Copyright © 1997, 1998
Last updated on 2/04/98
Aolrkhea' is staying out of the way and attempting to follow all activity electronically when she is jostled by the turning maneuver. She spends some time readjusting her gear before returning to her monitoring mode. Why did the deckplating buckle? Doctor and Engineer, Aolrkhea' doesn't like yet another unsolved puzzle.
Frustrated with the comm bug (deckplates and yelling), Aolrkhea' reverts to the handcomp:
<< Zben, Aolrkhea' here. Is it possible for me to follow your external audio tuning via my hand computer? I am wondering if there is a simple user interface that I could follow along? >>
[ A missing reply from Zben should go here. ]
The noise subsides, decibel by decibel, and slinks into the normal background.
Chiifraa peels himself off of his deathgrip on Aaron's lower leg and gingerly places one hind paw on the deck, as if testing hot bath water. When he feels it's stable, he hops down to all fours. He looks up at Aaron. << I sorry. >>
<< Sehr gut, Mynheer Chiifraa, >> Aaron chuckles. << Let's get back to work.>>
Chiifraa lets out a low, mournful whistle when he sees the main compartment; despite the presence of tiedowns and restraints, some equipment has come undone and been scattered across the deck, and several removable panels have popped loose, revealing the normally hidden conduits, circuits and machinery of the drives. << Where for we start, ah? >>
<< Who knows, >> haut-Frieder grumbles. He looks over his shoulder at Alliara, who's observing and recording the small mustelid, and smiles slightly. He says, << YOU pick. What do YOU think is most important to us right now? >>
Chiifraa blinks. << Town here? Or anywhere? Not our chob to fix kalley. >>
Aaron chuckles.
As the Elisa ceases to shudder, Alliara clamps the helmet back on. Gods, devils and ship captains are ignorant of human nature, she thinks to herself. Hell, we might even come out of this with SEH's PH's and PsychSec Discharges, after and if and when we get back. Not that we're likely to getr back.
Thumbing the 'comm on science channel, Alliara sigs and says:
Alliara's commdot immediately chirps back at her.
<< Bishop to Niigurd. I've been assigned to gathering comm intel by
Admiral Akhouw, but I don't think it will interfere with my ability
to remain on contact team duty. I'll be collecting additional recording
equipment ASAP. By the way, would you like me to activate my remaining
AGNIS units? We could use them to follow and monitor sophant groups if
there become too many for us to individually observe. I'll warm them,
just in case. Bishop out. >>
"PATER, _what_ is the status of the requested Contact HQ. Revising my
previous request, I think we better put it near the main airlock.
This will allow the Contact team to sift the visitors and see who's
to be followed by a live contact team member and who may be recorded
and logged by your own inscrutable presence. In addition, if a
boarding attempt is mounted against us, we'll have some bodies -
dead bodies, mind you - to block the corridor."
Having thus addressed the black ceiling, Alliara swings in pursuit
of Chiaafra and co.
<< _I have been unable to raise mister Sokuku regarding the meeting
facilities, miss Niigurd._ >> replies PATER. << _He has been active in
the ship mess compartment for quite some time, but he responds to neither
suit-comm hails, nor to the compartment speaker. As he is still observing
full vacuum protocols, I can only assume that either his suit comm system
is disabled or he is deliberately ignoring..._ >>
PATER is cut off in mid-stream by a hail from Sokuku.
<< Sokuku to Niigurd. Hey Alliara, my helmet speaker got switched off
and I didn't notice until I just tried to call. I've almost got the mess
set up as a contact conference room. Since there are so few crew-members
aboard right now, I figure the lounge can accomodate everybody for meals
and the mess'll give us the biggest open compartment on the ship, outside
of the holds, to meet and greet the new folks. Sound OK? >>
"Well," grumbles Werner, picking up his handcomp from the deck, "*that* could have been better."
"Indeed." agrees Hyrawi, as she shuts down several failed console components. Except for the occasional creak and groan, the ship is once again quiet.
Abuko, singularly intent on his own console, makes no comment. His hands dance across the controls with almost a life of their own.
"Come on, come *ON*!!" he chants. "Re-synch, dammit!" The main scienc holo-tank has stabilized, but the now-frozen image displayed there is over 3 minutes old, and shows no signs of being updated.
"Johann," offers Witfield, "Is there anyth..."
"GOT YOU!!" Abuko crows. Even screen in the compartment flutters for a moment, and then the synthetic data begins to stream in again.
"I've got the Centerpoint bounce back on line." he turns in his chair to address the rest of the team. "It's got a constant angular vector that wasn't there before, so it looks like the ship is turning. At the present rotational speed, we should have intact sensors out of the hull shadow in about..." he pauses to look at a chronometer on the console, "...four minutes and forty-two seconds."
As Lazer begins to field-strip one of the armory weapons, he pauses and then mutters to himself.
"I'd better start following my own orders. PATER, all-call please."
_Go ahead, major._
<< Security to all crew-members. Per authorization by the Captain, all personnel are to wear visible sidearms until further notice. Farouk out. >>
"Well, I imagine that will raise a hackle or two." comments Lazer, as he returns to his work.
