101 uses for a telepath number 93..(!)
SEVENTY-FIVE
Helana Bartleby stopped in at Engineering on her way back to the bridge, adjusting her uniform as she walked. A little to her surprise, Acting Chief Harra was showing the Jestavanian guy Colic… or whatever his name was… about the room. He was pointing out several of the systems and chatting in terminology she barely understood about how things worked. The alien responded with enthusiasm and words that Bartleby suspected Maldak the linguist would love to hear. Words they needed translations for.. They’d both look frustrated and have to think of other ways to say the same thing. Usually it’d work but, sometimes, one or the other of them would decide to change the topic. “Do you think I would be able to learn your systems,” the Jestavanian asked.
Harra shrugged his massive shoulders. “You seem bright enough. You’d need training on the simulators if you don’t want to go to the sector college on Pandera. It might be possible to get you on the bottom rung of the ladder here, as a…” he noticed the confused look on the mottled face. “It’s a saying. You know ladders?” A nod. “Right. Well, uh… Right. You know when you have bars laid out against a wall so you can climb it?” A shake. “Ok. When those bars are horizontal,” he continued, moving his hand from left to right, “and between two much longer bars going up we call that a ladder and the horizontal bars are ‘rungs’. A commander is high up on that ladder…”
“Oh, a Rivvena! We put those against walls to get over them!”
“Sounds right. Anyhow, we call it the ‘command ladder’ when we go up in rank. The first step in any career is getting on the ladder. If I can get you on maintenance, it’d be very low level stuff – practically cleaning up – but it’d put you on that ladder. And keep you on the ship. Then the training can happen here.”
Kohlich shook his head in agreement. He hated these gaps in vocabulary. “It would be appreciated.”
“Well, you did help with the torpedoes… Oh, hey, Helana!” He waved over to the Lappinean. “Utran’s not here. I’ve got him working in the medical centre, making sure their systems are still in good shape.”
“Good to know he’s being useful, Chief.” She nodded a greeting to the Jestavanian. “I’m just greeting you,” she said pleasantly. “I’m not intending any insult or death threats.”
“Ah,” he replied, “I was wondering…” He put his hands behind his back and strutted away as he’d seen some of them do when they wanted to leave the other person wondering if they were being toyed with. She headed off as he asked another question. “What’s the top speed of this vessel anyhow?”
“Well,” Harra demurred, “we tend to call them hyperspace velocities when the engines are in full use. This old lady cruises at velocity 2 and can reach velocity 4 for short periods.” He coughed as he realised Kohlich had no frame of reference. “Uh, velocity two is about 0.75 light years a day. Velocity 4 is double that.”
“So… about 1.5 light years in a day?”
“Yeah. She’s not bad. In our sector, there’s very few ships faster.”
Kohlich was doing some mental arithmetic. “The pursuing ships, if I’m going from your scale and if they’re the best the Nebulans have to offer? They’re doing about the same. How long can you hold your ‘velocity four’?”
Harra figured he wasn’t going to like the next thing the Jestavanian said but figured he had to know. “About an hour. Why?”
Kohlich grimaced, his whle face distorting slightly. “They can hold it for six.”
Her plans to compliment Utran on his method for getting her to sleep thwarted, Helana headed to her duty station, inhaling double strength coffee on the way to make sure she was on full alert status. Nothing was going to get past her ears and eyes for the next few hours! She dodged to one side as she avoided Enzo Carvalho, reclining against the wall next to the holoroom. “School out already, Enzo,” she asked.
He grunted slightly. Several people had asked him that. He played finger tricks with a physical coin he’d found on a planet before answering properly. “Yeah. Got out an hour back,” he told her. “Mz Palla asked me to come with her to the holoroom.”
Helana frowned slightly. “So how come you’re not in there,” she asked, “playing in the sandscape or walking through the meadows?”
He looked up at her with chagrin. “She’s with the dentist,” he explained, before taking a stick out of his pocket and gnawing on it. “Hate the dentist.” He gnawed again, then put the piece of pseudowood away. “Even the lolly he gives is holographic!”
“At least his work holds,” Helana told him, knowing that all the equipment he needed was brought up from stores and loaded into secure storage every morning. Just another job for the maintenance crew. “Got fun planned for after?”
He smirked. “Only if you adults can keep us alive, eh?”
“We’ll try. You have fun waiting at the Doctors…”
She headed off before he could retort ‘Dentist’. She glanced around after he said it. Yup, he was gnawing on that stick again. Her comm beeped.
