gives 'Vouf another friendly pat, and moves off to start on PATER's list.
<< Yeah, I know, >> 'Vouf replies calmly. His ears flick once or twice as he watches van der Merwe leave, then heads into the main control center after Munro.
Zben Blaine swings around from watching Aiwi enter the bridge when a small flash of light catches his eye. Turning back he notes small sparks issuing from the Powerplant Engineering station. A large ragged hole shows in the casing just under the keyboard. `Shit!' Looking around he notices the several damage points left by the Gatling Laser's last wild firing. Noteing the intensity of work going on the lower bridge he steps over to Damage Control and pulls up a status display of each station on the bridge. Several show red flags, Powerplant showing completely red, Navigation showing an amber.
`Damn!' Zben chews his lip for a second and then keys the Captains private comn channel;
<< Captain? Blaine here. We're getting sparks from the damaged Powerplant Bridge station, and Drives and Life Support show collateral damage. I'd like permission to secure them so they won't short out during charge or Jump. >>
<< Whurf? Hang on a second, Zben... >> The voice is that of the grubby Engineer that Blaine first met in the Alcyon's warmup phase, an eternity ago. There is a moment's pause. << Keyaho, Zben, here we go. Most of those stations are offline anyway; we have full control down here. Except Drives; that one's damaged on this end, too, but it doesn't seem like anything major. I'm gonna do a full shutdown of all affected stations.... >> Several of the damaged stations go dark, but PowerPlant remains active, sparking dangerously. << All right, Merkle has Life support down here, and Drives will be on line in a minute, but it looks like the breakers on Powerplant are fused shut. Take it off line by hand, Zben, and check the other consoles for potential fire hazards. 'Vouf out. >>
Acknowledging, Zben slides from the commo seat, grabs the quick-fix box of tools, and pulls open the panels at Powerplant. Most of the relays that transfer control to main engineering have engaged, but a couple of live circuits are arc-ing over. Quickly but carefully Zben reaches in and pulls back the dangling cables, manually reseting the rest of the relays, triming and insulating conductors, and sniping the edges of damaged cards. Looking back at Commo he sees the damage control status changing from red to amber to black.
By 07:10, when things are settling into place for the Jump, Zben is back at his post, scanning the skies for any other transmissions aside from the routine status pings from the Hamilcar, which hovers protectively some distance off the Elissa's bow. The Hamilcar's main comms board is being handled by someone with a lusciously soft feminine voice, with a hint of an unusual accent. 'Probably a Hiver voder', Zben snorts to himself.
As Aolrkhea' reaches Deck 2, she sees several areas of activity: Doejin and Angus are working on one of the Power Plant tokamaks, gingerly removing debris and checking for surface damage, and Lazer Farouk is examining what appears to be unexploded demolitions equipment wedged into the conduits along one wall. He steps back, thoughtfully, as Jonson joins him.
Aolrkhea' sets down the scope and brings up plant schematics on her handcomp. From across the room she asks in a low voice, << Would you two care to know what is in that conduit? Or shall it suffice to say that remote detonation is out of the question? >>
Lazer responds, << I think the-- >>
<< Liquid hydrogen, >> Doejin offers helpfully. << Dangerous. >>
Farouk sighs. << --latter would probably suffice, but thanks anyway. >> He watches Jonson examine the demolitions equipment for boobytraps. A long minute passes as Thul doublechecks, then....
Thul snorts derisively ... "cheap stuff!" he snips the wires leading to the sqib from the detonator box, puts the explosives in one satchel and the detonator and RC box in another. Looks at Laser "any more surprises anywhere, Boss?"
'Khea grins pearly-whites in approval of Thul's action, then turns to her scanning.
Farouk permits himself a small smile. << That ought to do it, Thul. Let's get back to the Armory for reassignment. >> He keys his commdot. << Captain, Farouk. Explosives on Deck 2 neturalized, returning to Armory. Out. >>
<< Guezkhe, Major. Thanks. >> 'Vouf's voice is preoccupied.
A minute later, Doejin glides over to Angus and Khea' and chitters, << My tasks are in completion; the Power Plant systems appear in order. We should move to Main Control at once for the Jump. >>
'Khea stores the power grid data onto holocrystal for damage control analysis in main engineering, then follows Angus.
"Sir," Aiwi respectfully interrupts when Captain Stubbs pauses to take a breath, "I am confused by the 3D open mapping to a cylindrical universe. Are there precepts I am missing?"
