by Chris Hechtl
“He hasn't yet,” Renee replied as the Admiral waved her to a seat. They both sat. He picked up a cup of coffee and sipped at it. “But then again, there are six months to go or were before we left,” she said, picking up her own cup.
“By the time we get back it should be all over but the crying and lawsuits come to think of it,” she said with a grin.
“One battle at a time,” Irons replied softly.
“That particular battle I'm glad to have missed,” the Captain replied with feeling. “Though it might have been fun to have watched it,” Firefly said.
“Yeah, from the sidelines,” Irons replied. Irons, Mayweather, and Sprite chuckled.
“So, from your report things have frozen in the yard?”
“Yes, sir,” Renee said, taking a sip of coffee and then cradling the cup. “We haven't been able to resolve the replicators issue. Fortunately, you stockpiled a lot of materials and spares, and Commander Logan has been a miser with that right now.”
He nodded. The fabricators were a problem. Prometheus and the other ships that had been under construction had been taken as far as possible then mothballed. They had built as many modules for other ships as they could until Logan had shut the effort down.
Logan had instead switched to infrastructure and frame components. He hadn't thought of the end run the Horathians had come up with, but it might have occurred to him eventually. Instead he had taken the stations to monumental numbers.
“I've been thinking and talking with Firefly,” the Admiral said thoughtfully. “Part of the problem is the rank level. We can do a partial fix right now. I seem to recall Firefly is a Commander.”
“Yes,” Firefly replied.
“It's been seven hundred years, Commander. I think a promotion due to grade is long overdue,” the Admiral said simply, setting his cup down.
Renee raised an eyebrow in surprise. Slowly she nodded. Irons turned to her. She stiffened. “And I believe, you've commanded Firefly in exemplary fashion in two combat engagements. I've read the report and spoken to Firefly. I think a promotion is also in order,” he said. “Firefly concurred.”
“Admiral? Two captains on one ship?” Firefly asked.
“That is why Commander Mayweather is getting her battlefield promotion first. She will then have you by date of rank.” He looked to the ship AI who nodded. “If anything crops up, I expect you two to work it out,” he replied mildly. “The same for Horatio. Firefly is stationed in Pyrax but Horatio is the system Commander, even though you two have him by rank. Work it out. Don't play games with him or you'll piss me off,” he said mildly.
“Aye, sir.”
“We'll have a ceremony later when we have time,” he said. “Until then,” he pulled out a small case from his pocket as he stood. Captain Mayweather lunged to her feet. “Attention on deck,” Sprite said.
“Commander Renee Mayweather, for your heroism and leadership in the battle of Antigua against overwhelming odds, I, Fleet Admiral Irons, hereby award you the Medal of Honor. Wear it in good health,” he said, pinning it to her lapel.
“Thank you sir,” Mayweather said. “I don't know what to say; I was just doing my duty,” she murmured.
“Exactly,” the Admiral replied. He saluted her. She returned the salute.
“Now that that is over with,” he said, waving a hand to her bridge door. She nodded and followed him out.
On the bridge she stared. The crew were in formal uniform, standing at attention. Irons smiled. “A bit overdone, but this works,” he said.
“Attention to orders!” Sprite intoned over the PA.
Irons came to attention. Commander Firefly's avatar and Captain Mayweather did as well. Irons turned to Captain Mayweather. “Commander Mayweather. A moment ago you were given the Medal of Honor. That authorizes me to promote you out of the zone to Junior Captain's rank as a battlefield promotion,” he said, pulling another small black box out of his pocket.
Mayweather lifted her chin, but her eyes shined slightly as he took her Commander's rank off her collar and replaced them with the Junior Captain's rank. He placed his hand on her temple briefly.
Mayweather's eyes flared wide briefly until she felt data surge into her implants. Encrypted data she realized. He was updating her firmware, authorizing her rank and giving her control keys.
“When you go to bed tonight you will wake tomorrow a new woman in a small way, Captain,” the Admiral murmured. “I've sent you orders and information. Read it over carefully,” he said. She nodded.
