Tales of the Federation Reborn 1

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Tales of the Federation Reborn 1 Page 73

by Chris Hechtl


  “That's going to be tricky,” Tyjon said. “I mean, I've got calculators and stuff, I suppose we can arrange a download,” he said, looking to her.

  “I've got my memory set up for medicine. My implants are set for medicine. I don't know if I have the space or processing power for that,” Qilaq stated.

  “Then you'll have to store the software you aren't using in offline storage,” Brock said, starting to lose patience with the middy. She stiffened but didn't bite back. He shook himself slightly, then nodded to them.

  “The feed goes directly to your optical and auditory implants as you know. The VR headset is just there to block out extraneous light and distracting sound. We can also monitor your vital signs through the linkage,” he said bowing slightly to the Neo-sea-lion.

  She didn't seem to react. He mentally shrugged.

  “The return loop is your feedback. Your movements within the tank direct the ship. You “swim” following a plotted course we'll project on your HUD. We get the way points based on known gravitational effects in hyperspace. Apparently the powers that be have adjusted for seven centuries of stellar drift, but we're still winging it here,” he warned.

  Tulimak grunted. The two young chimeras suddenly looked a little nervous.

  “I'm not sure I follow you, sir. Swim?” Qilaq asked carefully.

  “That should come easily to you. We're going to have to bring you up to speed midshipman. Most likely with sleep teaching. I'll check the files on that,” the lieutenant said.

  “I'm not a good candidate for sleep teaching, sir,” the Neo-sea-lion said. “I politely decline such an offering.”

  The lieutenant blinked, taken aback then grimaced. “Suit yourself then. The hard way it is,” he said, indicating the tanks.

  “We're starting you easy, but we're going to build up fast. If you can hack it as we're expecting, you'll scale up to the full thing. And FYI,” Lieutenant Brock said, smiling a feral smile, “the test is harder than real life school of hard knocks. So get over it. I'm going to run you hard once I think you can hack it. So get ready for that. Once we're in hyper and you are in the hot seat, there is no second chances, no do overs, no resets. Remember that,” he warned, holding up a finger. He made sure to lock eye with each of them.

  They nodded.

  “The safety of this ship, its crew, and its mission is going to rest in your hands. Don't disappoint,” the lieutenant warned. He held the warning for a moment then waved a broad hand to show the other stations. “But you aren't doing it alone. There are four other people who take a shift conning the ship. Obviously they'll handle the conn during easy stretches and we'll conserve your skills for the hard parts. Each of you will be on a shift since there are four of you. We'd hoped for more, but four is it,” the lieutenant said. He shrugged. “We'll deal with it. If we have to step the speed down, we do so. Whatever it takes,” he said.

  “Can I go first, sir?” Tyjon asked eagerly.

  “We can run two at a time actually, though I'm a bit concerned about your bulk. No offense, Midshipman Tulimak,” he said, eying the walrus.

  “It's genetics. I can't change that much,” the walrus stated.

  “Understood. Why don't we see if you fit? Just don't break anything,” he warned. “You did go before coming on shift, correct?” the walrus nodded.

  “Oh, that's something I had forgotten to mention, go before your shift starts, both number one and number two. Make sure you are cleaned out, and you are ready to rock. You'll be handling shifts of a minimum of six hours, sometimes longer on days when one of you have a day off. You each get one day off a week.”

  “Joy,” Qilaq murmured.

  “If one of you becomes unable to attend to your duties for any reason, the others will have to pick up the slack. That means you'll be on shifts for ten to twelve hours, and you'll have to wear a catheter and diaper. It also means regular checks by the doctor and medical staff, which means a lot of poking and prodding,” the lieutenant warned.

  “They are just doing their jobs,” Qilaq said defensively for her chosen profession.