Stubbs blinks at Aiwi for a moment, then says softly, "Yarirrekao ahki."
He then continues, "I was assuming that you would take the conformal mapping precepts as read, since they are rather complex. However, if you insist...." He backtracks and quickly lays out a foundation for the alteration in Jump mathematics based on a rather creative ("insane" might be a better word) stretch of currently accepted differential geometry. It's obvious from his style of speech that he's taught classes on the subject before. Ger is able to follow quite a bit more of the formalism each time, and Aiwi has no difficulty following the process, even jumping ahead of Stubbs in one or two places. The new course is completed and laid in well before word comes back from Engineering.
Aiwi bows once more to Captain Stubbs. "Thank you, Captain. Your discourse was most useful. If you will excuse me, I will now continue preparations for the jump to centerpoint. We haven't much time."
Etienne settles himself in front of a free station, lashes his gear down underneath the panel and under his chair, and snaps his hard helmet on the side of his seat.
After reconfiguring his displays and calling up the controls for a secondary pilot, he starts running through a list of damaged systems.
After checking over the damage and deciding how it will affect the ship's functioning he settles back and forces himself to relax.
Waiting, why do I always seem to be waiting, and what is it I'm waiting for?
Boris crackles across the comm, << Chief I've promised Shurv some extra help on Deck 5, from FixesThings and Bex. Unless I'm required elsewhere it might be wise to take a quick tour through the holds....It'd be a nasty chob if something to started moving around on, when we chump. >>
Munro looks slightly dazed by the frentic activity going on around FixesThings head. Shaking her head, Munro looks quizzically at Merkle a moment longer.
<< Only if you can do it in ten minutes or less. Cargo bay two is a mess, but it's one of the non-inhabitable areas for jump right now. Though anything that didn't get blown out into space when the hold went is not likely to break loose during jump. *I'd* rather loose cargo than the Cargo Master. Understood? >>
<< Understood Chief...I guess ten minutes isn't going to do for what I had in mind. >>
Glancing around, Munro fixes Grey with an slightly mischevious grin.
<< Mister Grey. Meet FixesThings and Bex. Please show them to where Hur'shurvan is working and introduce them. >>
<< Yes'm, >> Grey nods respectfully. He looks up at FixesThings uncertainly and says, << Uh, hi.... >> He then looks at Bex, who's perched on the huge alien's shoulder. << <...and hi. I'm Morgan Grey. Uh, c'mon with me, I'll take you down to Deck Five. >> He points out the way to the floor valve and lift.
<< Mister Bhyarrvouf, I believe it is time to do some pre-jump checks. >>
'Vouf raises an eyebrow, then smiles. << Aye aye, sir, >> he chuckles, in an unconscious imitation of Chiifraa. He follows Munro to the Main Control board and takes a position opposite her at the Grid layout panel. << beginning preJump 001.... >>
For the next five minutes or so, the two engineers speed through a checklist that would take the rest of the Engineering squad at least ten. Their dialogue is so thick with engineering jargon as to be almost unintelligible.
Boris returns to the terminal where he was previously working. He punches up a list of remaining pre-Jump jobs that are essential, with any Life Support jobs high lighted. << PATER, let's do a visual scan of all Cargo Bays. I want to see that all major items are still safely stowed. >>
Boris watches as the visual slides over bins, boxes, vehicles, occassionally making notes. << PATER, let's take a closer look at any damage done to the holds, that may compromise the ship's performance should random debris make contact during Jump. >>
A fuzzy, jumping, unstable display of starboard cargo bay #2 appears before Merkle.
_Coverage in all cargo bays, save number two starboard, is one hundred percent._ advises PATER. _Both securecams in that location have damage and the forward unit is completely non-functional. This view is from the aft unit._
Once again Boris patiently scrutinizes what he can see, watching for potential trouble spots.
<< PATER, compare the Cargo Manifest with any blind spots you may have in the Cargo Holds, and show me what should be in those blind spots. >>
PATER itemizes cargo. _A cargo elements are secure within safe transit parameters. The contents of cargo bay number two, starboard, consist of one Horronon all-terrain vehicle, secure, one storage module containing three Swallow flycycles, secure, one Eryx exo-loader, secure with minor damage, one bullet trap, secure, and the JiffyBang target controller, secure but non-functional. None of these items should present any problems during jump._
When Boris is satisfied that the Holds are relatively safe, he turns to the list of Life Support jobs and starts prepping for the next space hop, quietly crooning a child's song about the pleasures of hot, soapy baths.