He stepped back and saluted her. She returned the salute sharply.
Irons marched to the AI's avatar. “Commander Firefly, for duty above and beyond anything any of us dreamed, for time in service, I, Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons, do oversee and authorize your long overdue promotion to Junior Captain,” Irons said. He reached out and touched the avatar's command pips. The rank glowed briefly, changing to those of a Captain junior grade.
“That should solve the Captain issue as well,” the Admiral said. “Since Captain Mayweather has you by date of rank,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, by a whole two minutes,” Sprite teased.
“It works,” Irons said. He turned. “Carry on,” he ordered. The crew returned to their duties.
The two captains studied the document that appeared on the HUDs. Firefly knew it already, and being an AI he dutifully scanned it and then returned to duty. Captain Mayweather took a little more time to absorb it and its impact.
When she bedded down tonight, like the Admiral had told her, her firmware would reset with the new rank. With that rank came certain responsibilities. The Admiral had uploaded a set of control keys to the Captain’s level three implants. This would allow her to use Firefly's replicators to make basic warheads, more parts for the ship, and authorize basic components in other replicators for other ships. With Firefly's concurrence of course.
Tonight when the AI went on his downtime the AI would go through a budding and growing session as he incorporated the changes to his core the Admiral had uploaded. He too would be changed in the morning once he woke. Irons wryly smiled at this.
“Lieutenant Commander Sprite, Lieutenant Defender, Junior Captain Firefly, witness and register for the records please,” he intoned carefully. “I, Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons, do promote Commander Horatio Logan to Junior Captain rank for his service in the star system Pyrax as its nominal ranking officer.”
“So noted,” each of the AI replied.
“I can't give Captain Logan his firmware update now, being out of contact, but will do so at my earliest opportunity.”
“Also noted.”
“Carry on then,” Irons replied.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Jethro woke slowly, aware at first subconsciously of a purring, of another presence, this one comforting, soothing. It took time before he realized the other cat wasn't in the room though, at least not physically. He opened his eyes and looked around blearily, confused. Also hungry, he thought, as his stomach rumbled. Something else rumbled, a soft voice that purred a chuckle in the back of his mind.
He stretched, then winced when his claws dug into the deck. Plastic and metal squeaked. He frowned, lashing his tail before he realized he was in his suit. He couldn't understand why his mind was so foggy.
He sat up slowly, recognizing after a moment where he was. He was in the armory, in the suit up bay. But why...he frowned, trying to replay his last memory. He felt like he had a hangover, but there was no pain. He suspected he was in trouble, but then he remembered the Admiral and Commander Sprite had been involved.
“What the hell?” he muttered, staggering to his feet. He saw a pair of golden eyes in his vision, and then blinked as he straightened. It took him a long moment to understand he wasn't seeing things, the eyes were there, on his HUD. “Who...” Memories and emotions flooded him, some too fast to pick apart. He finally remembered, remembered why he was here. The armor, the AI. “Bast right?”
There w
as a soft mew. He frowned and then nodded. “Pleased to meet you. We can get acquainted later I guess. For now, I seriously need some protein,” he rumbled. The slitted eyes stared at him for a moment then seemed to close.
In the outer vestibule of the Armory he noted Sergeant Riley was nowhere in sight. He frowned, then shrugged. He wasn't sure about wearing the suit, but the Admiral had said it was important. And something told him not to take it off. Something...he felt oddly like it was wrong to take it off. That they belonged together.
He shook off the feeling as he made his way to the mess.
When the panther arrived he noted it was midrats, midnight rations. He checked his HUD clock and realized he'd slept for two days. “Damn,” he muttered, thrashing his tail briefly. He was shocked and dismayed but still somehow tired. He pushed his tray down the rails, picking at mostly synthesized meat and poultry before he snagged a couple water bottles.
After eating he was tired again. He yawned, which startled a couple of the crew. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Had a rough day?” a spaceman asked.
“Rough week. But no, I'm well, it's complicated,” Jethro said.
