Multiverse 1

by Chris Hechtl

  “I see,” Shelby replied.

  “It is in the briefing, Ma'am,” the AI said helpfully.

  “Must have missed it,” Shelby muttered. “So, they helped out with a hospital. Anything else?”

  “Educational materials most likely. A brand new radio network it seems. They come in quite clearly, and their data is sharp and clear. There unfortunately isn't a list,” the AI replied.

  “Darn. Well, we'll see what they need and what we can do,” she said.

  "It seems we can either put away the hospital supplies and equipment we've got for them and pass them on to Halced 6 then. The same for the radio network. Is there anything else we can build for them?"

  "The XO is working on that. I'll text him with a request, Captain."

  "Do that," Shelby replied. "We also need to get a handle on the stuff Io 11 built in the other systems. We need to know what we don't need to build. I don't want to waste time and resources building stuff they already have."

  "I will look into it, Ma'am," the AI replied.

  "You do that. Get back to me with what Zeb said later," she said, waving him off.

  One of the first things she did was put a call in to the Naval recruiting station. It was a small building, leased in the capital city on the main continent of Icornia. The young lieutenant was eager to hear from them. “First Lieutenant Pembroke, Ma'am, and it's good to see a familiar face.”

  It's good to see you too, Lieutenant,” Shelby said smiling. “I hear you've been telling tales out of school?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Me, Ma'am?” he asked, blinking, eyes wide and obviously taken off guard. “I'm not certain…wait, is it that dratted rumor that you'll bring the recruits back to Pyrax?” She nodded. He mouthed an obscenity, making her snort in amusement. “Sorry, Ma'am, it's just, Lieutenant Qez and I have tried to stomp it out, really we have but it keeps coming back to haunt us.”

  “Well, FYI, we're not going back to Pyrax the way we came. We're moving on,” Shelby replied. “I hear you are a medic?”

  The young man nodded. “Yes, Ma'am. I've been working with the locals here to expand on the hospital that Doctor McFile set up.”

  “Good,” Shelby said.

  “Ma'am, ever since Mariah’s Mischief dropped us off, we have been on the go. Are you here to pick us up?” he asked, sounding wary.

  “No, why?”

  He made a face. “Sorry, Ma'am, it's just that I've met someone recently,” he said. She nodded in sudden understanding.

  “Well, you will be relieved to know you are in the clear. At least for now. The next ship however may be picking you up. But, as senior officer on station, you can marry and deal with Commander Decius and the paperwork later,” she said smiling. He was indeed senior man on the planet and would be even after Bertha's passengers disembarked. If they disembarked, she reminded herself firmly.

  He made a face. Her smile turned positively mischievous. “No offense, Ma'am, but I'd rather sling mud in a Gashg tournament,” he said. She chuckled. “I seriously hate paperwork. That's why I pass it off to Qez as much as possible.

  “It's nice to be the boss,” Shelby admitted with a twinkle. “So, no, we're not taking on people. But I see there is a Moth class in orbit...”

  “She's the Beatrix Butterfly actually, Ma'am, and yes. We're trying to negotiate something with them. Unfortunately, they have been rather stubborn,” he said.

  “Well, I'll see what I can do,” she replied. “I'll put in a call when I can. Can you give me a brief? Then I'll squirt down my own. We've…had some changes,” she said.

  “I can see that Ma'am, last I heard Prometheus was still in pieces in the yard,” he replied with a nod. “Good to see her doing what she was made to do,” he said.

  “Well, we're about to. But I was informed a hospital isn't needed. So, what is?”

  He laid it out to her. She'd planned on speaking with this doctor everyone mentioned, but he was rather busy administering his hospital and dealing with his family issues. Apparently now that he was home his wife wasn't letting him off a short leash. She had him home by six for supper every night without fail, and he couldn't bring his work home with him. That was rather amusing.