"Indeed," comments an icy voice from the doorway as the iris valve to the hall hisses open. Azani jumps to his feet, his weapons check forgotten for a moment, and snaps a salute.
"Captain in the Armory! Sir!" he half-shouts.
'Vouf looks him over with a critical eye, then looks about the activity in the room, momentarily halted by his presence. "As you were," he whispers. He glances over at Azani. "Mister Azani."
"Sir!"
"Bring me my guns," 'Vouf orders in a cool whisper.
"Sir!" Azani reaches into the locker and retrieves the heavy gunbelt and the two massive Gauss pistols, handing them to 'Vouf, who straps them on with care. He tucks the small pepperbox revolver that had made short work of the teleporter into its holster and tosses it carelessly to Azani. "Stick that somewhere," he orders offhandedly as he draws first one, then the other pistol, examining them carefully.
Looking at the pistol in his left hand, he softly barks, "YaGhih!"
"YaGhih vreskegh," the pistol replies in a soft feminine voice.
'Vouf nods, then looks at the pistol in his right hand. "YaZouh!"
"YaZouh vreskegh," the right-hand weapon barks in a mean-tempered growl.
For a moment Rigo stands absolutely still, struggling to contain himself. Then a low, slow chuckle emerges from his suit loudspeaker, gradually building up to a hearty, full-throated belly laugh. Rigo makes several futile attempts to control his mirth. Eventually he switches off his loudspeaker and turns around facing the wall. His shoulders heave mightily a few times before subsiding. He then calmly turns around, switches his loudspeaker back on and with a perfectly straight face says: "Sorry, Sir. Speck of dust caught in my throat."
'Vouf twitches an ear toward the tall Human, eyes intent on his weapons. "Quite all right, Mister Edmondsen," he says softly, not looking up.
'Vouf grins toothily, spins both guns on his trigger fingers, holsters them, and practices a few fast draws, wincing at the still-annoying pain in his right wrist. Finally he holsters both guns, gives a curt nod to the Security team, barks, "Carry on," and steps back out into the hall.
The Security monitor on Deck 4 shows him making his way back to the Bridge, pausing every once in a while to fast-draw on some unseen opponent, first with one hand, then the other, then both. He drops the right pistol more than once.
"Crazy Goddamn Vargr...." JJ growls, reloading a shotgun. "Sir," he adds hastily, looking toward Farouk.
<< Goughzar to Elissa Bridge. Systems aboard Paladin are nominal. Is my presence requested on Elissa? >>
Amidst the furor, Christian spares the briefest of moments to reply. "Negative, Paladin, but I'm sure that Chief Munro can find a use for an extra set of hands. Elissa out."
<< Security to all crew-members. Per authorization by the Captain, all personnel are to wear visible sidearms until further notice. Farouk out. >>
Etienne mutters to himself, "Do blades count?" After a few moments of typing, a message is sent off to Lazer:
::I have my blade on my belt, a shotgun in it's case, secured under my station, and my tranq-pistol is in it's holster in my quarters. Which, if any, of these do you consider "sidearms"? --Etienne ::
After a pause of half a minute or so, the reply appears.
::Please secure your tranq-pistol at your earliest convenience. - Lzr::
By a quick check Zben is carrying five blades, but he guesses that won't fill Lazer's request. He types a quick note to Security;
:: Bridge Commo, Blaine, to Security, Farouk. Cannot leave Bridge. Armed with blades, will secure firearm as soon as conditions permit.::
Grey enters procedes into the shop area after the rumbling dies down. He stoops to pick up the occasional hand tool that has come loose. As he passes it on the way to get a grav lift he points to a set of low cupboards. << These are the cable lockers, but I think we may need a grav lift to get the spool up to deck 3. They're pretty heavy. Wait here while I go get the dolly.... >> He ducks out without waiting for a reply.
After a brief conference Bex hops down to a work bench and gathers up some cargo webbing. While he does this FixesThings gets to all-fours, opens the locker and pulls out a spool of optical cable.
<< Security to all crew-members. Per authorization by the Captain, all personnel are to wear visible sidearms until further notice. Farouk out. >>
FixesThings pauses. << Boom tube with Security. Find pipe or wrench up there Bex. >>
Bex's reply is almost instantaneous, << Got it, I got it! There's a great big wrench up here! You'll have to get it 'cause it's real BIG! >>
FixesThings keys the Security channel. << Can send boom tube down. >> He switches off without waiting for a reply.
Working together Fix and Bex soon have a sling rigged through the spool and when Fixesthings stands the spool comes with him. At about this time Grey reappears arround the corner with a grav lift.
He stops short, remembers the ease with which the terminal cover came loose in the paws of the big ursine and just grins to himself. << Well, shut MY mouth. I guess we won't be needing this after all. Okay, then, let's get on it! Hup, two, hup, two! >>
All three head out of the shop scooping up the necessary tools as they pass. FixesThings lifts down the huge conduit-tensioning spanner, hefts it briefly, and slips it into a utility loop at his waist.
