Jeb Walker stood stiffly at attention in the General’s office. Waiting. The General had called him there, but for what Jeb didn’t know. General Hess wasn’t even there!
"At ease, Lieutenant," Hess said, walking into office. "Know why you’re here?"
Jeb saluted and relaxed slightly. "No, sir. I don’t."
Hess nodded. "You’ve heard of the Proteus, haven’t you, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir. That’s the ship with the prototype hyperspace tracker?"
"That’s right, Lieutenant, and as of right now, she’s under your command." The General smiled. "Major."
Jeb blinked in an attempt to adjust to the rapidly changing situation. A promotion and a command in as many sentences? "No offense, sir, it’s a great honor, but why me? I’m a fighter pilot, not command trained. There has got to be people better trained for whatever the Proteus’ mission is!"
"You’re not refusing to take command." The General’s voice was frankly disbelieving.
"No, sir, I’m not." Jeb sighed. "Just curious, sir."
"Good. The Proteus mission, Major, is a SOP for public relations. When the Jupiter Mission failed, to the populace at large we didn’t care about the Robinsons enough to send a rescue mission after them."
"We were too busy trying to keep the Global Sedition from kicking us when we were down, sir!"
"I know that, Major Walker, and so do you. But the point is that the public doesn’t know it. And the global government is still new enough to be shy of any loss of faith from the masses. So the Proteus Mission is ostensibly a search-and-rescue mission. In reality, you will have a six month timetable to complete your search. With the hyperspace tracker, it’s more than enough time. Once the six months are up, you are to continue to Alpha Prime and complete the Jupiter Mission. Facilitate colonization form Earth. Frankly, Major, you’re in command because we can point to you and say, this man has a personal stake in this mission. He’s the Jupiter 2’s pilot’s best friend." Hess crossed his arms. "Any questions, Major?"
Jeb grinned. "Just one, sir. When do we launch?"
"You will meet your crew tomorrow. After that, you can leave whenever you’re ready, Major." He laughed. "Whenever you’re ready."
*****
Tank Cohen fidgeted restlessly, listening to himself whir and click. He hated deserts. He hated holograms. He hated holograms of deserts. And most of all he hated the man standing in front of him.
The man was officially known as the Fixer, at least in the combat units. He acted as a kind of liaison amongst the various Sedition groups and espionage agents. Word said he had another name where the espionage agents were concerned, but that was unconfirmed as no one ever had any contact with the spies except the Fixer. In Tank’s particular group, the Fixer was more commonly called the "Nose Guy," on account of the fact that his most salient feature was his nose, and he spoke in a high-pitched voice that sounded as if he had an eternal head cold. He stood silently, watching Tank.
"So," Tank said. "You called the Crusader away from the fighting. Why? We’re the best and you know it! I’m sure your bosses know it, too!"
"The United Global Space Force is mounting a rescue mission for the Jupiter 2."
Tank stared. "A rescue mission? Let them! You said an agent took care of the Jupiter!"
"Our informants inform us that the secondary purpose of the Proteus is to finish the Jupiter Mission and colonize Alpha Prime."
"I...see. And we have not solidified our hold on Alpha Prime. Or even gotten much of a hold at all." Tank turned away from the Nose Guy. "I’ll want to see the Proteus first to be sure it’s worth the Crusader’s time."
In response, the desert shimmered into blackness around the two men, and a ship appeared in the space. "The Proteus," the Nose Guy said simply.
Tank smiled slightly. "Schematics, Fixer? I am impressed." He examined the holographic model, occasionally touching portions on it to bring up additional information. Out of habit, and to cover up the noise his cybernetics were making, he thought out loud. "Mid-level shields and weapons, hyperspace tracker, fast computer, no AI. Could be interesting. We’ll do it," he said. "Hologram off."
The blackness, ship, and Nose Guy disappeared to reveal Tank’s drab, spartan quarters aboard the Crusader. Tank activated the comm system. "Darlene, Spike, Crowe, Grey, Paler! Report to my quarters immediately! We’ve got a new job!"
*****
Jeb surveyed his crew on launch day, two weeks later. Keenan Callahan, the first officer, was supervising Ops and Helm. He was a man whose career had been spent commanding manned vessels like this one; personnel carriers mostly. He was the one who would give Jeb the backup he would probably end up needing. A good guy, although not exactly a rugged individualist.