  The Moth was a different story. She was light on cargo, but her captain was a stubborn old bug who liked to haggle. She handed the negotiations off to her XO, who chattered with the other bug in their native language. They settled on a full cargo of passengers for the trip to Pyrax, but Prometheus had to pay up front, they didn't trust a promise of reimbursement on the back end.

  “He's been burned before, Ma'am, several times,” Zeb reported.

  “So, he was the trusting sort but now he's a sour old bug?”

  “Something like that,” Zeb admitted. “I've spoken with the chief; she's sending a crew over now to have a first look at her.

  “Fine,” Shelby nodded. “What is it costing us?”

  “Well, I told them about the overhaul, and that we can do something along those lines. Since they will be carrying a full passenger manifest, it seemed only fitting to do a complete overhaul of her life support to start with. That led to other things. We're working up a list now,” he reported.

  “Fine,” Shelby sighed. “Keep me posted.”

  “They should be giving it to us for free. We've earned it. We're protecting them after all,” Silversmith grumbled.

  Shelby shook her head. “There are no free lunches,” she said simply. “We may know we've earned it, but they didn't see it with their own eyes,” she said. He blinked and then nodded to her. “Besides, he's been burned before. Once burned, thrice shy. You have to earn trust. We're doing that now,” she said.

  “I suppose we are indeed, Ma'am,” he said with a nod.

  Cynthia however was interested in the ship and her engineering. The ship was a Moth class, ancient but still serviceable. “It will take them almost ninety days in hyper to jump the three light years get to Pyrax,” Cynthia said shaking her head. “Despite all we can do for her. We've overhauled every major system, but it's like slapping racing stickers on a tricycle, it's just not fast enough,” she said. “By all rights they should scrap her and start over. But I can see the appeal,” she grunted.

  “Well, I can't,” Ensign Murray complained. Ensign Conrad Murray, senior Tactical Officer on Prometheus was interested in the intel value of the ship's databases and crew interviews. Unfortunately their group lacked a dedicated intel officer, so he was wearing two hats despite only recently graduating from a midshipman status. And since he was young and inexperienced, he was unsure of what to do and where to start. With their limited time before the ships went their separate ways, Shelby tried to help by at least pointing him in the right direction, not letting him sink or swim on his own. She wanted intel on where the ship had been and the conditions of the star systems and populations they were about to meet. As did the XO and AI. Unfortunately they got precious little to sift through for later.

  <====###====[=]<==

  Shelby felt out the negotiations; she was on uncertain ground and knew it. Fortunately, Adam Hotanga was a good man, and Doctor McFile was a supporter of the Navy. The two helped to convince the planet's mayors and governor to work with Prometheus. Of course they and the recruiters that had been sent ahead of Prometheus had done most of the spade work for Shelby ahead of time. That and Prometheus's efforts to help the planet upgrade its infrastructure, medicine and education went a long way to promote the Navy's good intentions. “You'll have to forgive me; we're all sort of new at this. This is our first stop, and we're all new at this,” she said with a smile. They nodded.

  "We're here a limited time. In that time, we are authorized to help you get back on track. I don't want to step on any toes, so why don't you tell me what your priorities are and we'll see what we can negotiate?" She asked. Again, the men nodded.

  "Io did a lot for us with the hospital, radio network, and a few other things, but we're finding we need to plug some gaps in the coverage. Perha
ps a satellite would help?"

  "A series of satellites on say, geosynchronous orbit?" Shelby asked. Mister Hotanga's eyes went wide. He glanced at Doctor McFile. The doctor smiled encouragement.

  "That would be stellar," the negotiator finally said. "We're also having trouble with our water. Doctor McFile has pointed out a serious overhaul of our water filtration is in order..."

  Negotiations took the better part of a day. Both sides seemed encouraged by the ideas, but the herculean task seemed daunting and overwhelming to the colonists. Captain Logan taught them how to break each project down into manageable chunks, then further and further until they could see the small steps involved. When the agreement was reached, Shelby passed the word to Prometheus to get busy.