  “That they are, keeping us healthy even if we're not in the mood for it,” Lieutenant Brock said, pursing his lips as he stepped between the pods. He indicated the left pod. “Tyjon, you are up. Tulimak, you as well. We'll run both sims and let Qilaq and Kapueo see how it is done by watching your feeds. Once you are finished, we'll switch. I'm not looking for endurance this go around, just a basic assessment of your skills and reaction time,” the lieutenant said as each of the chosen midshipmen took a pod. Tulimak rolled his massive shoulders and neck a few times, stretching as much as possible before he flexed his flippered hands.

  “Ready, willing, and able, sir,” the walrus said, all business.

  “We'll see about that,” Lieutenant Brock replied as he signaled the lids to close and for the tanks to finish the boot up process.

  * * * *

  Lieutenant Brock spent an entire shift testing the conn team. When it became obvious who needed the most work, he tried to focus on Qilaq.

  The Neo-sea-lion was in a funk, however. She seemed to not really have her heart or mind on the task. It became obvious that the more he pushed her the more she clammed up. Stings and jabs to her pride didn't seem to wake any more effort on her part. He wasn't certain what to do.

  Tulimak watched from near the JTO station. He was concerned; Qilaq was his friend and classmate as well as crewmate now. It was obvious to anyone that she was depressed; she was still sulking about being where she didn't want to be. She had dampened her air of resentment, but she had very little clue on how to do the job. There were tricks that experience taught you; he'd learned a few. Tricks to minimize your movement, conserve your energy, and tricks to keep you focused and alert.

  She had no clue about any of that. She barely understood the HUD and fumbled a lot. She was also the least interested. She drifted listlessly in the tank as they reset the simulation to try again. “This is only the beginning. You are getting better, but you need to focus,” the rating murmured to her.

  “He said swim. I'm swimming,” the Neo-sea-lion said. “Just load the program.”

  “She's got an attitude problem,” Falling Leaf said, shaking her head. The walrus looked down to the elf and then back to the Neo-sea-lion. “What's her problem?”

  “She was on a medical career path. She's not happy about being forced here. We were warned that the navy wanted helmsman, but she's stubborn as the day is long. Her mother and grandmother were clan healers. She's followed in their footsteps since she was old enough to understand. The idea of being a medic is set into her mind; it is all she wants to be. But now people are telling her she has to do this. She's not allowed to follow her dream.”

  “Doesn't she know this is just temporary? Just one mission?” the elf asked.

  “Respectfully ma'am, no. What about the next time the navy needs to go to Bek? Or some other place? Run to the rescue? Deja was pressed into the duty even though he has a deep-seated psychological block against doing so.”

  “How do you know that?” Falling Leaf asked. “I mean, I know he was good at it. He did that run to Antigua in Firefly, but …,” she cocked her head and waggled her antenna. “I had wondered why he hadn't chosen to be a helmsman. He's a natural.

  “He was as a civilian, ma'am, before the Horathians got a hold of him and forced him to fly for them.”

  Falling Leaf's large goat-like eyes turned to him in surprise. She blinked. “Really? I hadn't known that about him.”

  “It's why he chose to be a marine, ma'am. But the navy needed him, so he stepped up. He corresponds with some of the clans on Agnosta, and he's visited at least once. He also had a big black cat visit once or twice. We talk,” the walrus said.

  “I see that.”

  “Seeing what he went through, the promise of being able to follow your dreams while also defending the Federation is one thing. It's a nice dream. But in her case …,” he indicated the sea lion flaying about in th
e tank. She had a lithe movement about her, a grace from time to time, but when she lost it she just lost it totally.

  “I see she's going to be a work in progress,” the JTO sighed.

  “I think she's in a funk about her career being toasted before it began, ma'am. She was really looking forward to graduating, and she was at the top of her classes. She loves being a medic—eats, sleeps, and breathes it.”

  Angie paused in the doorway behind them and frowned thoughtfully. She'd been listening to their conversation for a while; now she understood a little of the motivation of the sea lion. She was a bit disappointed that the young midshipman wasn't as flexible as she'd hoped. She thought about lecturing her about making sacrifices for the greater good and sucking it up, but she wasn't certain how receptive the sea lion was.