Alliara strides towards engineering, all the while going through lists in her head...
"Right, I have recorders and the rest of the techno-junk. Sokuku is wrangling for a conference room. Rafe... Hmm... Rafe. What about Rafe?"
<< Mister Aunt-Remont, this is Niigurd. Please advise of your status. Will you be free to participate in the contact with the new "crew" members? Niigurd out. >>
<< I'd say I'll be another twenty minutes or so, >> Rafe responds, as he continues carefully investigating all the dark corners of Engineering Deck 2 for presents from the late, unlamented boarding parties.
<< Niigurd to Awntremont, thank you. Please join me in Engineering as soon as possible. >>
"Patty, Putter, whatever," Alliara shifts her attention, "please page the Contact team and sic 'em on the unsuspecting sophists, sophonts, whatever."
_I will prompt them again, miss Niigurd,_ replies PATER. _Mister Awntremont and mister Horne are finishing the security sweeps in the engineering space and should be available soon. Mister Bishop is still assisting in the repairs on the stern fighter bay doors and Doejin is heavily involved in repairs in the engineering spaces. I project that neither of them will be available for some time._
"Right, Pat. You know, Pat, I can save myself a load of verbiage if I refer to you as Pat. That's what it'll be, except during moment of intense stress when I shall, indubitably, call you various names of less than appealing semantic content. Update me if and when Doejin is out of the electronic murk. Bishop can fix doors as much as he wants, but Doejin I like - the whale bit was played by him well."
"Hmmm... Wonder what we'll have there. Probably some more of those slinkers, creepers and leapers. Better check!"
"Pater, please list the new crew-member's names and apparent species and vocations. Also, relative sizes and estimated ability to leap and eat anyone standing in front of them, if asked a wrong question."
There is a noticable pause.
_Miss Niigurd,_ remarks PATER, _Do you realize that is the first time you have addressed me without corrupting my name since this mission began? This may be statistically significant. Or should I request medical assistance?_
"Request medical assault!? Why not? I could try my hand at jabbing various drugs into my veins and have ooooodles of fun. And THEN, I'd try to play the surgeon. Hehe. Oh yes, with a scalpel. What say you, Pat?"
_Unless my records regarding your degree of medical expertise are in error,_ cautions PATER, _that course of action would be ill-advised._
Without waiting for further comment, PATER continues...
_I have no prior exposure to the species represented by the recently arrived Hamilcar engineers, other than that two of the races were apparently represented among the hostile casualties being collected by security and medical team members._ advises PATER. _With regard to the individuals names and vocations, I have audio clips from their introductions to mister Merkle and mister Edmondsen. Here they are._
Alliara immediately hears the following three sound bites re-played over her comm-link.
"I pe Chiifraa-- pest 'lectronic enchineer on t'a Hamilcar!"
Alliara smiles - "Oh, yes! Lack of labial and alveodental voice plosives and fricatives. Does the rest of recorded data from the sophont indicate the above assumption, Pater?"
_Affirmative, miss Niigurd. All speech data available from this sophont suggest that your hypothesis is valid._
"Please continue to record the conversations of the engineering team, regardless of their personal wishes, as long as said recording does not impinge on immediate privacy. Clearance for this action has been granted by the captain."
_Affirmative, miss Niigurd._
"Flag the captain's attention - I would like a mandate to record ALL conversations, regardless of their locale and context. I know the captain wishes to review the activity of the contact team and, specificly, my own, before granting such mandate. Nevertheless, maintain an attention flag."
_I will continue to record all vocal interaction between the existing crew and any new sophonts coming aboard._ reports PATER. _If the captain grants unrestricted access, you may review any of the data at your leisure._
"I'm Bexleyheath Tube Station Pop Vending Machine, ... Call me Bex."
"Pater, is there enough data to indicate that the the above name is a sobriquet?"
_Unknown._ responds PATER, _However, based on limited data, the consistancy of use during introductions suggests a formal name._
"If not, please request additional information about this species directly from the Hamilcar. Pipe it directly to Rafe, Bishop and Doejin. As soon as even a single datum is available, alert them and me."
_I will pass the request to mister Blaine on the bridge at once._ acknowledges PATER.
"He Who Fixes Things."