  The shuttle compliment and the replicators on Prometheus swung into action eagerly. In exchange for satellites, solar panels, water filtration plants, educational and medical supplies, emergency services equipment, a network of roads, telemetry equipment for two space ports, and a radio communications network, not to mention the promise to name a battle cruiser Dawning of a New Day, they received the materials to make the goods, plus fuel to top off all four ships, a constitutional convention and promise to join the reborn Federation, and one other little thing, a one hundred year lease on a small island northeast of the main continent of Icornia. The base crew on Bertha were ecstatic about that little codicil.

  “I'm quite proud of that little real estate purchase,” Shelby said smugly. “And the constitution and joining the Navy. But the island, I like that. A nice place to sit on the sand and watch the surf,” she grinned to the other captains.

  “Why? Like we need an island? Don't we have enough bases and places to guard?” Captain Levinson complained in the captain's briefing when she laid the details out to them. She was still feeling the other captains out and wanted them to feel like they were not only a part of the group, but achieving something with Prometheus. Unfortunately, all they did look like was bored and annoyed.

  “Plenty actually, but those are our orders,” Shelby said before she shrugged. “Make contact with the locals, set up diplomatic ties, maybe put in a base if needed, requested, or if possible. Or improve the local spaceport if we can do so instead.”

  “Oh,” he made a face. “I'm not sure they'll appreciate us poking around. And making a base is a lot of work. What if they just come in and take it over?”

  “That's an issue,” she replied, nodding. “It's also one above our pay grade. But if we've got boots on the ground,” she smiled, “then it's less of an issue. I highly doubt the locals will want to tangle with the Marines we're leaving behind,” she said smiling ever so slightly.

  “True,” Oscar replied grudgingly.

  “Setting up the base will allow us to do many things. Show our faces, train our people, recruit, show our tech, get people interested again in rebuilding, education, and medicine…shake off the apathy.”

  “But an island?”

  “It's a start. This way we can also put our own runway in and land there if needed,” she said.

  “Ah.”

  She exhaled. “Being a spacer myself I'd rather have a platform in orbit, or hell, even on one of the moons. But that means leaving shuttles behind to do runs to the planet for supplies…and then we'd be right back in the boat since the planet doesn't have a decent spaceport anyway.”

  “So, we're cutting out the middle man?”

  “Something like that. Seti Alpha 4 has a nice population, and it's conveniently close to Pyrax. And since they are on friendly terms…why not set up a training and recruiting base?” she asked. He slowly nodded.

  “And since that ship Io 11 has been through here, we don't have to set up a modern hospital,” he said.

  She cocked her head and then nodded. “True. Though we'll set up a small military one at the base. Something expandable for the future if needed,” she said. He made a face. She snorted. “Do you want to put our people or their dependents in the hands of untrained or half ass trained civilians? Or our own equipment?” She demanded, feeling her patience getting thin.

  “Well, when you put it that way...”

  “Yeah, thought not,” she snorted.

  <====###====[=]<==

  “So, all is well. I like it,” Shelby said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. “I just need a piece of chocolate and a massage and I'm golden,” she said airily. She glanced at the ship's AI. “That's a rather broad hint you know,” she told him with a smug smirk.

  “Well, Ma'am, I might get a bot or steward to help with the first, the other you'll have to order on your own,” he replied. She snorted. “And no, not everything in your kingdom is going well,” he said.

  “Oh?” she asked, sitting upright. “Do tell,” she said, voice cooling ever so slightly.

  “Well…” The AI laid it out for her carefully.

  Shelby found out once her negotiations had wound down that a bit of a pissing match had been going on in orbit. Captain Levinson had gone around her and rearranged things and then started to pass on orders to the group and Prometheus's crew. She frowned thoughtfully. She realized Captain Levinson wanted command since he reasoned he was on a warship and Prometheus was only a tender. Prometheus replayed a conversation between the two escort captains. Levinson walked all over Lieutenant Yu, since he had the other ship's captain by date of rank. Troy hadn't been happy and hadn't liked being reminded of his lower status or that Levinson could bring him up on charges.