<< Security to all crew-members. Per authorization by the Captain, all personnel are to wear visible sidearms until further notice. Farouk out. >>
Starting up from the diagnostics, he looks around quickly, and verifies that the laser carbine is still strapped to his chair. Comfortable that nothing has changed, he closes down the diagnostics. Bringing open a comm channel to the bridge:
"Goughzar to Elissa Bridge. Systems aboard Paladin are nominal. Is my presence requested on Elissa?"
<< Security to all crew-members. Per authorization by the Captain, all personnel are to wear visible sidearms until further notice. Farouk out. >>
Karl looks up crossly from his console at this. As he glares at the PA speaker, he considers the last few hours; the boarding raid, the destruction, the death...and the snub pistol that has been steadily rubbing a hole in his pelvic bone.
He reaches down, takes a pen from the breast pocket of his lab coat, and removes the cap, revealing a small blade, barely more than an old-style letter opener. He considers it for a moment and then, assured that he has chosen the proper instrument, replaces the cap and puts the pen back in his pocket wrong-side-out, with the clip in the pocket and the pen body hanging out in the air.
"Hrmph!" he grunts, "'Visible veapons indeed!" and goes back to work.
Munro switches to the engineering channel.
<< Munro to the engineering crew, is anyone hurt? Besides the usual out of body experiences, that is. Better yet, check in ASAP. If I don't hear from you, someone will be sent to find you. >>
Almost before she is done giving the order Bex is on the line. << I'm here! I'm here! Everything is fine, just a little shaking that's all but FixesThings doesn't shake easy so I'm just fine. >>
Then, at a more leisurely pace. << This FixesThings, I fine. >>
<< Aolrkhea' here, Chief Munro. I am following everyone, and am responsible for the health of the engineers. I shall stay out of the way unless there is an injury, and I will inform you immediately. >>
<< Grey here, Chief. All well but a lil' shook up. The Shop's gonna need cleaning. >>
<< Pe Chiifraa, Chiif. All t'ing pe hokay py Main Chump Teck. >>
<< Confirming, Mynheer Munro. Some popped plates and failsafes, nothing obviously fatal. haut-Frieder out. >>
Their Chief having been thus reassured, the Engineers return to the long and often dull task of checking the Elissa and repairing those of her hurts that they can master.....
<< Security to all crew-members. Per authorization by the Captain, all personnel are to wear visible sidearms until further notice. Farouk out. >>
Aolrkhea' verifies the visibility of her thigh-holstered gauss pistol (underneath all the gear she is carrying - helping Alliara is considered excess baggage ;).
'Bloody, frigging, 'ell.' mutters Munro, deeply entrenched at keeping a starving reactor running. Glancing at the doorway to her office, she briefly reflects on how long it would take her to get there. The thought is dismissed with a shake of her head. The thing's only a pea shooter anyway. Might as well get something useful.
<< Munro, to Farouk. Mister Farouk, the engineering crews are unable to get to the armoury for sidearms. Request that weapons be deliveried to them here in engineering. If the crew has stored any sidearms with you, I assume those are what they want if appropriate and possible. Also, I believe it would be impossible to arm Mister Hur'shurvan, and it is unknown what Doejin can handle. The new crew members are not to be armed at this time. >>
<< Farouk to Munro. I'm aware of your priorities, Chief. Please advise security as to the weapon requirements of your crew and I'll have someone distribute the appropriate weapons for you. Farouk out. >>
"Dammit, Lazer," mutters Munro under her breathe, "I'm an engineer, not a bloody ordnance depot supervisor!"
Taking a deep breathe, Munro replies, << I myself could use a gauss pistol. The rest of my crew will inform you shortly of their needs. Munro out. >>
Switching on the engineering crew comm, Munro briefly wonders what Fixes and Bex would use for sidearms. An image of the large ursiloid using a Gatling gun and Bex on his head holding a derringer two-handed flits briefly across her thoughts.
<< Munro to engineering crews. Since we can't just drop everything and go traipsing down to Security for some lovely little hole punchers, Security has agreed to bring them to us. Inform them ASAP about the kind of weapon you want, and then hang tight. They'll find you. Munro out. >>
The iris valve to the Bridge opens up and 'Vouf comes in. He is now wearing his gunbelt and his small fingerless cybersleeves, with the pair of huge Gauss pistols strapped to his thighs. "Keep the conn for a moment, aenrra," he says to Christian by way of greeting.
Christian sketches a salute at Bhyarrvouf immediately upon his entry, then breathes a well-concealed sigh of relief. Maintaining his post, he listens to the exchange between 'Vouf and Ger with deadly intensity.
Striding over to the Helm, 'Vouf hunkers down on his haunches beside Ger and says, "Mister Nanadh, can you run me that sequence you used again?"
Ger looks mildly perturbed, but nods. "Yes, Captain. Here it is, shown before and after corrections for lack of damping." He calls up the two sequences on his holodisplay. "And this is the one I have planned for five minutes from now, to stop the yaw." A third curve is added to the image. "As you can see, sir--"
"VUAKHAE." The forcefully spoken word cuts Ger off. "I'm thinking."
