by Chris Hechtl
As the yard dogs finished the painting and final fitting out, the crew started to straggle in. BuShips was filling her with a mixed bag of skills in his estimation. He'd gotten a chance to read over some of the crew's bios, but not all. He'd limited himself to the officers and noncoms. He simply didn't have the time to read every enlisted sailor's life history, nor did he want to burn the time even if he did.
He was still missing a few key postings. He'd been surprised when he'd heard the ship had a full hospital and therefore required a proper CMO. The chief medical officer had yet to be assigned. He'd tried to give his input but had been largely ignored.
That was frustrating. Normally, captains were allowed some input on the makeup of their crew. Apparently, not here he mused darkly. Someone thought they knew better than he did. And since they outranked him … technically they did. Or at least he wasn't willing to take the chance and stick his neck out to argue with them about it.
He glanced at one of the vid screens. Lieutenant Commander Fazim Koba was busy discussing something with a couple of techs and a manager. He grunted.
He glanced at another camera feed. Commander Fitzgerald could be seen talking with someone off camera. Someone else moved into frame; from the look, it was a human female, most likely the commander's Chimera partner. That was to be expected; the duo was inseparable.
He'd petitioned to get them permanently assigned to his ship. He didn't care which of them took the chief engineer slot; they worked as a team. Gemma was better with people, but Leo knew the critical hardware. Unfortunately, that request like his other personnel requests had been denied. The two were too valuable as yard dogs and research scientists
Personally he had thought a cruise would do the duo some good. Give them some practical experience and some perspective. But again, no one had solicited his opinion.
According to the latest schedule, he'd seen they had about a week more of fitting out before they were given their formal commissioning ceremony. That was going to be a public affair. That day the circus would be all over his ship, poking and touring it. The media was going to have a field day he mentally groused.
He checked the schedule and then nodded. The new bosun and quartermaster were handling taking on stores. That was still an issue; they had to move stores around the ship when work parties required access to certain areas. Hopefully, by the end of the turn of the next watch they would put a stop to such nonsense.
He loved the automation on the ship but was a bit leery about it as well. The computer was unnaturally quick. He'd heard there was an A.I. in there somewhere, but he'd put his foot down and had kept it in the background. The last thing he wanted or needed was his ship talking back to him.
He frowned, then shook his head and picked up his tablet. He keyed in his password and then accessed his e-mail. When he didn't note anything from BuPers, he pulled up a form letter he'd generated asking about where his missing people were, with a pointed reminder about how little time he had until the ship sailed again. He scanned it, altered the date, and then sent it off.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Leo nodded to Gemma. She grimaced at the signal that all was clear. She had almost hoped it hadn't been. She opened the door, ducked inside, and then felt Leo come in behind her. She looked over her shoulder as Leo closed the door with a shuff sound and slight click.
Sometimes all the cloak and dagger shit they went through was for the birds, she thought. She knew Leo got his kicks out of it, but she didn't like some aspects of it. Take for instance the layered orders the duo was laboring under at the moment.
“We can only nip in for a moment, sir; we're really swamped and I'm shagged,” Gemma said to their real boss.
Philippe Colton nodded as he leaned against the desk behind him. His arms were crossed; he stood there and studied his charges. “You weren't seen of course,” he said more than asked.
“Of course not, sir,” Leo said in a put upon tone of voice.
“Just checking.”
“I thought you wanted to do this through the holo chat, sir?” Gemma asked, glancing at her partner.
“Sometimes it's best to meet in person,” their boss said. He held out an expectant hand. She blinked.
“Oh, right,” she murmured when he made a gimmy motion with his fingers. “The report,” she said. She patted her pockets then fished out a chip and handed it over to him.
“What's the gist of this,” Philippe asked.
“The same as usual,” Gemma said in a slightly astringent tone of voice. “We're in; we're close to the commodore and his people. They have taken us into their confidences in the usual way. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary.”
“Bored?”
“No, I just wasn't certain what we're looking for. Treason is out. The commodore is clean, sir. The only hint of a problem that we know about is their text messages. We can't tap them; they are encrypted.”
“And bringing in hardware to record them and decrypt them would be a tad conspicuous,” Leo said.
Philippe could tell the duo were uncomfortable about the duplicity they were working under. Part of the reason they were meeting in person was for him to do an evaluation of them, something he couldn't do properly over a vid or holo chat. He eyed them, gauging how they were handling the assignment. “Make the most of it.”
“We are sir. We've picked up a lot of knowledge, which brings me to a request,” Leo said. He turned to Gemma. “It's really your field, you do it,” he said, nodding to her.
“Gee, thanks,” she drawled, eyeing him in annoyance before she turned to their boss. “Sir, it's like this. In order to fit in better and to get the encrypted chats, we'd like to receive implants. Even basic ones might allow us to observe the chatter.”
The team leader frowned thoughtfully.
“Imagine it as a boon to field agents, sir. The ability to pass information unseen? And the other enhancements are nothing to sneeze at. Sensors, communications as I mentioned, but also enhanced hearing and vision, tougher, stronger …,” Gemma rolled on.
