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Star Odyssey - Rain's Gambit

Page 3

by T. J. Jones


  “Goodness, Mr. Rain. You sound like a handful back then. It’s a miracle you’ve made it this far.”

  “It’s a gift, I reckon.”

  She smiled. “Hopefully, one that stays close to you. We’ll need that charmer’s luck no doubt on our mission at some point or other. Something always goes wrong. I’m counting on that seat of your pants wit you seem to have to get us through any messes.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know you will. So! I take it you’ve been down to engineering already?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was on my way to inspect the fighter bay. Lt. Axoi was quite excited to be working on the Alliance’s first quantum tunneling prototype mounted to the Alliance’s largest warp core it has ever designed.”

  Captain Garrett smiled at that. “Good. I like knowing the crew is taking ownership of the ship. I’m guessing it was rather impressive. I detected a hint of dreaminess in your retelling just now.”

  He grinned and pointed to himself. “Who, me? Ok, maybe a little bit. I would suggest going down for one of the Lt. Axoi’s tours before we step off.”

  The captain seemed to think that over favorably and then nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. I’ll head down shortly then. You coming?”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am. It’s a sight, sure, but I’m kind of enjoying settling in up here. I’ll hold down the fort.”

  The captain nodded, taking her coffee cup with her to the lift. “Page me if you need anything. You know where I’ll be.”

  Adrian nodded and gave her a friendly wave, and then he turned back to the main screen and settled into his chair. He could do so much. Where to start seemed to elude him. He pulled up information on the ship’s defensive and offensive capabilities. Those would definitely be worth knowing. He took a sip of his tea. He could not help noticing just how well armed and defended the ship was. Top of the line weapons that would make a standard cruiser blush. Technically the Odyssey was large enough to be a battle cruiser, the fact the ship was designed more for exploration and scientific research eliminated it from that role on paperwork, but not in specifications.

  “Getting back to your roots,” he said as he patted the armrest.

  The other facet that caught his eye was how potent the shield was. The shields at full projection could take sustained strikes from a Dominus battleship for almost a solid five minutes before the capacitor would kick in and push more energy to the grid. That was extremely beneficial and crucial. Not just for combat but for general use as well. Having a deflector grid that powerful meant being able to shoulder an extreme amount of special oddities, distortions, and assorted phenomena. The fact the shields used the same principle, as the warp effect was curious to him.

  He was looking over the engineering specs for the shield grid and pondering the results of back flowing the output from the subluminal engines into the capacitor for extra punch when his comm device chirped.

  “Commander Rain, I need you in engineering NOW.”

  He blinked at the immediacy of the captain’s voice. It sounded both pissed and urgent. This could not be good. He thumbed the transmit button. “On my way, ma’am.”

  “Come armed. Garrett out.”

  He sat frozen for a quarter of a second. Armed? That was steep. At best, he figured someone was being insubordinate down in the main engineering. To request he show up armed was a pretty swift escalation. He was up and in motion before he realized it, typing in his access key at the small pistol rack on the far wall of the bridge. It chimed affirmative and took a thumb scan before lowering a rack of pistols for his selection. He grabbed the first one on the left and primed the battery. It whined as the weapon charged up to service use. He stepped into the turbo lift. “Computer, main engineering.” The computer chirped an acknowledgment of his order and descended into the ship.

  Chapter Three

  When the main door for engineering parted and revealed the captain nose to nose with Admiral Shorn in a very heated shouting match, he suddenly understood, at least a little bit, why she had wanted him to arrive armed. She turned to him sharply and waved him over. “Good, Commander Rain. Finally, you’re here. Now escort the Admiral out of my engineering now.”

  He cleared his throat and stepped toward them tentatively. “Ma’am. Sir. Everything alright here?”

  Before Shorn could speak, the captain snapped, “No. The Admiral doesn’t have the clearance to be poking around down here unattended. As the acting CO of this vessel, I’m ordering him to vacate the premises.”