Ger blinks, but subsides, waiting.
Vouf stares broodingly at the sequences for a long time, then says, "Ger, there's nothing wrong with either of these sequences. Nothing at all; a midshipman Helm trainee could have plotted a move like this one and only knocked over a few bookshelves, and from you, even with the damage we've suffered, this sequence should have been like nosing under your tail for the night." Behind him, Stubbs stifles a chuckle at the odd analogy, turning it into a cough.
"I realize that, sir," Ger nods. "Hence my corrected sequence for the end-of-yaw maneuver...." He points to two places on the curve.
As the tension on the Bridge focuses on the odd pair of Darrian and Vargr, Akhouw quietly enters amidst the intense discussion and stands near the iris valve, biding his moment. With his penetrating gaze, Akhouw measures the state of the crew, coolly observing Captain Stubbs for a long moment.
Stubbs returns the gaze with a polite nod, eyes more on the shifting status displays in Aiwi's holotank.
Immediately on Akhouw's heels, Bishop slips past the admirals' imposing form, barely avoiding the closing iris, and moves to take his position at the bridge computer station. Then, apparently changing his mind, he walks instead back to the commo station and Zben Blaine.
"Zben," Adrian speaks quietly, so as not to disturb the command huddle at the helm, "I've got new orders and I need your help. Over the next four hours, we need to help PATER gather and collate as much information as possible about Centerpoint and the other occupants of the Wire. I want to glean every last scrap of data from the EM traffic in the area."
Bishop leans against the edge of the console next to Blaine.
"Can we configure the back-up commo systems to flow directly into PATER's data buffers, with the narrow-band filters disabled? That way, we should get everything and we... er, PATER that is, can weed through the mess and pull out the valuable stuff, while discarding the junk."
At the helm, 'Vouf frowns. "Yauur," he shakes his head. "Not there. Here. And here."
Now it's Ger's turn to frown. "Are you sure, sir? It seemed to me...." his voice trails off. 'Vouf regards him coldly.
"With respect, sir," Ger says after a moment, "Where were you for the maneuver?"
"Almost amidships, near the entry to the Cargo Bay. And you were here, essentially in the bow...."
"Aha!" Ger nods once, and moves the two points. "Very good, sir."
'Vouf nods and gets up. "We'll run that sequence at 0805, minus the dampers. Notify all hands at burn minus ten seconds." He turns back to the Command chair, and flicks the All-Call; while he makes eye contact with Aiwi, Stubbs and Christian for a moment each, he's not smiling.
<< Attention, all hands. This is the Captain. In about three minutes, we're going to maneuver again without dampers. That should be the last maneuver for a while, but all personnel should brace for shock waves. It should be much gentler than the last one. Captain out. >>
'Vouf sighs, and says, "I relieve you, sir," to Christian.
Christian stands and replies in a clear, calm voice. "Aye, sir, I stand relieved.
"Remain on the Bridge or secure the Aurora at your option, Mister van der Merwe." continues 'Vouf, "I may have need of a scoutship at some point in the near future, assuming she's able to maneuver after the battle damage she took."
"Have no doubt, sir, she will be ready as you require." A layer of fierce pride influences Christian's reply. "Thank you, sir, I shall therefore attend to the Aurora." He nods at his Captain, then takes his helmet and exits the Bridge directly.
After Christian vacates the chair, 'Vouf sits down and rests his chin on his half-armored fist, brooding as he watches the panorama on the forward screen gradually arc past him. "I almost hope I'm not right," he says softly. "We'll know soon enough. In the meantime, Mister Blaine, find anything worthwhile on the comms?" He turns to the Communications Officer with obviously-forced pleasantry, visibly setting whatever's worrying him aside for a moment or two.
Aiwi's sensor station and Blaine's comm-panel both come alive with an avalanche of data. Auto-filters at both stations immediately cut in to reduce the broadband signals to manageable levels. Red "Attention" indicators flash insistently, demanding operator selection from the cacophony of information.
Zben's hands flash over the console, setting up filters to reduce the inundation. Most of it goes into a short term roll-over memory, with keys such as "Elissa" "Dazzleship" "Stubbs" and "Hamilcar" bringing the info to the top of the pile. He turns to the Captain;
"Sir, we're getting Gigs of data. I'll try and sort thru the dreck for anything pertinent."
As Merkle is listening to engineerng get organized...
<< Munro to engineering crews. Since we can't just drop everything and go traipsing down to Security for some lovely little hole punchers, Security has agreed to bring them to us. Inform them ASAP about the kind of weapon you want, and then hang tight. They'll find you. Munro out. >>
...his mind immediately replays the recent firefight on the bridge, to which he could only play witness.
<< Merkle to Armoury. I'll be somewhere between Engineering, probably in the Cargo area. Something small, and easy to handle please. Also, Mr. MacLaeran will also be there. >>
With a few taps, Boris sends damage reports and the list of repair crews to the Aurora, the Paladin and to the Bridge.