"Again, Rafe's input needed. I suspect the culture is fairly young or has a strong group/class awareness and limited self-centering. No indicative linguistic or phonetic features."
_With respect to sizes,_ reports PATER, _the largest individual is approximately two and one half meters tall and I would estimate a body mass of five hundres kilograms, assuming Imperial norm muscle densities._
"Ugh! Which one is that!? Voice pitch suggests the third. Please authenicate assumption. Or, rather, forget it. I am going in..."
_The smallest creature is approximately thirty centimeters tall, including a significant non-prehensile tail, and masses an estimated one and one half kilograms._
"Pater, please indicate whether such a creature should, according to known biology, be able to support a cortex of sufficient complexity to acquire language and other higher functions. This one is obviously self aware, since it spoke. Please request medical and neural data from the Hamilcar and pipe them to me through medical records available to you. Possibly, check with Van Der Merwe."
_Assuming a neural physiology approximating Imperial norms for carbon based lifeforms,_ advises PATER, _the creature in question is marginally within the lower bounds of complex social sentience. The possibility exists that the creature is a form of social or intellectual parasite. Clearly, more data is required._
_The final crew-member is slightly less than one and one half meters tall, and masses an extimated thirty kilograms._
_Based on apparent muscular and dentition, I would theorize that the two larger individuals are carnivorous or omnivorous, and only the largest creature represents a potentially lethal physical danger._ PATER pauses. _However, based on very limited observation of inter-species interaction, I would hypothesize that the large individual also demonstrates the most stable and least excitable personality, which would appear to moderate any potential threat._
Glancing overhead, Werner commands, "PATER, display text transcript of the Bhyarrvouf-Stubbs conversation on console four."
_Ready, doctor Werner._ replies PATER instantly.
"Jump to the section where Captain Stubbs begins to describe the Wire." Werner orders. The screen text obligingly changes.
::Vouf: Really? How long is it, then? How far does it go?::
::Stubbs: How high is up? We don't know that either. The part we can explore is about a light-year long, give or take a bit. Beyond that, the laws of physics begin to change at a rapid rate... you get into what's called the Dead Zones, where life can't exist. People who try to probe them don't last long. Even unmanned probes come apart if they go too deep.::
"Stop." barks Werner. "There. You see. He said a lightyear long. It's what he *didn't* say that we have to find out. They tried to explore further. They couldn't, but it's *there*! There's more to it than one lightyear."
"PATER, what type of Zuchai charge is being prepared for our upcoming jump?" queries Werner.
_A charge of two point nine one one four times ten to the thirty-first MeV is being prepared for conversion in the Zuchai lattice._ comes the reply. Werner does a rapid calculation on his handcomp.
"Ha! A jump one! PATER, did Stubbs ever indicate to the navigation team what happens at higher jump states?"
_That subject was never broached._ responds PATER.
"Well then," Werner turns to Smythe and smiles, "I guess we'll have to *ask* him, won't we Ostyn?"
"Yuhp, we shor will...," Smythe smiles back with a truly wicked grin,
"Course, we could uhlways find aht ahrselves... nah couldn't we?
Jump-4, inside thuh wire.... We could truly go wheyuh no wuhn has gone
befo'!
"Presumably, the local geography comes in contact with it at some
point..." Werner trails off. "That is a *damn* good question. Up
until now, jump space has existed only as a mathematical abstraction,
and for the sake of a few simple-minded engineers, a huge grey 'ocean'
on the other side of space." Werner gets a far-away, dreamy look in his
eyes.
"I wonder what it would actually feel like to touch the integral of one
over X dee X?"
Smythe, still with that dreamy look in his eyes, suddenly spins around,
doubles over as if to vomit, but instead of grabbing his substantial
belly, his hands are pressing either side of his head. Suddenly he
straightens up, "Hahaha
"You'd probably get frostbite," Schmud grins from his place by the
atmosphere readouts. "We don't know anything at all about the surface,
but I'd guess that it's probably not much for heat absorption, so it'd
feel cold to the touch...unless it were frictionless...." He winces.
"Ow. Brainsprain."
"I think you're all missing the point, here."
All heads turn at the quiet interjection. "Sorry for reprising my role
as an Alcyon Generalist," Witfield says apologetically, "But I see us as
having a very unique leg up on this problem, and we're not exploiting it
properly...yet."