Philippe nodded. “I see your point but all I can do is pass it up the chain of command. I understand the two ensigns that Caroline brought in are in the VA. I don't know how to approach them without being noticed, and if we did, they would most likely pass it on to Commodore Logan.”
“Not if we bring him in on it, sir. Request it through him, sir. If he is in on it, he won't suspect anything,” Leo argued.
Philippe scowled and then slowly nodded. His eyes narrowed as he studied them. “I see. Are you two too close to the subject? Have you been compromised?”
“I don't see how we could, sir. As we've reported, we haven't seen anything wrong. If we do, we'd report it.”
“I see,” Philippe said thoughtfully. He considered what to do. He was tempted to pull them and then put them through a long debrief cycle, then back into the labs but decided against it. “All right, we'll play it out for now. Get back out there. Get me something more solid to go on.”
“I know you want something, but if it isn't there …,” Leo said.
Gemma touched his arm. That cut him off. “The implants might help, sir. That is their hold card. With us on the inside, we can see if there is anything there and can record everything sent in our presence.”
“All right, I'll buck it up through channels,” Philippe said after a moment of thought, clenching and unclenching his artificial hand.
“Any problems with that, sir?” Leo asked, suddenly concerned about his project. He indicated the hand. He'd built a series of custom prosthetic hands after their team leader had lost it in a cryo accident. The liquid nitrogen had made a mess of things. His latest design had come about after he'd applied what he'd learned about modern electronics and hardware. It was nearly the proper weight for his boss.
“No, you did good,” Philippe said, looking at the hand as he held it out in front of him. “You even got the flesh tone right, though it doesn't tan obviously. Nice job.”
Leo
seemed to preen as he nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Quit fishing for compliments, however deserving of them you seem to be,” Philippe scolded.
“Sorry, sir.”
“No, you aren't,” he said, cracking a rare smile. He nodded his chin to the door. “Go on. Skye is stuck working on the coding side. She's swamped with the workload, despite her skills and the bots she's created. And Mack is lost in the engineering. I'm considering bringing him in with you, but since the Ilmarinen project is virtually wrapped up, I'm not certain at this point what the brass will do with the commodore.”
“And since he's been hemorrhaging personnel, it will look suspicious, sir—not that he would be ungrateful,” Leo volunteered.
“That too,” Philippe mused. “I considered bringing him in as chief engineer, but there is a risk involved. Plus, he doesn't have the proper background. I don't know of many besides the transplants that do, and we're not willing to allow all of them to be on that ship.” He inhaled and then exhaled slowly. “Okay, for the moment, you two are it. Don't disappoint me,” he said severely, eyeing them sternly.
“We'll try not to, sir,” both officers said in unison.
That made Philippe crack a smile in amusement. “Dismissed.”
~<><{<^>}><>~
Captain Clayton's request for a chief engineer allowed Agent Clayton to get his best engineer, Commander Al “Mack” Mackenzie reassigned to the ship from his posting on the carrier, Iliad. It wasn't a complete win to the team however. Mack was inexperienced in some of the modern hardware so ONI was forced to allow Gemma and Leo to remain on board as consultants and assistant chief engineers.
Commodore Logan requested Ensign Weiss and Ensign Jaroslaw to be the ship's medics. The request superseded Captain Clayton's prerogative as well as Admiral N'r'm'll, alienating the human captain slightly, though he said to his XO that he appreciated the commodore's efforts.
Instead, BuShips chose a fresh-faced female Satyre right out of the academy and medical college as the ship's medic. Ensign Light Touch had graduated in the middle of her class but seemed comfortable with the assignment.
The doctor reported on board the day before the ship's formal commissioning ceremony. She hadn't been thrilled about dodging through the enlisted ranks who were busy cleaning the ship, but she'd managed to survive the trip to her office and post without incident.
During the late watch, the ship was slipped out of her berth by tugs and then transferred to the VIP berth for the ceremony. Commander Koba oversaw the transfer and wasn't comfortable until the ship had been moored once more. Careers could be broken by the slip of a tug or at least delayed for months by a JAG investigation she and the skipper didn't want. But they were fortunate to have a tug team on their game.
The following morning the ship's compliment turned out in their dress whites for the ceremony.
They were met by Admiral Childress and most of the senior staff of the navy. Commodore Logan and Rear Admiral Zekowitz were also there along with Vice President Nibs.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. The name of the ship and her registry was entered into a tablet disguised as a ledger book and dutifully signed by Admiral Creator of Things, Admiral Childress, and the ship's captain. Since she didn't have formal orders yet, they were not read in a speech, though there were plenty to go around.
When the last speech was concluded, Admiral Childress personally pressed the button to eject a bottle of champagne against her bow for the cameras. The bottle sailed true and hit just off center on the neck and exploded as planned.
With that out of the way, the party began. The crew was on hand to guide visitors on a tour and to explain the workings of the ship.
Commodore Logan looked over to Zek and winked when they saw Nibs eagerly exploring the ship with a gaggle of reporters on tow behind her. “Some of them are like a kid in a candy store,” the commodore said.
“Well, this is Bek's very first starship. We never built one, and the last starship we had in inventory is now a museum piece,” Zek replied with a shrug.