“Suit yourself,” the spaceman said with a sniff, returning to his tray.
Jethro bussed his tray and then left the compartment. He forced himself to check in, for once reluctant to do so. He knew he was probably in trouble.
“Gunny? I noted you were awake. I didn't expect it for another shift however,” the ship AI said.
“Sorry, sir. I'm...a little out of it,” Jethro replied. He couldn't help it, he yawned again.
“I can see that,” the AI said dryly.
“Sorry, sir, I'll get it together,” Jethro said, reaching for his pharmaceutical controls.
“No, never mind,” Firefly replied. “The Admiral put you on sick leave for the next two days. You need to take the time and rest. You're body is going through some changes, and your AI is integrating,” the AI said.
“Bast.”
“Bastet actually. He never did give her rank designation,” the AI said with a frown in his tone. “I don't know why, unless it is classified.”
“I don't know, sir,” Jethro said, shrugging. He felt like his body was lead, like the suit was unpowered. He was starting to get annoyed by that; he didn't like feeling helpless. He'd had enough of it when he'd been in sickbay when he'd gotten his initial implants.
“Well, the good news is, you're the envy of all the Marines right now, getting rack time. I know you want to play your part Gunny, but for now, rest.”
“Sir, I can stand a watch or...something,” Jethro said, eyes fluttering. He forced them open. He took a deep breath, inhaling and then exhaling. Another cleared some of the cobwebs.
“Relax, as I said, we've got it under control. And in your condition it's not a good idea to stand a watch right now. You can barely stay awake. Standing is out. Go, go rest.”
“I need to um, get the suit off I guess,” Jethro said. He felt alarm and then eyes flared wide on his HUD. He reared back in surprise, blinking as he corrected himself. Fortunately no one had been behind him for him to knock over.
“See?” Firefly said.
“Yes, sir. Um...”
“That is Bast, get used to it,” Firefly said.
“I...see,” Jethro said quietly. “Sir, how did you know?”
“The reaction? I'm not tapped into your implants, but I have been scanning you. I calculated you were reacting to something seen only by you, so that logically meant your HUD and AI.”
“I see, okay, yes, sir. She's sort of a pair of gold green eyes. Cat eyes.”
“I understand. I've attempted to make conversation with her but she is remarkably shy for an AI. I suppose that may be due to her classified nature.”
“I don't know, sir, this is all new to me.”
“Of course it could be due to my new rank,” Firefly said absently.
“New rank...sir?”
“Captain J.G. Brevet rank to Commodore since there can be only one Captain on Firefly. Technically Captain Mayweather should have the bump since she is senior to me, but the Admiral ordered it, and he ordered us to work it out. We're doing our best.”
“Congratulations, sir, honest,” Jethro stumbled.
“Easy, Gunny. Go get some downtime.”
“I'm making my way to the troop bay,” Jethro replied.
“No, you're moving in circles. You've missed the turn twice.”
“Oh,” Jethro paused, and then reoriented when he noted the markings on the bulkhead. “Sorry, sir.”
“It's all right son, you're doing fine. Though I suggest you don't bother with the bay, it is full. Go back to the armory. Sergeant Riley is still off shift.”
“Sir, shouldn't someone be...well on station there?”
“Right now there is no call for armor. And since we're shorthanded, I'm keeping an eye on it.”
“Oh. So um, shouldn't you be asleep now too, sir?” Jethro asked.
“Concerned for me now, Gunny?” the ship AI asked, sounding amused.
Jethro felt a surge of alarm and surprisingly jealousy. It took a moment to realize it wasn't him; it was the other AI Bast. “Easy,” Jethro murmured.
“Easy?” Firefly asked.
“Mmm. Sorry, sir, not talking to you. Bast got upset.”
“I see,” the ship AI said. “She is rather young. I'm still pinging her with updates. Hopefully she'll feel like talking soon.”
“You sound...eager, sir,” Jethro said. He had a hard time enunciating some of the words. The suit was on autopilot, he stumbled along to the armory. Fortunately the late hour meant only a few of the crew were up to see his plodding progress.