His communications officer, Joyce Marius sat nearby at her console. She’d struck Jeb as a serious-minded, dedicated, and efficient; all good qualities. The two other officers on the Proteus mission weren’t bridge crew.
There was the chief engineer, Lieutenant Rafe McMonigle, who had first announced that everyone called him Rafe, then settled into engineering and didn’t seem inclined to leave, and mission medical Dr. Tony Symonds, who was in sickbay. Probably triple checking everyone’s physicals, psyche evals, and immunizations, Jeb thought. The remainder of the crew, the techs, nurses, and pilots, were also aboard and doing their jobs with practiced smoothness.
"Houston, are we green to launch?" he asked.
"Affirmative, Proteus. Launch in T-minus ten minutes."
"I’m comin’ for you, Don, man," Jeb murmured, which earned him a level stare from Joyce. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" he asked.
"...No, sir." The comms officer turned back to her work. Operations on the bridge continued smoothly.
The count neared five minutes. Jeb tensed involuntarily, trying not to think of everything that could go wrong, but doing it anyway. The engines could explode, the Sedition could have planted a bomb or a computer virus, or …
Keenan touched his commanding officer on the elbow. "It’ll be fine, sir," he said quietly, reassuringly. "The Sedition’s been quiet lately -"
"I’ve fought them long enough to know that’s only the calm before the storm, Callahan. Those are determined SOBs." Jeb kept his voice equally quiet.
"Major, to their minds, we’re just a bunch of idiots trying to rescue dead people. It works to the Sedition’s advantage to let us leave, sir."
Jeb sighed, impressed by Keenan’s confidence. "Thanks, Callahan. I hope you’re right."
The man grinned. "No problem, sir."
The count wound down. Keenan issued standard orders, basically "everybody strap in and do your jobs." Jeb forced himself to relax at his command station, strapped himself securely in.
10
Keenan took the seat next to him and strapped himself in.
9
"Engineering reports ready," Joyce reported calmly.
8
"Medical reports ready," Joyce said.
7
"Good luck, Proteus," General Hess said over the comm. 9;
6
"Bridge crew ready." Joyce’s voice stayed cool and even.
5
Jeb closed his eyes. "Ready," he told himself.9;
4
"Exit vector confirmed. All clear."9;
"Does she have to be so calm?" Jeb asked himself.9;
3
2
1
Jeb felt the drive systems hum beneath him, and felt the force of liftoff, but he kept his eyes firmly closed until the Proteus was in space. Then, he opened them. Addressing the pilots, he said, "Lock on to the Jupiter 2’s hyperspace trail. Let’s start this chase."
*****
9;
"The Proteus has launched, Tank."
9;
"Lock on. Prepare for tracking hyperjump." Tank was relaxed, in his element even with the new technology of the hyperspace guidance and tracking systems, doing what he did best. "Crowe, alert all non-bridge crewmembers."9;
"Aye, Tank." The comm officer’s hands danced across his console.
9;
The Sedition crew moved smoothly and silently. White-haired Spike presided over tactical, looking ready to move at any instant. Tank’s second-in-command, Darlene, watched Ops and Helm, overseeing their nameless operators with an iron fist.
9;
Tank listened with half an ear as Crowe warned engineering of the imminent hyperspace jump.9;
"I know we’re gonna jump!" screamed Paler in engineering. "What d’you think we’re doing down here, anyway?! Knitting doilies?!"
9;
"I was ordered to alert all non-bridge personnel, Paler, and that’s what I’m doing," Crowe replied coldly. 9;
"Inform us? I’ll inform you, you bureaucratic-" Crowe cut off the transmission as Spike snickered. 9;
"Something funny, Spike?" Crowe asked.
9;
"Yeah. Do you think of warning Paler as prep for warning Grey, or do you go by a map?" 9;
"Map." 9;
"You’re no fun. Weapons check complete, Tank. All offensive systems are operating at 100%, as are defensive systems." Spike grinned. 9;
Tank only nodded. 9;
"Bridge to Sickbay," Crowe said. 9;
"Grey. What?" 9;
"We’ll be jumping soon, Doctor. Are you ready?" 9;
"Yes. Tell Tank that he is not to leap about the bridge like a gazelle on steroids. He is to strap himself in and be still. There is no conclusive evidence that hyperspace is harmless to cybernetics," Alicia Grey answered, then cut transmission on her end.