  There was something to be said about the whole, “down the ladder rung by rung” problem. She didn't need to give the girl a push right now.

  “Maybe … maybe I can talk to Doctor Naroob. See if he'll take her on as an intern when she's got free time. Have him tutor her, maybe … maybe run some of her classes. We're not out of Pyrax yet. I can get the classes she's taking, and she can do them as makeup classes, at least the theory ones. The hands-on … she'll get credit as an intern but not quite what she needs.”

  “It's a lot, ma'am, thank you,” Tulimak said.

  “At the very least, she'll have to come out of her shell, and the Doctor can keep an eye on her mental health. We don't need her having issues,” the JTO said.

  “Definitely not, ma'am. Not that I can see Qilaq being suicidal, ma'am. She's got a good head on her shoulders, but I swear there is a bit of mule mixed in her genes somewhere.”

  “Knowing your Neo parentage, I'm not going to guess,” the elf replied dryly.”

  “I was thinking it was more of a gender thing myself,” the walrus said daringly.

  “Hey! I resemble that remark,” the JTO said, eying him more severely.

  “Sorry, ma'am.”

  “No you aren't. I can fix that though,” she warned.

  “Now I'm very sorry, ma'am,” he said in a more contrite tone.

  “You'd better be,” Angie said, coming up behind them. The walrus stiffened to attention. “Let's keep it professional, shall we? Ensign Falling Leaf is your training officer.”

  “I … thought we were just going to be responsible for …,” the walrus indicated the helm and grav tanks.

  “Oh, you are. But we in the navy believe in throwing people in, especially the middies, the deep end. You are adults; you will take on the duties of same. You are larval officers, yes, but this is your final form of training, the last test before you graduate. Don't screw it up.”

  “Aye aye, ma'am.”

  She stepped past and then paused. “But also remember, you are never finished learning. Never forget it; never give up wanting to learn something.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Now, if you can get that through some thick heads, we'll all be better off. That and get some of the impatience of youth out of her,” the XO said, shaking her head as Brock tapped at his station a little harder than strictly necessary. To see the normally unflappable and playful lieutenant losing his patience with a student didn't bode well for the future.

  “Oh, and,” she turned to the JTO, “I'm okay with the modification to her training schedule if the Doctor is. Run it past him, then draw up a modified syllabus between the three of you and get back to me on it. You'll have to take into account her current training though,” she said, indicating the tank. “That obviously takes priority,” she warned.

  “Aye aye, ma'am,” the JTO said.

  “Good. Carry on,” she said with a nod as she went over to the captain's chair.

  * * * *

  After the third day, the XO called the navigational officer in to have a heart to heart. “I'm reading over your notes. You haven't put a lot into it. I know it's early, and they are settling in, but we need to know if this is going to work. Preferably before we jump for B101a1,” Angie said, laying her tablet down in front of her before she crossed her hands on top of it.

  Newt grimaced. He was pretty laid back about just about everything except his first name. He despised it, which was why he went by Brock. He also didn't like to be put on the spot, he knew where the question and answer session was going to lead. Angie had made some noises about certain sulking people being inflexible at last night's dinner; she should take a page from her own lecture book. Not that he was dumb enough to tell her that.

  “They are still settling in. The real test won't come until we jump to B101a1,” he finally said. He shrugged at her expression. “Anyone can look good on paper. These are middies; this is their first cruise. All I can tell you is to let them settle in.”

  “They've had enough time.”

  “We're dealing with what, 10 percent of the crew being new or green? Fortunately, we didn't lose an officer, or unfortunately,” he said.

  “What's that supposed to mean?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.

  “Nothing. I'm sticking my foot in my mouth,” he said. She didn't say anything so he shrugged again. “I know the conn is the critical thing here. We're working on it. Some are grasping the basics more than others. Hopefully they'll pick it up. But two of them are plebes, the others …”

  “Need to be brought up to speed. We're about to jump for B101a1 now that we've gotten the rust dusted off,” the XO stated flatly. “They need to sink or swim. Preferably swim since we're tied to them.”