<< Merkle to Blaine. Zben, the Bridge now has access to an updated damage report and a list of the crews assigned to them. I also have to ask Captain Stubbs' about Centerpoint's docking facilities. Is he free? >>
Zben scans the info streaming from engineering. As he starts to convert it into a graphic representation he glances up and catches Stubbs attention.
"Sir? Boris Merkle from engineering is on line and would like to discuss Centerpoint docking facilities. He's on channel 'E', a graphic of damage reported is coming up on screen 3 in front of you."
There is a moment's pause, then Boris hears:
<< This is Captain Stubbs, Mr., ah, Merkle. To answer your question, Centerpoint is equipped to handle docking and service for ships of almost any size and most if not all docking configurations. However, that's not likely to be a concern, at least at first: considering the damage you've taken, you're almost certain to be drydocked immediately.
You'll be directed to Ell-Ess-Heavy-One, the main landing stage and drydock for ships massing over 20,000 tons strict displacement; the crews there will see to cradling and rigging her. If a personnel tube can't be set up, which frankly would surprise me, we'll still be able to debark in vacc suits and leave the Stage via airlock.
Inform your Chief that the Elissa will be very well looked after.... >>
With as much speed as circumstances allow, Christian moves aft down the long corridor, humming a vaguely martial tune.
Upon his arrival in Main Engineering, Christian waves in the general direction of its current residents as he makes a beeline for the Machine Shop.
Akhouw steps forward, trusting his instinct of timing. His manner is nearly *too* polite and proper, concealing to all but the very most discerning a dangerous problem. "Excuse me, Captain, if I may intercede here for a moment? I would be interested if I could see Mister Nanadh's maneuver plan, as modified by your instructions, sir." His respectful words are accompanied by a formal bow of exacting precision. "I may have an alternative suggestion for your consideration, sir, if you will permit me."
'Vouf turns and gives Akhouw a measuring look for a moment, then nods, waving the huge Aslan forward. "Set it up on a spare display, Commander. I want to compare it to what we have now." He smiles grimly. "PATER's got long enough fangs to bite all three problems in tandem simulations."
As Akhouw moves to examine the helm console, Ger's expression becomes one of gradually increasing concern. As the Darrian pilot continues to study the modification to his most recent maneuvering plot, one can almost see the gears furiously turning in his head.
"Sir," he addresses 'Vouf cautiously, "I realize that you experienced the last maneuver from a different location... but I'm not sure this adjustment will do what we want." Before he can be interrupted, Ger quickly opens another 'scratch' display and begins coding in formulae.
"Given the better approximation of superstructure damage that we now have," he fills in data rapidly as he speaks, "we can treat the ship as a simple supported beam with a uniformly distributed load, like this." He points and then continues to type.
'Vouf frowns, and deftly steps past and under Akhouw's shoulder, scooting in behind Ger's chair. Since he's a full two feet shorter than his second in command, this maneuver doesn't block Akhouw's view in the slightest. "My estimate utilizes a rigid-block model with a known stress modulus," he says cautiously. "What's a supported-beam model buy you other than a lot more compute time?"
"It provides us with a modified equation that allows flexion values to be plugged into an aribtrary number of control points." explains Ger. "Since the ship is bending, apparently beyond design tolerances, I think it would be safer to compute the next maneuver using a formula that allows for that behavior." Then he points back at his console.
"We can minimize the L-value in the Buckling equation by modifying the polar moment of inertia", he gestures, "here, and by compensating for the ship's radius of gyration, "he gestures again, "here."
"I'm certain this will have the desired effect."
Ger leans back away from the console and pensively waits for Akhouw and 'Vouf to review his calculations.
At heart an intuitive pilot, Akhouw views the dry mathematical equations not as sterile holo data but rather as vibrant three dimensional pictures. His mind runs through the options as he turns from one plot to the other. Nodding and rumbling in approval, Akhouw taps at Ger's modified maneuver. "Close, very close!" He looks down, sees 'Vouf scratching away at his data furiously, and waits patiently for his result.
'Vouf leans over the new display and examines it closely, scratching his chin. He mutters to himself in Vuakedh for a moment, then reaches down and begins chording data into a cybergauntlet at high speed. Two holodisplays appear above the two sets of equations, each holding a small, highly simplified framework model of the Elissa. 'Vouf runs the two equations on the holotanks. Nanadh's new set of numbers produces a small but visible flexing of the main structural member of the ship; in 'Vouf's calculation, the ship remains rigid. 'Vouf watches the displays sourly for several seconds, and opens his mouth to speak, when the display over his equation set suddenly shifts abruptly. He blinks and closes his mouth again. The holo of the Elissa over his modified solution now shows a red stress fracture down the spine, whereas Nanadh's simulation, still flexing ever so slightly, is unharmed.
'Vouf blinks, stricken. "I would have killed us all," he whispers. He rubs a hand over his eyes wearily. "Ouma's mercy." He looks over at Akhouw, visibly shaken. "And your approach, Commander...?"