9;
Fighting back one of his rare grins, Crowe said, "You got that, Tank?" 9;
"Yeah, I got it." Tank’s good left eye, his real one, narrowed. "Where’s Akira?"
9;
"Everywhere, boss, like always. Thought you knew that" the ship’s artificial intelligence (AI) responded after a short delay. "And everything’s A-OK and ready to go."
9;
"If you’re everywhere, why did it take you so long to respond?" Tank asked, strapping himself in. To a computer as advanced as an AI, any delay was a long one.
9;
"...I’m not telling you." 9;
Tank sighed internally. AIs had a reputation in the Sedition as being quirky and difficult to work with, and Akira was often worse than most. But an AI did manage a ship better and faster than a standard computer.
9;
"Our navigation and drive systems are slaved to the Proteus’s, Tank," Darlene reported from Ops, speaking up for the first time. "We’ll jump when they jump, where they jump."
9;
"Thanks, Darlene." 9;
"Just in time, too. They’re powering up their hyperdrive."9;
Tank nodded. "Now the fun begins." 9;
Jump***** 9;
Time froze on the Proteus. Anything not fastened down somehow floated and hung in midair. When the Proteus burst back into normal space, everything jolted back into motion. Jeb groaned, along with a couple of the others on the bridge crew. "That was... unexpected," he said, shaking his head to clear it.
9;
Keenan walked over from Ops, seemingly unaffected by the hyperspace jump. "Major, sensors report that we are in standard orbit around a planet. The planet reads with a small amount of lifesigns and a breathable atmosphere."
9;
"Habitable?" 9;
"Barely, sir. An analysis of the planet’s orbit and distance from its sun indicates that it probably has low temperatures year round. Ops estimates the summer high temperature to be about 15.5 degrees Celsius, or about 60 degrees Fahrenheit."
9;
Jeb nodded. "Lieutenant Marius, hail the planet in all known languages and in all military and civilian frequencies."
9;
"Aye, sir." Joyce put through the hails. "No response, sir." 9;
"Keep trying." 9;
Suddenly, the ship rocked like it had been hit. "What was that?" Jeb demanded.
"What hit us?"
9;
Trevor at Ops shook his head violently. "It reads from the impact as a small asteroid, sir, but the sensors show no such fields in their range." 9;
"I want a definitive classification!" Jeb ordered. The ship was hit twice more. "Lieutenant Marius, put me through to engineering!" The Proteus rocked as yet another "asteroid" hit it.
9;
"Aye, sir." Joyce’s usually calm voice shook. 9;
"Rafe, what’s going on?" Jeb yelled over the din of even more impacts.9;
"I don’t know, Major, but it’s getting worse. I fit doesn’t stop, we’ll have to abandon ship."
9;
"It doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of stopping anytime soon. Walker out." Jeb turned to Keenan. "Options, Callahan?"9;
"We’re too big to land safely on the planet, sir, but the lifepods stand a chance. I strongly advise abandoning ship before any lives are lost." He glanced out the front view at the planet floating in empty space. "Better safe than sorry."
9;
Jeb sighed. "Damage report, Marius."9;
The comm officer looked at her readout. "There’s surface damage to viewports all over the ship and on all decks. Deck five has been evacuated due to a hull breach. Sickbay reports minor equipment failure and some breakage, and engineering-" Joyce turned to stare at Jeb with wide eyes. "Engineering reports near total drive failure. We have power, but not enough to go anywhere. We can’t move, sir."
9;
Jeb swore under his breath. "All right. Let me talk to everyone." Joyce’s hands flew across her console. "Attention all hands. This is Major Jeb Walker. Abandon ship! I repeat, abandon ship!"
9;
By the time Jeb finished his message, Keenan was already herding the bridge crew off the bridge. Jeb took one last look at it before following them, muttering, "I’m still comin’, Don."*****
9;
"What the hell is this?!" Tank demanded.
9;
"An asteroid field without the asteroids," Spike responded. "How novel."
9;
"I’m picking up some odd gravity readings, Tank," Darlene said. "They’re consistent with current black hole theory, but much weaker. They might be causing this storm, but I can’t see any source for the readings."
9;
"Thanks for the science lesson, Darlene," Tank snapped. "What about the Proteus?" 9;
"They’ve abandoned," Darlene answered. "Several of the pods have collided with whatever it is that’s bombarding us and exploded."