She pressed the button. <”I sense you want to talk to me,”> Harmony Appleby said. <”Mostly it was the ‘Harmony Appleby, you talk to me right this minute’ thoughts. Couldn’t help but hear them.”>
Helana kept her temper. “I have just met Enzo Carvalho,” she said with intense quietness. “Outside the Dental Office.”
<”Ah. His mother told me to,”> Harmony told her. <”She was worried about him maintaining his teeth so she asked me to help.”>
“So you put in mental commands?”
<”She knew about them and that’s parental consent. I took them out after!”>
“Not all of them, Harmony. Whenever he says ‘dentist’, he has to gnaw something.”
A groan from the other end of the line. <”I’ll see to that.”> A sigh. <”Thanks for telling me, Helana.” She cut the link as Bartleby tossed her coffee cup in the bin and entered the bridge.
“About time you got back, Ensign,” Postain told her. “We’re an hour from the minefield and the ships are about an hour and ten behind us. Take your station.”
Hayseed Citrin shifted out of the station and let her take up her position.
Maldak, for her part, blinked. Just for a second, she’d thought she’d seen something on the extreme long range sensors. A transponder that had gone dark as quickly as it had appeared. If it had been there… “Sir,” she said, “I’m not sure but I THINK we just picked up a signal on sensors. But it was only there for a second before vanishing back out of distance. I’d… I’d say it was a U.S.C. ship, sir.”
“Hmm,” Postain mused… “A new variable...”
U.S.C. RODOMONT
Moderator: ArcWolf
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Welsh Halfwit
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
This is such a great chapter! You are doing some wonderful work with this story!
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
The people you run into in strange places...
SEVENTY-SIX
“Message sent,” Maldak advised the Captain. “With no relay buoy it’ll take about twenty minutes to reach Karrin, sir.”
“Fair enough, Maldak,” Postain replied. “Kridd, you picking up any mines yet?”
The slightly flustered feline checked over his terminal anxiously. He remembered the bang those things had made last time and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to feel one of them up close again. They’d picked up on the radiation before but that had been at close range. Certainly not when they were travelling at such speed as now. All in all, he figured he’d rather be skiing. But, as he wasn’t. “Uh, nothing on the sensors, sir.”
“No sense taking undue risks, sir,” Xarra queried. “Should we get the populace into safe zones?”
“Seems an idea.”
“Alright, Maldak,” Xarra said, enacting her responsibility as executive officer, “send the signal.” She tapped her comm. “Xarra to Yarkin.”
<”Yes, Commander,”> the Feline responded.
“We’re about to go through the minefield and, probably straight thereafter, engage a gaggle of enemy ships. Get security into place and ready to repel any assaults.”
<”Wilco,”> she replied.
The alert sounded as Caldan Ravel read back what he’d written so far. He was sat in his room – he refused to call them quarters as he wasn’t military – and had his feet up on the sofa. He almost sputtered into the tea he’d just started and frowned as the tag from the tea bag he’d forgotten to take out hit him on the nose. And stuck to it. He snorted it free and put the mug down. He took a few seconds to work his memory through what the siren meant and spent the time kicking on his sandals. He flipped his notepad into his pocket, made sure he had his essentials and headed for the door, leaving his mug behind.
The wall panel indicated the nearest safe zone and he followed the blinking light, keeping pace with the others who’d been in their apartments and weren’t hurrying towards their defensive stations. Oh, he told himself, there was Hadrian’s missus. “Mrs Jak,” he said, catching up with her by increasing to a trot.
“Oh,” Simone replied, realising someone was calling her, “it’s Mr Ravel, isn’t it?”
“Nah, it’s Caldan,” he said gallantly as he kept up with her. “How’s things?”
“Not so bad,” she professed. “Not much use for a cartographer in an emergency,” she proclaimed before grimacing. “Wish it was the same for security.”
“Hadrian told me once,” Caldan replied, “that you’re the reason he’s brave. He knows how strong you are and that gives him strength.”
“He said that?”
“Well, the first part,” Caldan admitted as they reached the safe zone. “Rest I kinda inferred. Doesn’t make it a lie though.” He nodded to the Canine Security Officer as they headed in.
“I get how you managed to turn the director’s mind around now,” Simone told him, her left ear flicking at the noise in the zone. “You flattered to deceive him.”
