by Chris Hechtl
“And yet here you are,” Qilaq teased, giving him a knowing look. She knew he'd wanted adventure, wanted to prove himself to become a beachmaster. To see more of the universe but also to experience new worlds and possibly settle on one of them.
All while also doing his level best to get paid doing a bit of revenge against the Horathian pirates in the process.
“And I'm sitting right next to you so I guess I'm in good company,” the walrus retorted, snorting in her direction.
“Funny,” Qilaq drawled. “I'm not sure why I am here. I'm seeing a pattern; we're all water dwellers. But why me? I'm a medic.”
“You aren't quite yet,” Kapueo reminded her.
She shot him a moderate glower which shut him up. He stiffened to attention.
“Oh lighten up, Qilaq, we're all in the same shuttle,” Tulimak stated. She looked to him. He seemed to shrug his massive shoulders. “I'm guessing we're here because we are water dwellers too. It might be a diplomatic mission to a water planet or it might be something else,” he said as the shuttle settled down into the boat bay with a slight bump and scrape.
“All ashore that's going ashore, or in this case, into Caroline,” the pilot said over the VOX.
“Right,” Tulimak said, rising to his flippered feet. He pulled out his duffel from the overhead and then looked to the others. “Coming?”
“Kind of hard to move with you in the way,” Qilaq drawled. He snorted again and moved to the hatch. One by one the others unbuckled and rose to grab their gear and then lined up behind him.
When they were all ready, he signaled the hatch to open and then stepped through to the deck below. He stopped at the red line, however, not putting a toe over it. The others lined up alongside of him from Qilaq to the two plebes. He turned smartly to salute the flag draped near the ship's crest. The others did the same. They then saluted the boat bay officer.
A Veraxin boat bay officer was there to meet them. “Midshipman Tulimak with a party of three to join the ship's company, sir,” he said, saluting and handing over his order chip.
The Veraxin clacked and took the chip, checked it in his tablet, checked the walrus's IFF and then handed it back. “Welcome aboard, midshipman,” he said, and then he went to the next in line.
They each practiced their speech and followed the sign-in ritual. When they were finished, the Veraxin clacked again. “Drop your gear in the junior officer compartment. I'm warning you it is cramped. We have a lot of gear we're taking on. Then report to the XO for your in-brief,” the Veraxin stated.
“Aye aye, sir,” Tulimak said with a nod.
“Dismissed,” the Veraxin stated as he clacked out of their way.
Tulimak had already accessed and downloaded the North Hampton class blueprints prior to getting on the shuttle. He'd bookmarked various paths to locations he had expected to go to. One of them was the junior officer compartment so he left the boat bay with an ease of familiarity. The others followed.
“He wasn't kidding about cramped,” Tyjon stated, maneuvering around a cluster of containers strapped to a bulkhead. The companionway was packed with gear stored against every bulkhead, including the ceiling. The tall chimera had to duck to keep from getting caught in the netting. “It's almost like home but without the water,” he quipped.
“Quiet,” Tulimak ordered. The plebe immediately cut off the chatter.
* * * *
When they got to the compartment, they stowed their gear. Tulimak knew better than to try to secure an upper bunk, his girth and weight would be too much to go up and down. So, he tossed his duffel onto the lowest bunk behind the hatch then turned to the others.
Qilaq slipped past him and took the upper bunk opposite him. She eeled up there and dossed her duffel, then dropped to the deck next to him.
The two plebes looked amused, but they didn't argue over who got the other bunk. Tyjon took the lower one as Kapueo took the other. “Now we wait?”
“No, he said report to the XO. So, we report to the XO,” Qilaq said patiently.
“Please don't tell me we're going to have to be on our best behavior the entire time we're on board,” Kapueo asked.
The Neo-sea-lion just shot him a glance and then motioned for the walrus to move out.