Akhouw nods at Ger. "Very close to the solution proposed by Mister Nanadh." He adjusts a holo control, then withdraws a stylus from an invisible pocket and draws a plot equation in such ornate yoyeaokhtef that is is akin to art. A few more taps at the holo panel and the script melts into a more readable form for the non-fteirle.
"As you can see, this is a more refined version of the plot, based on hard-won experience with a similar-sized ftierle vessel many ftahea ago." A touch of the professor imbues his voice as he instructs the bridge on his technique. "The advantage is that not only is a major spinal fracture avoided, but also the stress is spread over a wider area, minimzing sub-critical micro-fractures." He taps at a point on the display. "The key is the variable duration staggered thruster firing sequence. Crew Chief Aiwi can explain the theoretical and practical aspects of this equation if you so desire."
Akhouw looks between Ger and 'Vouf.
'Vouf is still rubbing his eyes slightly, but at the pause in Akhouw's speech he looks up at his second in command, then down at his ex-commander. Akhouw's eyes regard him with their familiar orange calm; the long-dead gaze of the old Darrian is, as ever, unreadable. 'Vouf says nothing, but leans forward abruptly to examine the two similar plots, one hand absently wiping his own solution away as if sweeping garbage from a tabletop. His ears snap forward attentively and his eyes narrow, forcing focus on the problem at hand. He compares the two solutions carefully; nodding at the Aslan's plot, he addresses Count Ger. "Comment, Mr. Nanadh?"
Ger scratches his chin, and says mildly, "Never having flown a ship that's damaged in this way, I concede experience to the Commander. But his additions assume a lot about the Elissa's construction that either may not be applicable to a human-built ship, or relies on guesses as to the extent of the damage and the ability of the thrusters and dampers to--"
'Vouf frowns impatiently. "Get to the point," he snaps, adding after a moment, "Please."
"I think, sir," Ger says, "That we could run either plot with no damage at all. The differences are trivial on this scale. I also think that if we don't run *something* in about thirty seconds, we'll miss our window and have to make another pass." He shrugs. "I won't be insulted if you run his plot....or honored if you run mine."
Akhouw looks down at the mature Darrian and emits a short *hurf* of amused agreement. "Indeed, sir, I concur in that assessment!" He cocks his head to one side and considers his energetic commander. "As you desire, sir."
'Vouf nods sharply, and says, "PATER! Do you have both solutions available?"
_I do, Captain._
'Vouf cocks his head slightly in a very canine gesture of curiosity. "Which one..." He pauses, and his tongue lolls out slightly in a grin. "...uses less fuel?"
"Errrmmm...." is Akhouw's sub-vocal comment. Interesting decision criteria. Slightly more useful than flipping a coin-piece...
_Count Ger's, by two point one eight percent._
"Right." 'Vouf snaps. "Apply it and fire on the mark."
_Understood._ The All-Call flicks on. _All hands brace for maneuver._
There is barely enough time for PATER to complete the call, and no time for anyone to react to it, when the thrusters fire, their tempo muted in comparison to the previous maneuver. Ger's hands reach for the board and hover, waiting to apply manual tweaks should they be needed. For a long thirty seconds, the Elissa thrums as her turn is gently slowed and halted, 'Vouf standing immobile behind the Helm station, watching. The deck acquires a very slight tilt, enough for the inner ear to detect but just barely, and if the Elissa groans under the strain, one would be hard pressed to hear it.
"Maneuver complete, sir," Ger reports. "All stop, head on to Centerpoint."
'Vouf nods. "PATER! Status?"
_No additional damage to report, Captain. Sensor Pit reports all input on our destination now at nominal data rates._
'Vouf nods, and pads back to the Captain's Chair. He sits and waits for the forward display screen to show him something interesting, his expression only slightly less sour than it was a few minutes before.
Akhouw moves slightly to put himself just within 'Vouf's field of vision. As soon as he gains Vouf's attention, Akhouw bows. "If you wish to retain the conn, sir, I would like to inspect the damage and our new crewmembers. If I may?"
Aiwi's ears seem to perk a bit at that, though she continues to assess damage reports, and monitor the dearth of communications signals.
'Vouf looks up at the tall Aslan and nods slowly. "Ka'tai, go with honor," he says softly. Then he returns his gaze to the viewscreen.
After a moment, he calls over his shoulder, "Oh, and Commander? On my orders...grant a bit more than the usual leeway for barbarians to Mister Chiifraa and Mister Bexleyheath...getting them into line is a task best left for your esteemed Crew Chief. In fact...." His muzzle quirks in a grin as he favors Aiwi with a glance and a faint tail-wag.
Aiwi hesitates for just a moment. She then lets out a very light hiss which is the closest thing to a sigh she'll ever come to. She turns in her chair toward 'Vouf at the mention of her name.
"Aiwi, would you care to join the Commander on a tour of inspection? Captain Stubbs and I have things well in hand here, and I'm sure that the Commander...and the engineers...would benefit from your expertise on female matters." His grin widens as he waits for Aiwi's answer, obviously relishing the concept of both of his seconds inspecting the Engine Deck....