“I did not,” Caldan protested with pride. “I got him to remember the fun of acting’s not in the script but what you do with it.” He invited her to take the first seat.
“Prey before predators,” Simone asked with a smirk.
“I only got a ‘C’ in hunt class.”
“I can believe that,” Doctan Tyla said from behind him. Simone hid her grin behind a hand as the author jumped.
“I knew you were there,” he lied feebly.
“I hope your hero lies better than that.” She gave him a small kiss in welcome. “And that’s not an invite for a… hidden sexual comment?”
“Ab… Ah… Uh… Double entendre,” Caldan said, getting his brains in a row.
“I’m hoping I manage to get back home,” Kira said, making Caldan the meat in a sandwich between her and Simone. He didn’t like the grin on the Cervidian’s face…
“So,” she said with mocked up innocence, “I hear you’ve been seeing someone, Caldan? Anyone I know?”
Caldan gagged as Kira burst into laughter, a strange sound against the tension in the room.
Kridd double checked his readings as Bartleby slowed, believing it inappropriate to blaze through a minefield at full speed. They were about two minutes out now and their pursuers were about to catch up quite quickly. “I’m, er,” he said, wondering how to say he was picking up what seemed to be inconsistent energy readings from the space ahead of them. He didn’t have to worry, though. Captain Postain wasn’t listening.
“This is the exact point we went through,” he demanded of Bartleby.
“Near enough to the metre, sir,” she replied.
“Good enough. Weaps, fire the first torpedo.”
The Canine on weapons replied with the traditional ‘aye, sir’ and launched one of the expensive ordinance weapons. It hissed away silently, towards the deadly devices.
“You were saying, Kridd,” Postain remarked, bringing the ear-nibbled Feline back from his dream state.
“Well, it’s just..” The Feline looked hopeless. “It’s some anomalous readings, sir. In the minefield. There’s signs that some sort of energy field has been in there recently.”
“Hostile?”
“Not that I can tell.”
The Captain eyed him suspiciously. He wanted the deck to open up underneath him and drop him into the toilet block he knew was somewhere below him.
“Keep an eye on it,” Postain grumped, turning back around. They watched the torpedo detonate… and hit nothing. “Half impulse, Bartleby. Take us through.”
Five minutes passed. Bartleby noted the enemy ships shatter into normal space some half a million kilometres behind them to port and angle in on them. Three ships. Great, the Lappinean thought. We had trouble with one. But they were most of the way through the field now. Just a few…
“Sir!” Maldak called, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “We’re being hailed! From ahead of us!” She started chuckling.
“Compose yourself, Maldak,” Postain growled. “Who is it? Identify!”
“It’s one of ours, sir,” she replied. “On screen?”
Postain grimaced as the bandoliered Lappinean appeared in massive form on his bridge screen. <”Captain Postain,”> Commander Hawle greeted with restraint. <“Karrin relayed your message. Sorry it took so long. My, my. Three of them. I presume they know the layout of the minefield?”>
“I would assume so.”
That smile, Postain thought as the Rodomont came out of the field. That annoying, smug, smile. What did the Rabbit know? <”They probably think that too,”> the Commander said. <”Which is why I spent days moving the lot of them about thirty thousand kilometres in either direction.”>
Now, almost despite himself, even Postain laughed as the Nebulan forces hit the first mine. Just slightly, of course.
SEVENTY-SIX
“Message sent,” Maldak advised the Captain. “With no relay buoy it’ll take about twenty minutes to reach Karrin, sir.”
“Fair enough, Maldak,” Postain replied. “Kridd, you picking up any mines yet?”
The slightly flustered feline checked over his terminal anxiously. He remembered the bang those things had made last time and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to feel one of them up close again. They’d picked up on the radiation before but that had been at close range. Certainly not when they were travelling at such speed as now. All in all, he figured he’d rather be skiing. But, as he wasn’t. “Uh, nothing on the sensors, sir.”
“No sense taking undue risks, sir,” Xarra queried. “Should we get the populace into safe zones?”
“Seems an idea.”
“Alright, Maldak,” Xarra said, enacting her responsibility as executive officer, “send the signal.” She tapped her comm. “Xarra to Yarkin.”
<”Yes, Commander,”> the Feline responded.
“We’re about to go through the minefield and, probably straight thereafter, engage a gaggle of enemy ships. Get security into place and ready to repel any assaults.”
<”Wilco,”> she replied.