  “Boy's too big for his britches,” Shelby growled. “Time to have a little talk,” she said. She glanced at the clock and then sighed. “Tomorrow though,” she said. She was tempted to do it now. She was annoyed and it was fresh on her mind, but she had a headache and wanted one moment to savor her first triumph before he marred it with his crap. “Tomorrow is another day,” she said, then took herself off to bed.

  <====###====[=]<==

  The next morning after breakfast she decided it was high time to have a little heart-to-heart talk. She was tired of his going behind her back she admitted, tired of his questioning her decisions. She'd thought he'd been playing devil's advocate, something she'd expected in her XO. Apparently that wasn't Zeb's style, so Levinson had elected himself to the role.

  She had intended the discussion to be face-to-face, something informal to clear the air between the two of them. But they were rather busy with things going on, so she let Oscar off the hook and talked to him remotely. Unfortunately, she picked the wrong venue, instead of talking to him from the privacy of the wardroom she'd put the call in and then he'd put her off. So she'd moved to the bridge to check on things when he finally answered the call. That put them in a more public setting.

  “I'm hearing some odd stories, Captain, and I'd like to clear the air. Let me put you on hold for a moment and transfer you to the wardroom…”

  “Captain, if it is all the same to you, I'd like to get this done now. I'm on a tight schedule, Ma'am,” Oscar replied curtly.

  “Alright,” Shelby drawled. “Have it your way,” she said, settling into her chair. She noted a few sidelong glances from her bridge crew but ignored it. “What's this about date of rank?” she asked.

  “I have First Lieutenant Yu by three months,” Oscar replied.

  “Captain Yu actually. He's entitled to that title as are you, Captain,” she rebuked. “As am I.”

  “As I was saying, there was some…misunderstandings in the chain of command. I've dealt with them. He knows his place now,” Oscar replied.

  “Really,” Shelby replied mildly, noting he hadn't called her Ma'am yet. That was a bit rude, she thought.

  They fenced around the subject, then when it came out into the open they wrestled with the concept of the chain of command. “So, as senior officer…”

  “Of the battle elements, Ma'am. Tradition states that battle line officers hold precedence over supporting roles and officers,” Oscar replied.

  Shelby took a long moment, reading a report as she
digested that. Finally she looked up when he cleared his throat. Shelby at first thought it was amusing, a joke. “You're pulling my leg, aren't you?” she demanded. Then she noted his set face and realized he was serious, she came to attention. She realized she would have to do something she hated, she would have to slap him down.

  “No, I am completely serious here. As ranking officer…”

  “Oscar, get it through your thick head. I'm senior to you. To every officer here, by oh, two whole grades,” she growled. “I've been an officer a hell of a lot longer than you. I was exec of Firefly remember? Before you were even an officer?” She demanded. He jerked a nod. “Just because Prometheus is a tender, which by the way, she's not really, well, not completely anyway, but anyway,” she waved a dismissive hand “…even though she's not a line battleship doesn't mean she's not a naval ship. And hell, she is armed, our teeth are quite sharp, thank you,” she said, eyes narrowing. “She could take you out easily,” she growled.

  “But…”

  “But me no buts,” she said firmly. “Get over it first lieutenant,” she growled, using his rank instead of the captain's designation. He blinked at her, taken aback. She pointed to her rank. “Yeah, commander versus a first lieutenant. Even you can figure it out,” she said. “If not, well, we can always call a court on insubordination and countermanding a superior officers orders,” she said, eyes locking onto his. “Kapish?” she asked.

  He nodded, slightly pale.

  “Good,” she said quietly. “I expect you to adhere to protocol and stop undermining my command.”

  “Yes, Ma'am. It won't happen again,” he said, sounding a bit put out but clearly conscious of being put on the carpet. “With your permission, Ma'am?” he finally ground out between gritted teeth. “I have to attend to my duties, Ma'am,” he said.