Aiwi gracefully rises from her seat and bows. "Yes, Captain. I think that the Engine Deck could definitely use some reviewing." Her discomfiture about her suspicions on the ship's damage (and the new crew) would only be noticeable to Akhouw. She turns to Akhouw and says, "After you, Milord?"
Immediately on Akhouw's heels, Bishop slips past the admirals' imposing form, barely avoiding the closing iris, and moves to take his position at the bridge computer station. Then, apparently changing his mind, he walks instead back to the commo station and Zben Blaine.
"Zben," Adrian speaks quietly, so as not to disturb the command huddle at the helm, "I've got new orders and I need your help. Over the next four hours, we need to help PATER gather and collate as much information as possible about Centerpoint and the other occupants of the Wire. I want to glean every last scrap of data from the EM traffic in the area."
Bishop leans against the edge of the console next to Blaine.
"Can we configure the back-up commo systems to flow directly into PATER's data buffers, with the narrow-band filters disabled? That way, we should get everything and we... er, PATER that is, can weed through the mess and pull out the valuable stuff, while discarding the junk."
[Note to refs: I've taken a couple of liberties here that make sense to me, but you might feel differently...]
Zben glances up at Bishop, then out at the tense group in the center of the bridge. He turns and stares at Bishop for a moment, obviously mulling over something. Finally, he slowly answers...
"Well, some of our links are down, and we may have to do some high speed bump scanning, but by tying in the frequencies allocated for intership commo and the contact team I think I can bring up enough band width to cover 75% of the broadcast EM bands. Laser and Maser don't count as they have their own processing paths anyway, and those would have to be aimed at us specifically."
"However..." and here he glances at Stubbs who is watching everyone BUT Zben closely... "WhatEVER you want for info may be available another way." He calls Adrian's attention to a small display at the bottom of his Commo panel. A program is running sets of numbers and complex codes. Three number sequences are highlighted at the top of the list. "I figured they must have a fairly advanced communications web to keep everything running. I've done some, ummm, `checking' and have been able to figure out their cell-link traffic system." Two more number sequences light up. "There are lots of digital links, and I've got 5 so far that we can tap into. We should be able to get into a local data library and start doing specific searches soon." He glances up at Adrian with a sly smile. "Old habits die hard. I never did like being left out by the locals... Besides, I figure they'll get around to GIVING us a link soon. I'm just anticipating.
The astonished expression on Bishop's face is like a snapshot from the past. As his eyes widen and his face splits into an ear-to-ear grin, Zben is, just for a moment, face-to-face with the hyperactive, wise- cracking, alcoholic smokestack of a reporter that forced his way aboard the Alcyon what seems like a lifetime ago.
"Zben, you sneaky, underhanded, devious SOB!" Adrian exhorts sotto. Glancing over his shoulder at the helm to make sure Stubbs attention is still diverted, he adds, "That is bloody *brilliant*!"
Assuming a sitting squat that brings him chin to armrest with Blaines seat, Bishop leans in closer to Blaine, switches mental gears and is back to _all_business_.
"Zben, keep searching for those links and pipe them straight over to the computer console," Bishop thumbs towards his station across the bridge, "as soon as you find them. I'll get PATER started on packet recognition and we'll go after the code gates."
"...And six, and five, and four, and three..." Abuko ticks off the time remaining.
"Lock up!", he shouts, and the trickle of data into the sensor pit becomes a torrent. The fuzzy holographic construct in the main holo-tank becomes a complete, full color, 3-D image of the distant toroid floating above the city called Centerpoint. With each passing second, the image becomes more and more sharp and distinct, as additional hull sensors move out of the Elissa's shadow and acquire the distant target.
Aiwi's sensor station and Blaine's comm-panel both come alive with an avalanche of data. Auto-filters at both stations immediately cut in to reduce the broadband signals to manageable levels. Red "Attention" indicators flash insistantly, demanding operator selection from the cacophany of information.
As MacLaeran turns to follow Boris to see to the repairs and idea begins to form. "Boris, hold on a second and check me on this, please." He flicks to the engineering channel, "Yolanda, sorry for the interruption, but I have an idea. Without tests we can't be sure, but the buckling is mostly likely due to torsion of the ship's spine. Any other manuveurs will be subject to orders of magnitude more torsion now. How about if we try to reduce that with traction, like immobilizing someone with cracked vertibrae? Longitudinal traction will be easy. The rotational part will be tricky though. We could do something like using the jump riders and tow cables. Perhaps attaching to a section of the hull and apply enough pull during a manuveur to keep longitudinal tension while rotating that section to keep it in-line with the rest of the ship. Definitely tricky, unless we can come up with another way to eliminate the torsion and protect the spine. I don't know if just bringing the dampening fields back on-line will do what we need. What do you think?"