The alert sounded as Caldan Ravel read back what he’d written so far. He was sat in his room – he refused to call them quarters as he wasn’t military – and had his feet up on the sofa. He almost sputtered into the tea he’d just started and frowned as the tag from the tea bag he’d forgotten to take out hit him on the nose. And stuck to it. He snorted it free and put the mug down. He took a few seconds to work his memory through what the siren meant and spent the time kicking on his sandals. He flipped his notepad into his pocket, made sure he had his essentials and headed for the door, leaving his mug behind.
The wall panel indicated the nearest safe zone and he followed the blinking light, keeping pace with the others who’d been in their apartments and weren’t hurrying towards their defensive stations. Oh, he told himself, there was Hadrian’s missus. “Mrs Jak,” he said, catching up with her by increasing to a trot.
“Oh,” Simone replied, realising someone was calling her, “it’s Mr Ravel, isn’t it?”
“Nah, it’s Caldan,” he said gallantly as he kept up with her. “How’s things?”
“Not so bad,” she professed. “Not much use for a cartographer in an emergency,” she proclaimed before grimacing. “Wish it was the same for security.”
“Hadrian told me once,” Caldan replied, “that you’re the reason he’s brave. He knows how strong you are and that gives him strength.”
“He said that?”
“Well, the first part,” Caldan admitted as they reached the safe zone. “Rest I kinda inferred. Doesn’t make it a lie though.” He nodded to the Canine Security Officer as they headed in.
“I get how you managed to turn the director’s mind around now,” Simone told him, her left ear flicking at the noise in the zone. “You flattered to deceive him.”
“I did not,” Caldan protested with pride. “I got him to remember the fun of acting’s not in the script but what you do with it.” He invited her to take the first seat.
“Prey before predators,” Simone asked with a smirk.
“I only got a ‘C’ in hunt class.”
“I can believe that,” Doctan Tyla said from behind him. Simone hid her grin behind a hand as the author jumped.
“I knew you were there,” he lied feebly.
“I hope your hero lies better than that.” She gave him a small kiss in welcome. “And that’s not an invite for a… hidden sexual comment?”
“Ab… Ah… Uh… Double entendre,” Caldan said, getting his brains in a row.
“I’m hoping I manage to get back home,” Kira said, making Caldan the meat in a sandwich between her and Simone. He didn’t like the grin on the Cervidian’s face…
“So,” she said with mocked up innocence, “I hear you’ve been seeing someone, Caldan? Anyone I know?”
Caldan gagged as Kira burst into laughter, a strange sound against the tension in the room.
Kridd double checked his readings as Bartleby slowed, believing it inappropriate to blaze through a minefield at full speed. They were about two minutes out now and their pursuers were about to catch up quite quickly. “I’m, er,” he said, wondering how to say he was picking up what seemed to be inconsistent energy readings from the space ahead of them. He didn’t have to worry, though. Captain Postain wasn’t listening.
“This is the exact point we went through,” he demanded of Bartleby.
“Near enough to the metre, sir,” she replied.
“Good enough. Weaps, fire the first torpedo.”
The Canine on weapons replied with the traditional ‘aye, sir’ and launched one of the expensive ordinance weapons. It hissed away silently, towards the deadly devices.
“You were saying, Kridd,” Postain remarked, bringing the ear-nibbled Feline back from his dream state.
“Well, it’s just..” The Feline looked hopeless. “It’s some anomalous readings, sir. In the minefield. There’s signs that some sort of energy field has been in there recently.”
“Hostile?”
“Not that I can tell.”
The Captain eyed him suspiciously. He wanted the deck to open up underneath him and drop him into the toilet block he knew was somewhere below him.
“Keep an eye on it,” Postain grumped, turning back around. They watched the torpedo detonate… and hit nothing. “Half impulse, Bartleby. Take us through.”
Five minutes passed. Bartleby noted the enemy ships shatter into normal space some half a million kilometres behind them to port and angle in on them. Three ships. Great, the Lappinean thought. We had trouble with one. But they were most of the way through the field now. Just a few…
“Sir!” Maldak called, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “We’re being hailed! From ahead of us!” She started chuckling.
“Compose yourself, Maldak,” Postain growled. “Who is it? Identify!”
“It’s one of ours, sir,” she replied. “On screen?”
Postain grimaced as the bandoliered Lappinean appeared in massive form on his bridge screen. <”Captain Postain,”> Commander Hawle greeted with restraint. <“Karrin relayed your message. Sorry it took so long. My, my. Three of them. I presume they know the layout of the minefield?”>
“I would assume so.”