  “I have all the authorization I need right here,” Shorn said, gesturing to his rank on his collar.

  Adrian’s expression sagged. “Unfortunately, sir, the captain is right. Due to the top-secret nature of the quantum tunneling drive, access to the ship’s engineering section is limited to its cleared station techs, maintenance officers, and accompanying engineers from the Kaku Institute. Your rank doesn’t enable you the necessary clearances to be permitted in here alone, I’m afraid.”

  Shorn glared at him. Adrian got the distinct feeling he had just jumped off the edge of a cliff and landed on a bed of swords.

  The admiral was clearly angry. The man was shaking. He turned rapidly between Rain and Captain Garrett. “Mark my words, bitch. You won’t be getting in my way for very much longer.”

  Adrian sighed and gestured for the Admiral to accompany him toward the airlock. It was the longest journey he had ever been on even though it was a short lift ride back to Deck Three and a short walk to the airlock. Then he rejoined the captain in engineering. She was looking for something. What, he was not sure, but she was definitely on a mission.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll mind explaining to me what that was all about?” he asked jabbing a thumb toward the main entryway.

  The captain glanced up from under a plasma conduit. She blinked and then shook her head. “Sorry. That man just pisses me off to no end. He’s the gasbag that had the Cassiopeia mothballed. I’ve never liked him. Always found him to be too scummy.” Her face wrinkled at the last word. He could tell the man was a bad taste.

  “I see. He definitely wasn’t very friendly.”

  “First time?” she asked.

  Adrian nodded. “I’d never met him face to face till today.”

  “He’s a self-entitled asshole. Thinks because he’s an admiral that he’s got full command of the entire Alliance Navy.”

  “Want me to write up a report to Admiral Howell?”

  Garrett paused and then turned back to him from her inspection and nodded. “Yeah. Tell her about that little tantrum he just threw. Jack won’t take his shit at all.”

  Adrian grinned. He was not one for fleet politics, but when it came to Alpha Fleet, no one touched it without clearing through Admiral Jacquinna Howell. Most who knew her closely called her Mad Jack because anyone trying to fuck with her fleet always got her nasty side.

  He pulled his comm device out and made a small note to write up a report and forward it to the Admiral. He glanced back up to the captain as she was finishing her inspection.

  “Uh, ma’am, just what exactly is it you’re looking for?”

  She paused shrugging. “I don’t know. Anything? Nothing? Beats the hell out of me. I just have a gut feeling he was here for a purpose. What? I can’t be sure.”

  Adrian frowned. He had missed some things that much was obvious. “Well, I reckon I’ll head back and turn the weapon back in if I’m all done here.”

  Garrett glanced up distracted. “Huh? Yeah. You’re good. Thank you, Adrian.”

  He paused, smiling back to her. “No problem at all.” He left engineering with a keen sense of foreboding. For the life of him, he was not sure why though.

  Once the lift doors shut, he sighed heavily and felt like a huge weight had just rolled off his chest. The last fifteen minutes or so felt like they would drag on for an eternity. Faced with the potential prospect of having to fire on an admiral. That was pretty well tantamount to committing career suicide.
He was not sure if he still had not done so by just forcing the admiral out or not. He leaned his head back against the lift car’s wall as it ascended through the tube back toward the bridge. This was certainly going to make the coronation ceremony tomorrow even more interesting since Admiral Shorn was supposed to be the one administrating it.

  He rubbed his temples and rolled his jaw a few times, feeling a tension headache setting in. It popped a few times, the broken joint clicking as he did so — a leftover war wound from his fighter days. The doors swished open and he stepped onto the bridge to see some of the senior staff inspecting their stations.

  “Good afternoon, folks.”