<< Tabor to Medical, just checking in. All secure on the Bridge; I'm not sure what's going on, but beased on body language I'd say that our last maneuver just came off much better than the previous try. Am staying here until called for. Tabor out. >>
<< Jan, this is DaSilva. I'm all finished here; Neriika is resting comfortably. I'll brief you on his status when you get a minute; all you need to know now is that his vitals are fine, one of the medbots is watching him, and he should be conscious if not very erudite in about two hours. Where can I be of help? >>
'Vouf looks up at the tall Aslan and nods slowly. "Ka'tai, go with honor," he says softly. Then he returns his gaze to the viewscreen.
Akhouw bows in return. "Thank you, sir." He takes two measured steps aft before his ears twitch and he turns to listen to 'Vouf.
"Aiwi, would you care to join the Commander on a tour of inspection? Captain Stubbs and I have things well in hand here, and I'm sure that the Commander...and the engineers...would benefit from your expertise on female matters." His grin widens as he waits for Aiwi's answer, obviously relishing the concept of both of his seconds inspecting the Engine Deck....
Aiwi gracefully rises from her seat and bows. "Yes, Captain. I think that the Engine Deck could definitely use some reviewing." Her discomfiture about her suspicions on the ship's damage (and the new crew) would only be noticeable to Akhouw. She turns to Akhouw and says, "After you, Milord?"
Nodding at Aiwi slowly, Akhouw rumbles in reply, "Indeed, milady, let us consider our new additions, crew and otherwise." He tosses his mane, tracing a paw through the deep gold fur, and looks over to 'Vouf.
Aiwi nods at Akhouw, somehow making the gesture seem as formal as a bow. She bends down and picks up her Vaac-suit helmet.
"I understand your concerns, Captain. Our philosophy of patience -- taro -- will guide my actions and I shall allow these tleftuaa a wide margin of error. However..." Akhouw huffs in unnerving amusement. "I am sure that I shall properly motivate our new crew."
Aiwi seems almost grim, though this could have been the fact that she hasn't had any sleep in a day or two. She waits until Akhouw finishes speaking, and then heads toward the iris.
A sweeping gaze over the bridge, then Akhouw paces through the bridge iris and heads into the hallway at a steady clip, slowing only as he reaches the Armory and enters. He stands there for a moment, until he catches the eye of someone therein.
Aiwi follows behind, exactly in step with Akhouw and a respectful distance behind him. She follows Akhouw into the Armory and stands there with her arms crossed, her eyes scanning the room.
Tar Berana is caring for the gauss pistols when....
Akhouw paces through the bridge iris and heads into the hallway at a steady clip, slowing only as he reaches the Armory and enters. He stands there for a moment, until he catches the eye of someone therein.
"Yes Sir!?" Tar acknowledges the XO and asks if he can be of service with one phrase. He pauses at his work until Akhouw gives further indications.
Akhouw nods gravely at Tar. "Please continue, Mister Berana."
As Rigo notices Akhouw he straightens into something as close to attention as his combat suit will allow him and quietly commands: "Attention!"
Hfolraw glances up as Rigo moves, spots Akhouw in the doorway, slaps his weapon components (carefully) down on the workbench, and smoothly drops off his seat and onto one knee on the deck, his head bowed and his palms up towards the Admiral. His bark of, "My lord?" echoes counterpoint to Edmondsen's order.
In a gently dismissive gesture, Akhouw waves at Rigo and Hfolraw. "At ease, at ease." He turns slightly, reaching to tug loose the restraints to the trolitakheal hidden behind his bulk. A few seconds later, he hefts the power pack and rifle in one hand and holds it out to Hfolraw. "Please see to it that this is prrroperly serviced." A throaty rumble lends a very subtle emphasis to his words. "I fear that the lasing alignment may have drifted out of tolerance."
Hfolraw hefts the sculpted Aslan beam weapon onto the work bench. "I will see to it at once, my Lord."
Engrossing as he is in a half-dissassembled gauss rifle, Lazer only now notices the visitor. Quickly standing, he steps away from the bench and towards Akhouw.
"Admiral," The resolve in his eyes is almost buried by the fatigue. "What can we do for you, sir?"
Horne, Kor, and the others raise from their positions, and stand to face the large Aslan, trying their best to present a posture of respect and readiness.
Akhouw notes the layers of fatigue in Lazer's voice, and his eyes flicker in concern. "Nothing more than that, Major, but I do want to see a revised security rotation schedule to account for our new situation." He steps close to Lazer and his voice drops to a directed whisper. "I expect you to take the first sleep period, Major."
"I... yes, sir." Lazer responds. "The revised schedule will be in your E-box by..." Farouk pauses to glance at his wrist chrono... "1200 hours."
He looks over the small group. "Excellent work, all of you. Carry on!"
A chorus of weary nods acknowledge the compliment and his departure.
A bow of the head to Lazer, and he turns, heading to his cabin at a quick clip. Disappearing inside, he reappears after a short pause with the traditional spear-hook slung over his back.
Akhouw looks over to Aiwi. "Now, on to Engineering, milady!" Unless there is further byplay, he leads off to Engineering. At the door, he pauses to let Aiwi take the lead and follows her inside.
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