9;
"Maybe it’s a planetary defense system?" Spike wondered. 9;
"At this point, I don’t care." Tank frowned. "Crowe, get me engineering." 9;
"What? What? I’m busy!" Paler responded. 9;
"What’s going on down there, Paler?" asked Tank.
9;
"What’s going on down here? What’s going on down here! I’ll tell you what’s going on down here! It’s a bloody barbecue, that’s what! It’s the mouth of hell! My staff, all two of them, are crispy critters! That’s what’s happening down here!"
9;
"I meant do we still have a drive system." Tank’s fists were clenched and he counted to ten silently. 9;
"Yeah, for all the damn good that bloody does us -" 9;
Tank reached past Crowe and cut the transmission. Paler was an exhausting person to listen to. "Darlene, land us on the planet. We’ll make repairs there."
9;
"Yes, Tank." 9;
A few moments later, the Crusader slammed into the planet’s atmosphere, throwing its occupants around severely. Consoles sparked and exploded. 9;
"Y’know, Darlene, sweetheart, I don’t think this is landing," remarked Spike as his own Tactical display exploded. "I think this is more crashing, don’t you?"
9;
"No, really?" she snarled, holding on to the Ops chair for support. 9;
"Everyone shut up and brace for impact!" bellowed Tank. The ground rushed up to meet the ship, and the Crusader slammed into the ground. There were a few moments of nothing, then Tank picked himself up off the floor. His cybereye was not working, and some of the circuitry in his leg was torn out. Otherwise, he was fine, with only some dull pain that experience told him would become bruising later.
9;
With his one remaining eye, he surveyed the wrecked bridge. Crowe half-across his console in a position neither nature nor engineering put him in. His eyes were glassy and his right arm dangled crazily off his shoulder by a few wires. Ops and the helm were still manned, by the corpses of their nameless operators. Darlene lay near them, still alive, but curled around a vicious burn in her belly. Tactical was buried under a pile of glass and pieces of the ceiling.
9;
The pile moved suddenly and Spike squirmed out. "Finally! Thought I’d never get out of there. Hi, Tank." Spike’s short white hair was streaked with red in a few places, but his silver eyes were clear.
9;
"Darlene’s injured. Go find Grey." 9;
"Aren’t Comms working?"9;
Tank looked pointedly at Crowe’s body. "I’m not going to check." 9;
"Point taken. I’m a memory." Spike started towards the door when it opened, and Grey walked in, completely unmussed and uninjured and carrying her ever-present medical bag over one shoulder. Spike shook his head admiringly. "How do you do it, Doc? We crash, there are more dead than alive, and you don’t even have to reapply your makeup!"
9;
"I don’t wear makeup," she told him absently. She looked at Tank. "You knew I’d survived. I’d like to know how. For all you knew, Tank Cohen, I was blown up or electrocuted or-" 9;
"Whoa! Got the imagery." Spike flinched. "Very...nice. Why are all you medics so morbid?"
9;
Grey ignored him, knelt by Darlene, setting her medical bag beside her. With no apparent shock or disgust, she pulled the Crusader’s first officer into a straight prone position, blithely ignoring her shrieks of agony.
"Hm," the doctor mused. "Third-degree burning and shrapnel embedded over the abdominal region, ...would you not scream, please, Darlene? It makes things so difficult...fine, if that’s the way you feel. To continue. Burns, shrapnel, massive system shock..."
With one hand, she dug around in her bag until she came up with two small glass bottles and a syringe. She glanced briefly at the bottles, then filled the syringe with the part of contents of one of them.
Offhandedly, Grey said, "Even with an entire sickbay at my disposal, which I no longer have, your chance of survival is only about 20%, Darlene. So this is better, yes?" She injected Darlene.
9;
Darlene jerked a few times, then lay perfectly still. Spike asked, "Out of curiosity, what were her chances as is, Grey?"
9;
"Worse than 20%, but better than Paler. So, Tank, how did you know?" 9;
"You’ve stated often enough that you’re smarter than the rest of us. I figured you’d just think of a way out of dying." Spike snickered, which earned him a glare from both commander and doctor. Tank continued, "Paler’s dead?’