  He got some smiles in return, a few nods, and a couple curious looks at the pistol in his hand. He went through the motions of putting it back in its place on the rack. Everyone looked busy. He nodded with a smile to himself. He liked them that way. He was glad to see that many of them were taking his advice and getting to know their stations. The UI had not changed too much, but it never hurt to know where all your commands were. Being able to execute orders in a snap was a high priority for him. Reducing the lag time from verbal order to inputting the command would expedite their field efficiency. He rounded the rear portion of the bridge, approached the command chairs, and took his seat.

  “Is everyone acclimating to their workstations alright? Any issues the techs need to be aware of?”

  East and west cranial movement all around. Good. Things were going smoothly then. This would be the Alliance Navy’s first legitimate attempt at redressing their fleet mission and getting back to their roots. He did not want to botch anything that he had control over, and he had control of a lot, so it was vital to make sure everything ran at top speed and moved at one hundred percent efficiency.

  “Commander Rain, right?”

  He glanced up and noticed the woman seated at the helm had turned around slightly to face him. Adrian greeted her with a smile. “That’s me. And you must be Lt. Vail?”

  She nodded but did not return his smile. She was a Stollan. They were a near humanoid race that had differently developed biology. Where humans had red blood cells, Stollans had blue. They also tended to be more stoic than normal, with extremely flat senses of humor. If they had any at all. His bunkmate in basic had been a Stollan. It was the longest ten weeks of his life.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance finally, Commander Rain. I have read your report. Your prior service has been rather exemplary. Notable even for a Stollan.”

  Was that a compliment? He didn’t know Stollans to be glib or crass. He smiled and bowed slightly. “Well, hopefully, I can live up to expectations. I’ve been told I’m not exactly what’s expected when I’m met in person.”

  Vail nodded and rotated around to continue going through her station.

  “It was nice Talking with you too,” he whispered.

  A chuckle made him startle and he turned to see a man standing behind him.

  “Solamen Kaine, sir. Chief of security. Pleased to meet you.” Kaine reached down to shake his hand.

  “Likewise, Lt. finding your way around the ship alright?”

  “I am, sir. Thank you. She is bigger than I have seen before. Much more spacious than the Resilient.”

  “The Resilient. That was an escort right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Not much call for a security chief aboard a fifty-man escort is there?”

  “No, sir. I doubled as a tactical officer to cover the shift rotations.”

  Adrian nodded impressed. It was good to see initiative like that in an officer. This one would go places. “I like that. We may make use of those Talents again I’m sure.”

  Solamen nodded with a grin. “I would certainly hope so, sir.”

  Adrian turned back around and annotated a note in his log to consider Solamen Kaine for tactical training and have him work with Jarod Tiaahl about rotating in and out from time to time to get him some experience behind the station. The Odyssey was much larger and a little more heavily gunned than the Resilient ever was.

  Speaking of Tiaahl, where was he? He checked his sign-in list to see whether he had boarded the ship. All crew were required to sign in once they had boarded. The computer would check their name off a master roster once they had. He had signed in at least. He keyed in the verbal command button on his comm device. “Computer: Locate Jarod Tiaahl.”

  “Locating Jarod Tiaahl.”

  There was a pause.

  “Location: Jarod Tiaahl is in Tenaport.”

  He smiled at the confused looks. He had edited the computer’s library listing of the lounge to Tenaport. That way when the computer gave the location name, it would be the accepted slang name and folks would be able to find and discuss it easier. He was rather proud of himself for that.

  He stood up and glanced around to everyone. “Is everyone good here? I’m gonna go greet Mr. Tiaahl. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in Tenaport.”

  “Tenaport, sir?”

  “The Mess. It is a fleet tradition to nickname the mess or dining facility. Ours is Tenaport.”

  “Why Tenaport?”

  “It’s on Deck Ten, furthest forward on the Port side.”

  “What about Ten Forward?” someone suggested. He turned to see Mary Jo and gave her an incline of his head.

  He tapped his lip. “Well, I suppose we could put it to a vote. Later. For now, it is Tenaport. Think about it if you have something better. I’m open to suggestions.”