When they got to the XO's office, the walrus knocked once. “Enter!” a female voice said from the other side. Tulimak signaled the hatch as he turned the wheel and yanked up on the locking bar. The door's latch disengaged and the hatch swung open. He stepped in, making enough room for the others but only barely.
“My, you are a big one,” Lieutenant Angie Kalua observed dryly. She indicated the officer next to her on her side of the desk. Both officers were human. “My name is Lieutenant Kalua. Beside me is Lieutenant JG Brock. He's going to be your department head for the duration of this mission.”
The quartet didn't react. She studied them and then nodded. “Okay, what mission are you asking, well, up until you came on board it was classified.” She smiled thinly. “We're going to where no one has gone in several centuries it seems. We're going to where the admiral had planned to go before he had dropped into pucky on Bounty. We're going to Bek,” she said, making the last word sound like a snap.
“You four and Mister Brock and the rest of the department are going to get us there. You are going to helm this ship,” she said.
Qilaq quivered a little but didn't say anything.
Angie however caught the flicker, and her eyes locked onto the short sea lion. “You have something to contribute, Midshipman?” she asked.
“I'm not trained for helm duties, ma'am. I am a medic. My MOS specifies that. I therefore do not understand why I am here,” Qilaq stated, eyes locked on the bulkhead six centimeters over the XO's head.
“I see. Well, you were selected, you are here now, and you will finish the mission.” She turned a look to the navigational officer when he twitched. “I know you are green, but we'll work on that. Won't we, Mister Brock?” she demanded.
“Yes, ma'am,” he ground out.
“See? One big happy family,” the XO drawled. “While on board you will be midshipman. You will have to answer to the JTO for training assignments when not in your rack resting, eating, or on duty conning the ship. Since I am given to understand that the conn duties are what some have said as extremely stressful, I don't see you doing the full middy experience. Pity,” she said.
Tyjon inhaled a little, and then exhaled slowly. The XO's eyes cut to him, but he didn't say anything.
“Now, why don't you go settle in. Your orders are now available for download. I'll give you an hour to get settled in, then the bosun will tag someone to give you a tour of the ship. Once he's done with that, you'll meet the JTO, take a test on what you've learned, then Mister Brock will start to integrate you into his department,” she said, indicating the navigational officer again.
“Any questions?”
“Ma'am, I'm still unsure of my participation in this mission,” Qilaq said stubbornly.
“Well, you are here now. We all don't get what we want. Get over yourself. We have a vital mission to complete. You can return to your education when you return,” the XO stated, voice cooling into a warning tone. “Dismissed,” she said.
* * * *
“Geeze, Angie, really? Two plebes, one pissed off wanna be medic … the walrus I don't mind, he's got the training but the others I just don't know,” Brock said, sitting on the edge of her desk after the party of middies had departed.
“Get over it. They are the best we've got. From what I've read, it's going to take all of them to get to where we are going.”
“Damn it,” Brock grumbled.
“I said get over it.”
“I know. I'm not happy, but I'll find a way to make it work. But did you see the Neo-sea-lion's face? Boy is she pissed.”
“She's going to have to man up. We need her skills. She volunteered.”
“Something tells me she won't be in the military long if she can't get what s
he wanted. Being forced into a mold of someone else's choosing isn't going to sit well with her.”
“She'll adapt. Like I said, we all don't get what we want. She'll just have to work for it,” Angie said. “Now, if you don't mind, I've got to get the blowers to get the fish smell out of my compartment while you go check the grav tank and their fish tank, and then work on the syllabus to get them up to speed.”
“Right,” Brock said getting off her desk.
“And I'll want a copy of it. You can work with Falling Leaf to get it sorted out.”
“Yeah, I'm not sure about the whole JTO thing...” he said.
“The JTO is the official training officer of middies. It's not just tradition; it's a test of the JTO. A big one if they ever want to get above the rank they are in.”
“I never had it.”
“Then count your blessings or consider this a late exam. Now git,” the XO said, making a brushing motion to the door.