9;
"He is now." Grey abandoned Darlene’s body and turned her attention to Tank’s cybernetics.9;
Tank sighed. "That means no engineers. It’s going to take a very long time for any of us to learn enough engineering to even begin to make repairs."
9;
"It might take you a long time. I have a certain background with mechanical things." Abruptly Tank’s cybereye flared to life. "Better?"9;
"Yeah, thanks." 9;
"Didn’t the Proteus life pods land fairly nearby?" Spike asked. "Maybe one of their engineers survived."
9;
"Sure, Spike. We’ll just go up to them and say, ‘hi, we’re your mortal enemies, can we borrow an engineer?’" Tank scoffed. 9;
"It could work," Grey said. She knelt again and started rewiring Tank’s leg.
"Barter is not yet dead. If their medic didn’t survive, we could offer my work." 9;
"Grey, maybe you didn’t catch the subtle gist of my plan, but they’re supposed to help us!" Spike laughed. 9;
"Do you have a better idea? And even if one of us could fix the Crusader, none of us can fly it."
9;
"I could," Spike protested. "I know I could. Man, one wreck and I’m branded for life!" 9;
"Knock it off, you two. Grey’s right, Spike. We don’t have a choice. Her medical skills for an engineer. If that doesn’t work out, we’ll play it be ear."
9;
Grey stood and brushed herself off. "What a change from the norm." 9;
"Put something in your bag besides a tool kit, painkillers, and your sleeping potion, Grey. And I do expect you both to arm yourselves."
9;
Grey nodded. "Have I told you lately how much I love it when you tell me how to do my job, Tank?" She spun on her heel and left, stepping over Crowe’s body without a second glance. 9;
"What are the odds she’ll forget to get herself a gun?" Tank asked.
9;
Spike laughed. "You’re kidding, right? She keeps one in her bag. In case the ‘sleeping potion’ doesn’t work."***** 9;
Mercifully, the Proteus life pods that made it to the planet’s surface without getting blown up all crashed within a few hundred feet of each other.
9;
Jeb stumbled out of his, convinced that he was the only survivor. It had taken every ounce of his piloting skill to land as well as he had, that being with the pod in one piece.9;
Which was why he was surprised to see Rafe McMonigle walking towards him form one of the other pods. Rafe seemed all right, except for a limp and some scratches. "Nice landing, Major!" he called.
9;
"You too, Rafe. Any landing you can walk away from is a good one in this situation. Any body else?"
9;
Rafe bit his lip. "No, sir. Not yet. But I haven’t checked all the pods yet.’9;
"How many made it down?" 9;
"Twelve, including yours and mine, sir. I’ve got two more to check." He paused. "Callahan... Callahan didn’t make it down, sir. I saw his pod explode, along with Dr. Symonds’s pod. They stayed back to make sure everyone else made it off."
9;
Jeb nodded sadly.
"Thanks, Rafe." He sighed. "Any other medics make it down?"9;
"I found one...I think. I couldn’t be sure who it was, really. I haven’t found any others. But there are still those two pods."
9;
"Let’s go check them, then." 9;
The two men left, crossing to the next pod. The planet’s landscape was barren, with little vegetation and no overt animal life. It was cold, and the slight wind bit at them with sharp teeth.
9;
The next pod had barely enough left in one piece to be called a pod at all. There was no obvious body. "This is the third one like this. If more had made it down, I might have been able to guess at who it was, but as is...." He shook his head and sighed sadly. "Seventeen dead so far, sir."
9;
"One pod left. Prepare to add one to that number." 9;
"You don’t know that, sir," Rafe said. "There’s one pod left."9;
"Let’s go, then."
9;
The last pod was better; it was only broken in half. Rafe looked it over, walking around it slowly. "This broke on impact, Major."
"And that means what?" 9;
"That means," Rafe sighed, "that we can identify the body."9;
"I’m not a body quite yet, Lieutenant McMonigle," a weak-sounding voice said from the pod. "Although I wouldn’t swear to anything after the day this has been."
9;
"Marius? That you, Lieutenant?" asked Jeb.9;
"It was when I got up this morning, sir," she answered. "Could you two help me get out of here? I’m stuck and I think my arm is broken."
9;
"We’ll be careful," Jeb promised. He and Rafe started removing pieces of the pod. Soon it was in as many pieces as the previous one had been, and Joyce had been released. Rafe supported her back to Jeb’s pod, since it was intact and had usable emergency supplies.