“I'd forgotten that,” Horatio murmured with a nod.
~<><{<^>}><>~
With Ilmarinen complete, Horatio's design team broke up for the final time. Horatio was reassigned from overseeing the project to overseeing production changes in industry. The planned follow-on ship was shelved due to the lack of a hyperdrive and certain components. He was also required to teach the occasional engineering class at the academy on a weekly basis.
Despite that workload Horatio did his best to keep tabs on Ilmarinen. Admiral Creator of Space tapped him from time to time to answer questions that cropped up.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Ensign Tucker Jaroslaw was surprised when a familiar device was delivered to the VA hospital. He wasn't sure why however. The package was addressed to him so it wasn't a mistake. At least, he hoped it wasn't one. He found a spot in his small office and set it up, but it required too much power for the outlets there.
He checked the chip, apparently, Admiral Bolt had signed off on the delivery. “Curiouser and curiouser,” he murmured.
Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he immediately called maintenance in and had them run an additional dedicated power line for the device. It took a day to get that done and another day to fab up sterile feeder hoppers to supply the device. The thing ate up a lot of space in his closet of an office, but he knew it would be worth it.
It started to prove itself within hours of coming online. He started using it to churn out medication and tissue replacement parts. By the end of the week, he was even more popular than before. He'd also been gratified to see that the hospital administrators had been forced to place additional security on his floor to prevent people from breaking into his office.
The security made him sleep easier, but going home to his apartment for the weekend was still a bit nerve racking initially. He constantly checked on the replicator through his implants and the device's built-in WiFi node.
The following Monday he logged into the hospital network and was surprised to see a gaggle of people waiting patiently at his door. The Terrans wore civilian clothes, though they seemed uncomfortable in them. “Can I help you folks?” he asked.
“You are Ensign Jaroslaw?” one of the Neoapes asked.
He nodded. “That's me.”
“You have the device, right?” the man asked. Tucker nodded slowly. “We're here for our implants,” the guy said.
“Um …”
“Here,” the Terran said. From his haircut, he had to be a marine. Tucker accessed his RF chip in his arm and nodded. “Lieutenant McGuire? How can I help you, sir?”
“This is one of my squads. We volunteered to get implants,” the marine stated. “Look, can we do this somewhere else?” he asked, looking around the hallway.
Tucker noted the orderlies and security guard watching them with curiosity. “Well, I can't fit you all in my closet of an office,” he said with a shake of his head. “What am I expected to do here?” he asked. “I was told not to give anyone implants,” he said with a frown. He was starting to wonder what sort of trouble he was in.
“Didn't you …”
“All I got was the device and a short note saying it was from Logistics,” the ensign replied, crossing his arms. He turned after a moment and keyed the door open, then turned the handle and opened it. “You I think I can fit in here,” he said.
“Right,” the lieutenant said. He glanced inside and grunted. “You weren't kidding,” he said.
“Told you,” Tucker said as he entered the room. The lieutenant followed and then had to maneuver to swing the door shut behind him. “I know, it's tight. If I had some sort of pocket door, I'd save all sorts of room. Guess they didn't think of that,” he said.
“Obviously,” the lieutenant drawled.
“Okay, so, you want implants. I'm guessing this is off the books. Someone is doing this on the sly since certain people don't want it to happen. Powerf
ul people who will have our asses on toast if and when they find out,” Tucker said. “So, the question is, why should I stick my neck out for you?”
“I think it's obvious. You get the device to use to help you here. We get implants. The … powers that be want a test. They heard about them, and not everyone is in favor of what is going on. We know eventually things will change. Hopefully, for the better.”
Tucker nodded slowly.
“Look, Doc, I know you can't do full implants. That would lay my people up and a lot of questions would be asked. But can you do basic ID implants? Better than this thing?” the lieutenant asked, indicating the rice grain-sized chip in his forearm.
“Of course.”
“You are covered. The G … I mean, the powers that be are working with certain other departments. So you won't just get marines here.”
Tucker nodded slowly. He cocked his head and then ran a scan of the lieutenant. It was simple given he was a Terran. He entered the information into the replicator as well as the IFF information he had picked up when he had scanned the lieutenant's RF tag.
“Can you do it, Doc, or not?” the lieutenant demanded.
“I already did,” the ensign replied. He turned and pulled a package of pills out. “This is tailored for you and you alone. It has your IFF built into it.”
“So … what do I do with it? It's not a suppository, is it?” the lieutenant asked, eyeing the package. “I thought you were going to cut me open,” he said, brows knit in confusion.
“Not quite,” Tucker replied with a brief smile. “ID tags are the easiest implants to get. They are the most basic. You swallow these. When you go to bed and fall asleep, they kick in. They will grow the implants in your body.” He held up his right hand. “You'll get a jack here—RF jack as well,” he said pointing to his hand. “From there,” his index and middle finger pointed as if tracing a line up his arm. “It will run a line in your arm to your head. There it will create links to your auditory and optical nerves, then your mastoid bone,” he explained, tapping his ear, pointing to his eye, then fingering his jaw. “It will also create a computer. When you wake up, it will initialize.”