“I'm going,” Brock said, hands up as he retreated.
* * * *
“Will you lighten up, Qilaq? It's not like it's the end of the world!” Tulimak said softly as they got into their quarters.
“No, it's the end of my career. I wish I'd known why Jivante had resigned his commission. I'm certain it wasn't just because something's going on in ET. I'm almost tempted to do the same,” she said darkly.
“Hey, now, let's not do anything hasty,” Tyjon said.
“You do that on a classified mission and you could wind up in the brig sitting it out. You'd still be on the same ship, but you wouldn't get anywhere. Just bored out of your skull and a dishonorable discharge,” the walrus warned. “It's not so bad.”
“Isn't it?” she demanded as she upended her duffel and pulled the contents angrily out. “I'm on a classified mission of unknown length, a hazardous one at that, with no training, no inclination to learn what they are forcing me to learn, and I'm falling behind in my medical studies. That means I'll have to repeat courses I just took when we get back, which will put me well behind in my career track. This mission just cost me a hell of a lot.”
“It's a sacrifice. We all know that,” Tulimak said, eying the two silent plebes as they too went about getting their gear stowed away. “For you most of all it seems. Hopefully someone will make it up to you.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” Qilaq muttered as her hand flippers flashed to get the gear stowed in their rightful places. “I knew I should have gone reservist and taken the college track instead of the academy. Why the hell did I listen to my career counselor?”
“Because you are a sap.”
“Yeah, I listened and this is where it gets me. Did you know mother warned me this would happen?” She shook her head. “I mean I heard about Deja after his visit, but …”
“But you arrogantly thought it wouldn't happen to you. Shows what you know,” Tulimak stated.
“Yeah,” she muttered in agreement, clearly still sulking.
“This is going to be a long mission at this rate,” Tyjon muttered.
“Can it,” Qilaq growled as she stripped and then went to the shower.
“Yah think?” Kapueo said softly.
“I heard that,” Qilaq growled from the tiny head.
* * * *
“So, our crack helm team is on board?” the captain asked, looking at Angie as she sat down in the wardroom for dinner.
“Yes sir. We're ready to go,” she replied with a dutiful nod.
“I was looking over their records; I'm impressed with three of them. I have to admit I'm a bit dubious about the medic's involvement. Did she know what she was getting into?”
“She was warned that she could be tasked to do various duties outside her MOS, sir,” the XO said with a shrug as Z'k'zz placed a plate in front of her. She smiled her thanks to him as she flipped her linen napkin out and into her lap, and then picked up her spoon. “She'll have to adapt. Sea lions are famous for that ability, or so I've been told.”
“Still, we'll have to watch that one closely. All of them for that matter. They are going to be under tremendous stress as it is with the mission. Conning the rapids isn't for the faint of heart... or so I've been told,” he said, stirring his New England clam chowder and then blowing on it. He picked up a couple crackers and crumbled them up and sprinkled them on top.
“Sir?”
“Morale is always a tough thing on a first mission. Once the eagerness and excitement passes into a pall of boredom, things can get interesting. Their first brush with failure can make or break them. It's why middies are pushed and kept busy as much as possible, to keep testing them and keep their minds occupied or at least one reason,” he said with a smile.
“And here I thought it was to train them to learn their duties for the future,” the XO drawled.
“You know it's more than that. She's going to be damaged goods, you know that? Her career just got thrown a serious monkey wrench. When we get back … if we get back,” he said. She blinked at him as she set her spoon down to listen attentively. “She is going to be well behind her class. Our mission could be years in the making,” he warned. “She'll have to repeat courses, take makeups, all of it. Meanwhile her friends and classmates will have gone on to get the plum assignments. That's not going to sit well with her,” the captain warned.
“I'll keep that in mind,” the XO said dutifully, filing the reference away as she nodded.
“See that you do,” the captain said as the hatch opened. They turned expectantly to it. Lieutenant Percy Galavant, the chief engineer, poked his head in through the doorway. “Am I fashionably late as usual?”