9;
"My arm is broken, not my leg, Lieutenant," she said to Rafe. He just shrugged.9;
"We’ll camp here until we can figure a way off this planet," Jeb decided.
"Right now, though, I’ll go check the other pods for usable supplies.
9;
"Or not," said a voice from behind them. Jeb, Joyce, and Rafe turned nearly as one to face a group of three newcomers, each with a laser rifle pointed at them. They were an odd group, Jeb thought. There were two men, one very big and about half machine, the other smaller and light, with white hair and silver eyes like coins. The third was a red-haired woman with a black bag slung over one shoulder.
9;
"See, Tank," the white-haired man said excitedly. "I told you they’d be at the most intact pod. Score one for security!’
9;
"Yeah, you called it," said the big man. Then he addressed Jeb and his crew. "Any of you an engineer?"9;
"Sedition!" Joyce hissed. "They must be! You shot at us and forced us to abandon ship-!"
9;
"We didn’t shoot anybody down," snapped the white-haired man. "We got shot down. Literally. At least your ship is still up in orbit." 9;
"Shut up, Spike," The big man...Tank...ordered. "Are any of you an engineer?" 9;
Rafe glanced at Joyce’s arm. "That depends. Any of you a doctor?"9;
Ignoring Spike’s warning glare, the redhead answered, "I am."
"Then I am. What do you need?" 9;
"Just like that?" asked Tank skeptically. "What’s the catch?" 9;
"My comrade over there gets medical help."
9;
"No, Rafe!" Joyce cried. "My arm will heal! Major, do something besides just sit there!"9;
Tank ignored her. "Our ship needs repair." 9;
"A lot of repair," added Spike. 9;
"Repairing a ship that’s mostly foreign technology is a pretty tall order, more than a broken arm. Don’t you have your own engineer?"
;
"They, uh, died in the crash," Tank said, studiously not looking at the redhead. He waved his hand slightly and the other two lowered their weapons. 9;
"Even if Rafe fixes your ship," Jeb said suddenly, "the fix wouldn’t be permanent."
9;
"Permanent enough." 9;
Jeb ticked items off on his fingers. "You could crash again, run into a Space Force ship, run into a rival Sedition ship, get hit by another singularity. There are any number of ways for you to lose your ship again. Engine failure-"
9;
"Okay, okay! We get the picture!" said Spike, exasperated. "Get to the point!" 9;
"Here’s the deal. Take it or leave it. We help you fix the ship. We go with you when you leave, as part of the crew, not prisoners."
9;
"Oh, no, no, no," moaned Joyce. "I’m either dead or insane. I did not just hear my commanding officer offer to make a deal with the Sedition. I did not!" 9;
"Are you offering to make a deal with us?" Tank asked.
9;
"How novel," Spike said. 9;
"You have a ship, but no engineer to keep it running. We have an engineer with nothing to do. Seems like a deal begging to be made to me." 9;
"That’s what I thought you were suggesting," Tank said. "Spike? Grey?"
9;
"You’re in command, Tank. I’ll go with what you decide," Spike replied.
"You’ve gotten us this far." 9;
"I see no options," said Grey. "If we want off this planet, we must agree." She looked around. "And if we don’t get off this planet, we will all freeze. It’s cold now, and it will only get colder."
9;
Tank sighed. "Then we accept." He gestured at his comrades. "My security chief, Spike, and our medic, Dr. Alicia Grey." 9;
"I’ve got an idea, Major Walker." Joyce interrupted, eyes blazing. "We can kill them and take their ship!"
9;
"Lieutenant, that’s enough. I am commander of this mission. I’ve decided." He held a hand out to the Sedition commander. "I’m Major Jeb Walker. That’s my comms officer, Lieutenant Joyce Marius, and my chief engineer Lieutenant Rafe McMonigle."
9;
"Everybody calls me Rafe."9;
Spike grinned at Joyce. "I’m in security, Lieutenant, and if you cause trouble I can break you in two. Okay? I think that’s the way the standard warning goes, isn’t it, Doc?" 9;
"I’m a doctor, not an etiquette counselor." Grey knelt by Joyce, who squirmed away and tried to hide her broken arm. "Don’t move. If you do, I may end up compounding the damage rather than repairing it. Just hold still." Grey took hold of Joyce’s arm and used supplies from her bag to brace it. Jeb, watching, had to admit that the Sedition medic was good, albeit a trifle rough. Grey stood back up. "There. That will do until I can get a proper cast on you."