That smile, Postain thought as the Rodomont came out of the field. That annoying, smug, smile. What did the Rabbit know? <”They probably think that too,”> the Commander said. <”Which is why I spent days moving the lot of them about thirty thousand kilometres in either direction.”>
Now, almost despite himself, even Postain laughed as the Nebulan forces hit the first mine. Just slightly, of course.
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Enjoying reading all of this in my spare time! Keep up the good work!
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Had you guessed what the Loper had been up to?
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Not yet but then again I'm not good at guessing things. I have to be told outright.
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
He already did. That minefield the Rodomont went through on the way to the Star Council? Hawle's spent a few days moving every mine.
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
SEVENTY-SEVEN
The enemy ships stalled, the third one stopping short of the adjusted minefield as the other two were battered by explosions. Postain noted the ship heading towards the hole that they’d gone through, obviously the safe route. Now, though, the situation had changed drastically. “Bartleby,” he instructed, “turn us around. Riltan, weapons to full power. Maldak, get that ship on comms.”
He waited as the three complied. “What are you planning to say,” Xarra enquired.
“Just a few things off the top of my head.” he watched as the ship nosed its way through towards them. “Keep us back, Bartleby,” he remarked. “We don’t want to be shot by that weapon again.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Fighters to ready status, Xarra.”
“On it.”
Maldak turned towards the command staff. “I have the ship, sir.”
“Put her on.”
The screen flicked to an angry looking face, glaring at them from amongst the other figures around him. The figure began to speak but Postain cut him off. “I don’t care for your name or rank,” Postain snapped. “You decided to attack a retreating ship with overwhelming odds and got hit by your own booby trap! I have little sympathy for your plight due to your faulty maps! Your situation has now changed but ours has not! We are still leaving the field of conflict. Your only choice is whether we blow the hell out of you first. Your two compatriots are crippled and YOU are their only help. You can either help them and save the lives of all your fellows or engage us and ensure everyone on all your ships die. Your choice.”
<“This is not over.”>
Postain growled. “Oh, yes it is. Karrin is defended again. If you people are stupid enough to open up a new front with a complete, fresh, new enemy, that’s your grave.” The Cadan on screen looked down to his side, apparently noting a transmission.
<”I have my orders,”> he said, with a hint of reluctance. The link cut out.
“It came from one of the other ships, Captain,” Maldak told the bridge. “They don’t want Flakk and the files he has to get back to our space.”
“Launch fighters,” he ordered.
“We are a pilot or two down, sir,” Xarra prompted.
Postain groused for a few seconds. “Clear her to fly.”
Senny didn’t know what had happened to change the Captain’s mind but she wasn’t going to argue with it. She finished pulling on her suit last as the others got into their ships and she pulled her helmet on and the names of pilots appeared in her helmet display. She hoped Yarkin had taken the time to disconnect the restraint cuff from the systems that would electrocute her if she got into a fighter. She grimaced as she took the cockpit and pulled the canopy shut. No shock hit her system. She was free and clear. Well, free, clear and about to head into deadly conflict. Which, she supposed, was no place to learn as a leader. She opened up communications to her wing. “So’s you know, I’m with you today. First time in direct combat for a while so Katz, you’re lead.”
<”I’ll try to do your best, Flight,”> the Human replied.
“You better! Lead on!”
She followed the Human out into the void, coming a second or so after the rest of the flight simply to make sure she didn’t hit anyone on the turn. Actual fighter piloting wasn’t quite as it was in the hologram room. The effect of gravity wasn’t the same when you turned. The fear wasn’t the same when you gought computer simulations and you could learn to predict their movements. Rusty wasn’t just a Raccoon in kids vids. She knew the seven of them were about to face dozens of those drone things. She cast aside the feeling of fear. Put it in a pocket to be ignored later.
They were beginning to launch their drones, Postain noted. “Riltan,” he ordered, “don’t stand on ceremony. The Loper’s fifteen out before she can assist. I want them in pieces before the Rabbit gets here. Open fire.”
The Canine weapons Officer nodded curtly in reply and powered the forward weapons to cut a path through the drones as well as directly on the ship. His fire exploded several of the remote control vessels and scratched the surface of the Ikarran ship’s shields. They fired back, shuddering the recent repairs under the Rodomont’s shields as the vessel approached. Their forward speed was faster than the Rodomonts’ reverse thrusters could match, despite Bartleby and Harra tasking them as efficiently as they could. Riltan decided to take the initiative and launch a torpedo.