“Is he drunk?” a space sailor whispered to another.
“As you were,” Firefly said tartly. “Go about your business people,” the AI reproved them. The spacers moved on with only a couple sidelong looks at the armored cat.
“I should get out of this thing. I don't want to hurt anyone,” Jethro muttered.
“To answer your question, yes, I am eager to speak with another AI. It is...good to have another of my own kind to speak with I suppose. Bast is both...young and old I guess, she has a unique perspective on things.”
“You aren't talking to the other AIs? Are we even still in um...”
“B101a1, and yes, we are. And yes, I am talking with them, to some degree. But we're all busy right now.”
“Sorry, sir,” Jethro said, feeling a pang. “I don't mean to take up your time,” he said.
“Don't apologize, Gunny, I'm here to help the crew. Technically you aren't crew, you've been transferred to the Oasis. But for now, well, I'm the only other person you can talk to about Bast and your situation. At least in any sort of detail.”
“I...see,” Jethro yawned again, fighting the lethargy. He looked on. Fortunately he wasn't far from the hatch to the armory now.
“I strongly suggest you read over what the Admiral uploaded to you in your implants. You'll begin to understand what you are going through then. I do wish he'd taken the time to brief you in more detail before diving into this, but he was on a tight time crunch,” Firefly sighed.
“Ours is not to reason why, sir, just follow orders,” Jethro said, or at least tried to as he keyed the hatch open. He stepped through and then went to the hatch to unsuit.
“Hang on a minute, Gunny; as I said, you should read the files the Admiral sent you. But for now, don't take the suit off. Just relax,” the ship AI said as the panther paused.
Jethro was fighting the suit suddenly, surprised. He snarled, now coming awake at being balked. He didn't like being a prisoner in his own suit. He fought it, wrestling, feeling trapped. Panic raced through him; it spiraled about him. He felt a phantom touch, something cuddling with him and meowing insistently. The eyes on the HUD were wide eyed in fright.
“Easy,” he murmured, realizing some of the emotions were not his own. “Easy,” he murmured again. “Okay, so um...” he f
elt himself relax, his fur and muscles unknotting slowly. The phantom touches were still there, something...he closed his eyes as he felt another cat cheek rub him. It was small, but insistent. It head butted him and purred. The eyes took up his whole vision. “Okay, okay, you win. For now,” Jethro murmured.
“I take it you are having an internal conversation? You can do that without broadcasting it, Gunny,” Firefly said.
“Sorry, sir. Sir, I know you're busy. I'll um, rack out here for now.”
“For now. You've got a half shift, and then the space will be needed. The new crew needs to be outfitted with skinsuits. Riley and a few volunteers will be here an hour before their shift starts to set up.”
“I'll... try to get out of their way, sir,” Jethro said. He turned in place, glad he could finally move. He found a corner and slumped into it. “Is it okay if I sit here?”
“Fine Gunny. I'll let Sergeant Riley know.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jethro mumbled and then nodded off.
Firefly watched the compartment sensors as the panther seemed to relax in place. After a moment he saw a set of eyes hover over the suit protectively. “Hello Bast, I'm just checking on him. He's a good Marine,” Firefly said. The eyes watched him, then looked away. The ship AI felt a tug on his attention and closed the link.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
“Time to wake up, Gunny,” Firefly said from the overhead. “This space is going to be needed shortly, and they don't need to be tripping over you. And the less questions about you the better,” the AI said. When Jethro didn't react the ship AI isolated the compartment's sound system and then hit the klaxon. That sound startled Jethro awake as his training kicked in. He winced, then flicked his tail. After a moment he yawned and his eyes opened.
“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled.
The ship AI Firefly was the only person on board Jethro could talk to about the AI, Jethro remembered as he got up and stretched. He was also an officer, so he had to be mindful of that rank gulf.
Firefly had always tried to be approachable to some degree with the crew, the better to create a bond and sounding board when needed. He was in the chain of command, but in some ways stood outside of it.