9;
Joyce bit back a scream. "That hurt!" 9;
"Of course. Your arm is broken. Did you hit your head as well?"
9;
Joyce looked daggers at the doctor. "You are never touching me again." 9;
Grey shrugged. "You knew it hurt. I have no sympathy." 9;
"All right, then," Tank said. "We’ll take you to the Crusader." He walked off, away from the pods’ crash sites, closely followed by Grey and Spike. Jeb, Joyce, and Rafe followed them, Rafe hovering near Joyce and trying to help her along.
9;
"Doesn’t have much of a bedside manner, does she?" he asked. 9;
"Try none at all," Joyce answered acidly.
9;
The Crusader was an ... interesting sight. It looked as though it had been cobbled together from pieces of other ships and was held together by nothing much. "Is it... supposed to look like that?" Rafe asked.
9;
"Look like what?" Spike appraised the ship. "Looks fine to me. The mess is all on the inside."
9;
"That! Is it supposed to look like that? It looks like it was designed by a drunk abstract sculptor! Did it even fly in the first place?"
9;
"Oh, yeah, it flew. Better than your ship, evidently."
9;
"All right. Since it’s getting fairly late... at least I think it is... Tank can give Lieutenant Marius and I a quick tour of the ship and the bridge. Spike and Dr. Grey can show Rafe engineering."
9;
"Not me," said Grey. "I have some things I need to do."
9;
"Can they wait?" asked Tank.
9;
"Not very long, no." She left.
9;
"That’s our Doc," chuckled Spike. "Gotta love her way with people." He beckoned to Rafe and walked inside the ship. "Aren’t you glad she’s not a psychiatrist?"
9;
Rafe followed him whit a slightly trapped expression.
9;
"I’d like to apologize for Grey," Tank said, leading the way to the crew’s quarters. "She’s primarily a combat medic and she an unusually low empathy rating. Neither of which helps her connect with people."
9;
"I’d say she’s in the wrong profession, then," said Jeb.
9;
Tank laughed. "I’ve learned to ignore her quirks. She’s one of the best medics in the Sedition."
9;
"If she’s the best I’d hate to see the worst," sniffed Joyce. Tank, once again, ignored her.
9;
"These are the crew quarters. You three pretty much have your pick of what’s here. Engineering is two decks down, Sickbay is one deck down. I don’t advise going to Sickbay unless you need to. It’s Grey’s own little world down there, and it can be very strange to people not used to it. One deck up is the bridge, and that’s where we’re going now."
9;
They climbed up to the bridge. Tank pointed out the various consoles. "That’s the helm, on the right side of the viewscreen. On the right side is Ops, where we control ship conditions and analyze data from scans. Scans are done over here at Comms, which is the console just slightly back from Ops and Helm. In dead center is the command station, which has emergency communication and also the self-destruct systems. In the back, under the pile, is Tactical." He paused.
"It’s been a while since I was on a standard ship, so I don’t know how the Space Force does it, but in the Sedition, the pilot does not control offensive or defensive systems. It’s too risky...wait just a minute." Tank’s expression was forbidding as he crossed over to Comms. "Cohen to Sickbay."
9;
"Grey here. What?"
9;
"What happened to the bodies?" Tank’s voice was deceptively mild.
9;
"...Bodies?" 9;
9;
"Yes, the bodies!" Tank snapped. "Darlene, Crowe, those two...whoever they were! What happened to them?"
9;
"Oh, that." Grey’s voice conveyed levels of disdain. "Why are you asking me about that? I took them, of course. They are in cold storage until I decide what to do with them."
9;
"You will warn me before you do that next time, Doctor. That is a direct order!"
9;
"Yes, Tank."
9;
"Get to engineering and help Spike out." Tank cut off the transmission. "I hate it when she does things like that without telling me. It has a habit of coming around and pounding me when I’m not looking."
*****
9;
In engineering, Rafe was wandering around, fascinated by the technology. Spike and Grey watched him. Grey positively radiated fury, and Spike was trying to placate her.
9;
"You know he hates it when you do that," Spike said. "It makes him feel like he doesn’t have any control."
9;
"He doesn’t."
9;
"What are you going to do with them, anyway? Just out of curiosity."