“Did I tell you to do that, Riltan,” Postain demanded of him.
“With everything but an order, Captain,” Riltan replied as the powerful explosive slammed into the opponents’ shielding, delivering a whallop of far more effect than the phased energy beams had.
“Next time, you wait for the order,” Postain warned. The effect had stopped the oncoming vehicle, he supposed. Or slowed it at any rate. Shame they only had four more left.
Senny pushed her fighter hard to port and tried to hide the exhilaration she was feeling as she lined up one of the drones in her sights and fired, splashing the thing to infinity before twisting in a corkscrew to get out of the way of another. These things were, it seemed, everywhere. She could hear Katz order Two and Four to clear the things off the tails as they advanced on the main ship. She could see the other two main ships in the far distance and wondered why they weren’t joining in the assault. She cast that aside, though. One deadly encounter at a time, thanks.
“Send a pair of torpedoes at the ships in the minefield,” Postain mused, seemingly thinking better of not using what he had. “Either one, Riltan. Let’s see what this sod does.”
Riltan, as soon as he got the chance through incoming fire, complied and the twin missiles sped out, past the incoming ship. It responded, sending most of its drones after the incoming.
“Postain to Fighters. Don’t say I don’t do things for you! You know where to target! Get to it!”
The enemy ships stalled, the third one stopping short of the adjusted minefield as the other two were battered by explosions. Postain noted the ship heading towards the hole that they’d gone through, obviously the safe route. Now, though, the situation had changed drastically. “Bartleby,” he instructed, “turn us around. Riltan, weapons to full power. Maldak, get that ship on comms.”
He waited as the three complied. “What are you planning to say,” Xarra enquired.
“Just a few things off the top of my head.” he watched as the ship nosed its way through towards them. “Keep us back, Bartleby,” he remarked. “We don’t want to be shot by that weapon again.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Fighters to ready status, Xarra.”
“On it.”
Maldak turned towards the command staff. “I have the ship, sir.”
“Put her on.”
The screen flicked to an angry looking face, glaring at them from amongst the other figures around him. The figure began to speak but Postain cut him off. “I don’t care for your name or rank,” Postain snapped. “You decided to attack a retreating ship with overwhelming odds and got hit by your own booby trap! I have little sympathy for your plight due to your faulty maps! Your situation has now changed but ours has not! We are still leaving the field of conflict. Your only choice is whether we blow the hell out of you first. Your two compatriots are crippled and YOU are their only help. You can either help them and save the lives of all your fellows or engage us and ensure everyone on all your ships die. Your choice.”
<“This is not over.”>
Postain growled. “Oh, yes it is. Karrin is defended again. If you people are stupid enough to open up a new front with a complete, fresh, new enemy, that’s your grave.” The Cadan on screen looked down to his side, apparently noting a transmission.
<”I have my orders,”> he said, with a hint of reluctance. The link cut out.
“It came from one of the other ships, Captain,” Maldak told the bridge. “They don’t want Flakk and the files he has to get back to our space.”
“Launch fighters,” he ordered.
“We are a pilot or two down, sir,” Xarra prompted.
Postain groused for a few seconds. “Clear her to fly.”
Senny didn’t know what had happened to change the Captain’s mind but she wasn’t going to argue with it. She finished pulling on her suit last as the others got into their ships and she pulled her helmet on and the names of pilots appeared in her helmet display. She hoped Yarkin had taken the time to disconnect the restraint cuff from the systems that would electrocute her if she got into a fighter. She grimaced as she took the cockpit and pulled the canopy shut. No shock hit her system. She was free and clear. Well, free, clear and about to head into deadly conflict. Which, she supposed, was no place to learn as a leader. She opened up communications to her wing. “So’s you know, I’m with you today. First time in direct combat for a while so Katz, you’re lead.”
<”I’ll try to do your best, Flight,”> the Human replied.
“You better! Lead on!”
She followed the Human out into the void, coming a second or so after the rest of the flight simply to make sure she didn’t hit anyone on the turn. Actual fighter piloting wasn’t quite as it was in the hologram room. The effect of gravity wasn’t the same when you turned. The fear wasn’t the same when you gought computer simulations and you could learn to predict their movements. Rusty wasn’t just a Raccoon in kids vids. She knew the seven of them were about to face dozens of those drone things. She cast aside the feeling of fear. Put it in a pocket to be ignored later.