"The Wire's had people living in it for a long, long time. Some of them
have to be scientists. But how many? It's fair to assume that if our
first meeting is with a bunch of farmers who can't control the weather,
that the overall level of technology can't be that far beyond what we're
used to. Combine that with the usual statistical figures for the
population segment that is capable of and enouraged to do basic
research, and what I think we're gonna find is that a lot of our basic
empirical questions have been answered already....but that the local
knowledge has LIMITS. Lack of natural resources, lack of the entire
Imperium's technological base to draw from, relying on fragmentary data
as it filters in here at random. Even allowing for thousands of years
to develop, they can't be that far beyond us, if at all."
Mac turns his couch around backwards and sits on it, warming to his
topic. "What I'm trying to say is, the odds are excellent that we may
be the first properly-manned, properly-outfitted scientific expedition
ever to enter this place. In this room, we have more galaxy-class
scientific minds than a single planet could be expected to produce in a
millennium--"
"There's a lot more than one planet's worth of land out there," Schmud
interjects.
"But how much of it is settled and capable of producing scientists?"
Mac shakes his head. "Remember what Stubbs said about outside resources
being precious. That includes US, our minds and the ability to use our
equipment to its fullest potential...and among 'our minds' I include
YOU, PATER."
_Thank you, Mister Witfield,_ PATER responds. _The inclusion is noted._
Mac grins. Abuko snorts to himself.
"I would argue," Mac grins, leaning forward, "That WE are the Elissa's
most precious cargo...and while it's fun to conjecture, I think a lot of
our answers will be provided for us, willingly, by our hosts, and that
it will take very little time before we outstrip them and begin learning
things about the Wire that no one knows. We are about to become very,
very important people, people."
"Which raises the question," Schmud sighs, "Of whether we're more
valuable dead than alive to the locals who rely on being on top of
things for a living."
Mac glares at him. "Oh, you WOULD say that!"
"Witfield, you're beginning to sound like another of the unwashed masses."
snaps Werner. "You may be an excellent specimen of the IISS, but you are
*not* an academic by any stretch of the imagination." He turns back to
the holo-tank and adds, "We *are* good at what we do, but to assume that
this roomful of researchers represents the pinnacle of intellect in this
entire continuum is the height of arrogance."
Abuko murmurs something unintelligible under his breathe.
"What?" asks Hryawi softly.
"I said 'Hypocrite'." whispers back Abuko.
"Wheewww," Tabor breathes. "Very VE-RY nice work, Doctor." He watches DaSilva as the younger man hands back the optical laser and strips off his sterile gloves. Neriika is still unconscious from the sedative, but the flash-damage to the opposite eye has been repaired, as has the facial trauma. "He'll be blind in one eye for a few weeks, but the rest should be nothing worse than a few scars." He nods, smiling. "I'm famished. Shall I scare us up a bite to eat while we check in with Jan on what's next?"
"Lot of interference from that boundary layer on these passive scans," Mac Witfield mutters to himself as his fingers fly across the controls. He ignores the chat going on between Werner and Smythe as he tries to pinpoint the source of the interference....
"Hey," he says to no one in particular. Then a moment later, a bit louder, "Hey!" He glances over to Hryawi, but she's busy. Abuko, humming to himself, is running a simulation package, oblivious to everything. Witfield is about to get up when Schmud comes in, setting down his laser rifle and helmet.
"Back to being ignored," he says, dabbing at his face with a wet towel.
"Not by me," Mac says. "I need--hey, what heppened to you, Abdul? You look like somebody busted you in the snoot!"
"Oh, I'm all right. Nosebleed." Schmud finishes cleaning himself up and strolls over to Mac's console. "What's up?"
"I'm crosscorrelating Aiwi's data from the Khtaliyr and what we've got so far," Mac says. "Look at these turbulence figures and refraction indices!"
Schmud rubs his unshaven chin vigorously as he thinks. "Hoom," he says mildly. "Anywhere normal, I'd know what this means. Here, I'm not so sure."
"I think Occam's Razor appplies here as well as anywhere else. Dr. Dhawan at the Institute was pretty specific on that." Witfield reaches for the comms. "PATER, please connect me to Sickbay and tie in to the Captain...and whoever's on the Bridge right now. Tag it 'important but not urgent'."
_Channels open._
"Uh, Captain, Doctor Yorblin, Bridge...this is Mac in the Sensor Pit. Am I just hallucinating, or are we reading about 120 torr of perfectly breathable air outside? That's high enough pressure to prevent blood boiling, isn't it, Doctor?"
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