9;
"I don’t know yet."
9;
//Ooo. Do I get a vote//
9;
Rafe’s head jerked up from the readout he was studying. "What was that?"
9;
//I’m a who, not a what. I’m Akira, the Crusader’s artificial intelligence//
9;
"You’re the ship’s computer?"
9;
//No. I’m the ship’s artificial intelligence// The oddly human voice spoke slowly, as if speaking to a dull child.
9;
"Behave, Akira. He’s new," Spike rebuked.
9;
//Sorry, Spike//
9;
"I’m an engineer," said Rafe by way of introduction.
9;
//I hope you don’t yell as much as the last one did//
9;
"Can you tell me exactly what needs repairing?"
9;
//Absolutely. Main drive’s fine, hyperdrive isn’t. Hyperspace guidance is dust, but the tracker can be repaired. Tactical needs repair, Sickbay’s okay because the doctor has been usurping your purview-//
9;
"I have not."
9;
//You have so. Comms are up, Helm is trashed, Ops is up (obviously), and everything else is up//
9;
"Not bad for a crash," said Spike.
9;
//Thank you//
9;
"I’ll start with he Helm, then, Akira. Thank you," Rafe said politely.
9;
//Oh, I like him, Spike. Can we keep him? You are very welcome, engineer//
9;
"Call me Rafe. What’s the time estimate on the Helm repairs, Akira?"
9;
//One engineer...big system...big trashed system... one or two months at least to get all the bugs out. Weapons and defense systems will take longer, and I won’t leave the system without them//
9;
"Why not?"
9;
//Would you leave a safe place when you knew you were defenseless away from it? I won’t// The AI went silent.
9;
"Akira? Akira!" Rafe called.
9;
"He won’t answer, Rafe," Grey said. "He shut off his voice-recognition systems."
9;
"In other words, he’s pouting in a corner," said Spike. "He’s not used to having his will questioned. Once he gets over it, you and he will get along fine. It took him two months before he would even talk to Paler."
9;
"Akira is a computer!" protested Rafe. "It doesn’t really care about its survival. It’s got some sophisticated programming, true, but that doesn’t change it."
9;
Spike shrugged. "Whatever you want to think. But if Akira decides the ship won’t leave the system, it won’t leave the system."
9;
"You’re implying that Akira has some sort of self-preservation program? How does that work?"
9;
"Something for you to discuss with it later, Rafe," Jeb interrupted from the doorway. "For now, we should all turn in for the night. Tomorrow is early enough to start serious work."
*****
9; 9;
Later, Jeb stood by the command station on the bridge of the Crusader, looking out at the alien stars through the viewscreen. He was thinking, trying to come to terms with how much his life had changed in less than a month.
9;
"Get lost, Major?" a voice asked behind him. Tank.
9;
"Did you?" he responded with an edge.
9;
"The Crusader’s my ship. Of course not. If you didn’t get lost, what are you doing up here? Nervous, maybe?
9;
"Nervous? About what?"
9;
"About this! We’re enemies, your crew and mine. It’s insanity or at least foolishness to believe that everything will work out wonderfully, that there won’t be any problems." The Seditionist snorted. "And the worst problems will come after we get back to human civilization. I doubt your superiors will look kindly on this arrangement.’
9;
"Extenuating circumstances. I can explain the situation and things will be fine on my end. I might end up court-martialed, but the others will be fine. What about you? The Global Sedition doesn’t strike me as the most merciful group when things go wrong."
9;
Tank didn’t answer, but the soft whirs and clicks of his cybernetics indicated he was still in the room. "What will you do, Jeb Walker?" he asked finally, in such a subdued tone Jeb almost didn’t recognize the voice. He turned to face the big cyborg across the command station. "What will you do when we reach Alpha Prime and your United Global Space Force still has control of things? Or when we meet another ship?" The cyborg asked. "What happens then, Major?"
9;
"I don’t know," Jeb answered honestly. "I guess I’ll just have to take things as they come." Tank nodded slowly. "What about you, Tank? If our positions are reversed and the Sedition is in control? What will you do?"
9;
The dull lighting of the bridge at night glinted off Tank’s metal arm and leg, making him look strange and alien. The cyborg smiled. "I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it, Walker."
9;
Jeb smiled back and faced the viewscreen again, stared at the stars. "Yes... we both will."