“We're about to start. Come in here, pull up a chair, and enjoy some of this clam chowder before I hog it all,” the skipper said with a grin of relish.
“I see,” the chief said with a chuckle as he entered and closed the hatch behind him. “I just checked in. Oppie is beddy by, Brock has the bridge with the kiddies, and Falling Leaf is working on her part of the training syllabus. Everything's running smooth as silk in engineering, thanks for asking.” he flicked his ears and whip of a tail in humor. “We're en route to the jump point, and Brock said we should get there in seventy-one hours.”
“Good to know,” the captain said, indicating the chair opposite the XO. “Sit.” he ordered.
The Neomutt snorted then took a seat. “I'm not that fond of clam chowder; I don't know how you humans ended up with it,” he admitted. “But, when in Rome,” he said, picking up the spoon.
“Ah zip it and eat. I happen to know you eat anything,” Angie said.
“Show's what you know,” the chief engineer said, as he dutifully took a sip of broth.
2
Once everything and everyone was aboard, Caroline left the fitting yard, did a brief stint to shake down, then headed to the B101a1 jump point at a leisurely pace. When they were ready, they would jump to B101a1.
Lieutenant Brock made certain he was on hand to introduce the new helm team to the grav tanks. There were two set up near a single seat station where a regular helmsman would run the conn during normal operating conditions. A rating was seated at that station now, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to them as he ran them through the various bridge stations, navigation, and then a deeper look at the stations they would take turns occupying.
The grav tanks were partially sunken into the deck with lights under and overhead. Any sort of dust floated within, and with the blue lights it gave the occupants an ethereal look. No one was inside them now. The tanks had a clear plastic tube around them to protect the occupant from outside distractions. The tube opened at the top, splitting seams along the length to allow a person to get in and out of it.
He personally hated conning in the things. He didn't like zero G; it tended to give him gas and an upset stomach. He was known for fooling around, but he liked to not be grousing out the crew by barfing his guts out all over the deck.
Once was more than enough, thank you, he thought wryly.
“Ok
ay, I believe you have all had some experience in zero G. And I hope you've had some experience with this,” he said.
Midshipman Qilaq shook her head.
The lieutenant frowned as he looked over to her. “None? None at all? You never even tried it?”
“I'm on a straight medic course. I took the academy over college since it paid for everything and I wanted to be a navy medic,” she said with a slight bite to her tone.
Brock noted a few looks their way from the bridge watch. Great, he thought.
“Okay then, we'll try to start it slow for you,” he said dubiously. “You get in, the door closes, and then the gravity slowly cuts out. The emitters don't actually cut out; what happens is you get a balanced field between the top and bottom,” he said, pointing to the emitters built into the inside of the casing and then to the ones on the bottom. “These tractor you in place. You've got about two meters of space in all directions. The emitters keep you in the center and from moving too far out of their zones.” He glanced at Qilaq. She crossed her arms but nodded. She didn't seem too enthused though.
“Okay, there are no connections since you will be floating around in there. So, you steer the ship through your implants,” he explained. He picked up a rig. It had a headset that wrapped around a user’s head that was connected by a cable to a lap belt. “I'm pretty sure you've used a VR headset,” he said. She nodded. She'd used it during practice surgery often enough. “The lap belt has a fanny pack battery and a transceiver that boosts your implant signal. It sets it so you get priority over any other signal on the ship since you’re conning the ship.”
“Even the weapons?” Tyjon asked.
“Everything when we're in hyper I should have said,” the lieutenant said, eying the middy. He like his chimera partner were standing at parade rest with their flippered hands tucked behind their backs. Their long flippered toes were retracted to allow them to walk in the ship. They had to wear sandals instead of shoes like other bipedal species.
“Question, software? I don't have the same software or implants the others do. Mine are geared for medicine,” Qilaq stated flatly.