They were beginning to launch their drones, Postain noted. “Riltan,” he ordered, “don’t stand on ceremony. The Loper’s fifteen out before she can assist. I want them in pieces before the Rabbit gets here. Open fire.”
The Canine weapons Officer nodded curtly in reply and powered the forward weapons to cut a path through the drones as well as directly on the ship. His fire exploded several of the remote control vessels and scratched the surface of the Ikarran ship’s shields. They fired back, shuddering the recent repairs under the Rodomont’s shields as the vessel approached. Their forward speed was faster than the Rodomonts’ reverse thrusters could match, despite Bartleby and Harra tasking them as efficiently as they could. Riltan decided to take the initiative and launch a torpedo.
“Did I tell you to do that, Riltan,” Postain demanded of him.
“With everything but an order, Captain,” Riltan replied as the powerful explosive slammed into the opponents’ shielding, delivering a whallop of far more effect than the phased energy beams had.
“Next time, you wait for the order,” Postain warned. The effect had stopped the oncoming vehicle, he supposed. Or slowed it at any rate. Shame they only had four more left.
Senny pushed her fighter hard to port and tried to hide the exhilaration she was feeling as she lined up one of the drones in her sights and fired, splashing the thing to infinity before twisting in a corkscrew to get out of the way of another. These things were, it seemed, everywhere. She could hear Katz order Two and Four to clear the things off the tails as they advanced on the main ship. She could see the other two main ships in the far distance and wondered why they weren’t joining in the assault. She cast that aside, though. One deadly encounter at a time, thanks.
“Send a pair of torpedoes at the ships in the minefield,” Postain mused, seemingly thinking better of not using what he had. “Either one, Riltan. Let’s see what this sod does.”
Riltan, as soon as he got the chance through incoming fire, complied and the twin missiles sped out, past the incoming ship. It responded, sending most of its drones after the incoming.
“Postain to Fighters. Don’t say I don’t do things for you! You know where to target! Get to it!”
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
I am starting to get the feeling Hawle and Postain don't get along too much. I wonder why that is? One dating the other's ex maybe? 
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Welsh Halfwit
- Posts: 14139
- Joined: Sun Mar 17, 2013 3:09 am
- Location: Wales, a luverrly land with noisy neighbours.
Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Postain watched as the small ships milled around with great purpose, targetting the antennae array under the shield as the larger ship thumped away at the self same barrier. He noted the torpedoes striving to stay ahead of the drones and beginning to fail. They’d only have a few moments more, he reckoned as the screen flashed yellow, the impact following a few seconds later. The video link fizzed for a few seconds before stabilizing. Something else to be repaired, he reckoned. The butcher’s bill for this one was going to be quite high. He didn’t look forward to the reports and the reactions of the accountants at Talvary if they got back. Maybe he’d be asked to retire. Well, he told himself, that’d make things easier with Chichester… and where had THAT thought come from, he wondered? Still, he’d get to spend time with her. Something to look forward to. He put his foot down on the deckplates as they shook. Kridd said something about shields being down to sixty percent. He nodded, then remembered Kridd was behind him. “Keep an eye on it,” he intoned. “Any clue as to their capabilities?”
“No, but…” The Feline looked up as the antennae on the opposition ship exploded in a small blast after being hit by the fighters, “...I’d say there’s some holes, sir.”
“Nice shot, Kilbitz,” Senny called, forgetting she wasn’t in the lead here. “They’ll probably switch to another antennae quickly so, if you see one poking out, shoot it!”
<”Uh, Commander,”> Katz said, over a private channel, <”you remember that bit about you not being the lead?”>
Senny grimaced, although she found it quite funny. “Of course,” she replied over the same channel, “you want to tell them that?”
<”I might have,”> he said with an amused tone of voice. <”As it happens, I agree.”> They dodged anti fighter fire as they sought out the next antennae. The smaller scale energy cannons streaked fire across the expanse, striking shot after shot into the Rodomont’s shields. <”Though we probably should do something about those cannons,”> Katz added.
“Agreed. Split the group, Katz.”
“What do you plan to do after all this, Kira,” Simone asked the Doctan across Caldan’s chest. He was sat, trying to be invisible, between them as they talked about him and Tyla’s experiences on the ship. She’d told of her enthusiasm for the strange foods and the strange peoples she’d met. She’d talked of the personal relationships she’d made (and Simone had noticed the squeezing of Caldan’s hand as she’d said that) and the progress they’d made in sorting out Karrin’s issues and the bed mate she’d made. That was the point that really had Caldan gagging with surprise. Since then he’d tried to be invisible.