  “The good news is, Tulimak is good, very good. Top of his game. I can see why he's at the top of his class. He's even helping bring the others along,” he said. Angie nodded. “Kapueo is second; he's quieter and more focused than Tyjon. Tyjon still needs a bit of work with his self-confidence and a little less flash, but he's settling in. I've thrown a couple scares at them to make them take it more seriously. Kapueo took it to heart, but I may have gone a bit overboard with Tyjon. He hasn't fully bounced back yet; I think the scare shook his self-confidence more than I'd expected.” Angie nodded. “But he'll settle in; he's just earned a little more caution to his approach.” She nodded again. She'd heard through the ship's scuttlebutt grapevine that the normally goofy navigational officer had taken the two chimeras to task rather sharply after their disastrous showing yesterday morning. That was good. She hadn't known he'd set them up for failure though. “Both of the chimeras are extremely excited about being at the conn so early, but it's starting to wear in that it's not a game.”

  “Spare me the young and eager. I'd take a seasoned veteran any day. Even a fatalistic one. I'm seeing not much improvement from the sea lion. Is she still acting immature and sulking?”

  “We can't have them distracted, angry, and definitely not willing to be here. Why someone forced her to be here I don't know. It's stupid,” the navigational officer said.

  “Can you use her?”

  “I don't know. I honestly don't.”

  “Try. She might grow into the role.”

  “Right. I bet rapists say that to their victims all the time,” Brock said, making Angie reel back and suck in a breath in dismay. “Sorry, I'm coming on a bit strong there, but it fits. She's being forced into this and is slowly poisoning the group's morale and attitude. They'll either close ranks with her on the outside, or we'll have serious problems,” he said. “We can't have her fuming while in the tank.”

  “As I said …”

  “And we can't counsel her to buck up and soldier. It's not going to work. If you were fed something raw, you'd be pissed too. The best we can do is try to be patient and let her get over it. At the least she'll settle down until the mission ends. Once it does though, she'll either get over it or she'll resign.”

  “And the navy loses her.”

  “We could force her to be retained, but I highly don't recommend it,” Brock said. “This mission is critical, so obviously someone thought it was important enough to sour a promising career before it got star
ted.”

  “I hate crap like that. Why she can't …”

  “Get over it? Some people hold a grudge. Hopefully she'll let it go or at least dampen down the vibes she's sending out. You barking at her doesn't help,” he warned, eying her.

  “Tough,” the XO growled.

  “You really are a hard ass,” the navigational officer said.

  “It's part of my job.”

  “Well, my part is to make sure my department is running smoothly and efficiently, which is tough given the mission. Please don't make it harder than it needs to be.”

  “Get in line,” the XO said. “Better yet, get her in line,” she said.

  “It'd be easier with a carrot,” the navigational officer said with a shake of his head.

  * * * *

  The conn team took shifts with Lieutenant Brock, who took them under his wing. When they weren't conning the ship, he either had them running a simulation of the rapids or he quizzed them about their HUD functions and various actions to take. “I want you to learn it like muscle memory. Instinctive reaction. The right reaction. Don't build up any bad habits,” he warned.

  On top of the conn training they also had to attend basic course loads with the JTO. The JTO kept their preoccupation with the helm in mind however, so they only had to do basic introduction courses with the other ship's departments to familiarize them with their function so they could properly interact with those who ran them.

  Qilaq was surprised when she was approached by an SBA the day after they jumped into hyperspace. “Yes?”

  “Ma'am, Doctor Naroob's compliments. You are late for your appointment,” he said quietly.

  “Late?” she frowned. She'd just finished lunch.

  “Late. He's cut you some slack for the helm work, but you need to shag ass to sickbay ma'am and get the introductions over with so he can work your course load out.”

  “Course load?”

  “He'll tell you, ma'am,” the SBA said. “I'm probably going to be in as much hot water as you are for stealing his thunder. Play dumb, please,” he said as he left.

 

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