  Everyone gave him a round of nods. “Good. All right then. I’ll be back. If the captain shows up, don’t forget your formalities and greetings. Maintain your bearing. All that jazz.”

  Again, more head bobbing. He clapped his hands together and backed into the lift. When the doors swished shut, he grinned. He could tell he was going to like this crew a lot. Working on this ship was going to be one of the best points of his career. He could just tell.

  “Computer, Tenaport please.”

  The computer chimed and the lift car went into motion. Since the ship was much longer than it was Tall, the lift cars often did more horizontal travel than they did vertical. So often once the lift car was on the right deck, if a specific location was given, the car would then traverse horizontally across the deck until it reached the nearest exit point to the desired location. In this instance, there was a lift exit right in front of Tenaport.

  The doors swished open and he smiled. “I’m gonna love this ship and mission so much.”

  He strode through Tenaport’s doors and could see many more people had gathered here than when he was here the other day. Several people dressed in civilians were tending the bar, and many crewmembers were eating, drinking, and discussing various things. Adrian nodded, feeling something like a proud father in a way.

  “So you’re the new XO that Lara is working with then?” a gruff male voice directed toward him from his right. He turned around saw a man in uniform with peculiar markings that could be either tattoos or chromatic pigment differences. Either way, he was not sure.

  “You must be Jarod Tiaahl.”

  Tiaahl nodded and stood up. Looking Adrian up and down, he seemed disappointed. “Expected you to be taller.”

  “Er, why?”

  “Your record. A man doing half the shit you’ve done would have to have some warp core sized balls.”

  “Uh…nope. Just the regular sized ones.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Mmm.”

  By this point, Adrian was not very certain of his new tactical officer. He seemed odd, to say the least. Alternatively, peculiar perhaps. “So. Your record indicated you’ve worked with the captain before?”

  Tiaahl nodded.

  “I’ve known Lara since she was just a young buck ensign.”

  “Were you demoted or something?”

  “No, that was my past host.”

  “Host?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “
I’m a Tenean. We share our bodies with symbionts. Whenever a Tenean dies, his symbiont is given to the next available candidate. Some of the older symbionts have an accumulated knowledge of ten to twenty hosts — each carrying the memories and personalities of past hosts with them creating an all-new incarnation of the blend.”

  Adrian could only blink. Tiaahl sounded like he was giving the canned explanation.

  “I’ve got a worm in me that remembers everything and carries that to the next host.”

  “Nice. I think. So what host are you?”

  “Jarod.”

  He shook his head. “No, no, I mean what number?”

  “Seventh.”

  “Wow, that’s quite a few.”

  He nodded. “I’m definitely among the more seasoned Teneans. Symbiont age wise at least.”

  “So how does it work? Is it like having two personalities? Am I talking to the worm? Or to you?”

  “I’m both. Jarod and Tiaahl. Jarod Tiaahl.”

  “So the worm is Tiaahl?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re Jarod?”

  “Yes.”

  “So who am I speaking to?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “Both. Mostly.”

  Adrian rubbed his head.

  “I can see this is a bit complicated for you. Do not focus on the singular beings. We are connected. Tied. One.”

  Adrian nodded. “Ok, I get that. I think.”

  Tiaahl nodded with him. However, he seemed to share in Adrian’s confusion. Part of Adrian wondered if Tiaahl was doing this on purpose. Some kind of test or something. He did mention that he had known the captain for a long time. Maybe she had put him up to it.

  “At any rate. I was just checking in on ya. Most of the senior staff are on the bridge getting to know their consoles.”

  “Good, good. New workstations. Important that the crew knows how to do their jobs.”

  “Have you seen yours?”

  “Yes,” Tiaahl replied.

  “When?”

  “I built a replica in my quarters to practice on. Ran simulations. Good results. You’ll be pleased.”

 

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