“I’ll go back down to Karrin,” she told the Cervidian. “Back to my day work. The hospital still needs Doctans, after all. The medical packs will help but they still need hands to use them.” She sighed. “I see the end of a dark time for Karrin,” she said as the ship shook heavily. “I just hope I live TO see the light. What are your plans, Caldan,” she asked, patting his hand.
“Uh,” he asked, returning to life from a world of internal monologuing about script and verse. “Well, I’ve, er, gotta write a book,” he confessed.
“And you need to write that on Celica,” Simone asked, clearly amused by something.
“Uh, well…” The ship shook again. “I don’t HAVE to…” His ears pricked up. “Am I being set up for something?”
“I think,” Tyla said humorously, “that she’s inferring that, with trade links, Karrin’s as good a place to write it as any.” She shrugged. “Consider the offer made, is all.”
“Uh… Thanks?” he chuckled. “I’d, uh, have to clear everything with the Council but, um, I could certainly…”
“We’ve flustered the hunter,” Simone remarked, leaning across him.
“Yup,” Tyla responded. “Definite signs of discomfit and awkwardness.”
Simone glanced up into Caldan’s eyes. “Also confusion,” she noted.
Tyla copied the motion and agreed. “Oh, yes. Definite confusion,” she agreed before giving him a kiss on the lips. He didn’t pull back. His brain wasn’t quite working properly for the moment. It was, he thought, a survival mechanism.
“More slips and falls,” Flakk grumbled as he treated security in the passageways. He’d had numerous bruised bonces from wall impacts, the odd cracked wrist and ankle and one case of sea sickness, which had taken him by surprise. But most of them were on their feet now, except for one of the cracked ankles. She was in a seat with orders not to move unless under direct threat. She’d joked that all she’d be able to do, even in that situation, would be to push herself down to the floor and fire back from a snipers’ position. He appreciated that.
Hadrian Jak, her squad leader, was keeping watch on everything going on around them. He was ready for boarding teams this time. They had several of the Jestavanian weapons ready for use. “The waiting’s the hardest thing, Doc,” he opined.
Flakk grunted. “Anyone who thinks that’s never been in a real fight, Hadrian. Figured you’d know better.”
Hadrian shrugged, extending his antlers into battle blades. “We all know that, Doc. It’s just a good phrase, is all. Like ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’.”
“I hate that phrase,” he replied, twisting a Canine’s shoulder back into it’s socket to a gasp of pain.
“Was that…” the Canine panted, “an extra hard yank because he’d annoyed you?” He held the arm, which he’d damaged by falling into a bulkhead, close to his side.
“No,” Flakk said honestly. “And move that arm around. Not much use pinioning it to you. All done here.” The medic made his way to the next group.
The Rodomont bridge was quiet except for the shaking. They had twenty percent left on the shields, Kridd reckoned, and the weapons were running hot. Postain noted the fighters had worked on disabling antennae and anti fighter weapons and he was proud of them. He was even proud of HER. Not that he’d tell her, of course. They were winning the fight, one on one. The others were afraid to move but he knew he couldn’t rely on that forever.
“Her shields are down,” Kridd called, beginning to sound more confident.
“Good,” Postain replied. “Bartleby, Postain seven. Riltan, destroy her engines.”
Harra caught the Jestavanian before her crashed to the floor. It seemed like the decent thing to do, considering he’d been helping in Engineering. He’d not been able to do anything important, of course, but the Equinna had told him how to read the output from the power console and he’d done it well, allowing the Chief to work on other systems, keeping the power going. The place was still shaking. “Not like I could return you broken, is it,” he asked Kohlich.
“Preferably not… sir,” the local replied, looking up at the mighty alien. He’d been surprised by the speed of the behemoth in turning and holding him gently but securely.
“Don’t call me sir,” he chided. “I’m an engineer.”
The Jestavanian vessel hung there now, its engines damaged almost beyond repair. Postain didn’t much care. “Maldak,” he said. “Put this out on general broadcast.” He stayed sat. “We told you we weren’t going to get involved beyond the extremes of our remit. You chose not to believe us. We’re taking the information on your virus so we can make sure it never becomes a threat to us. We will not supply it to the Star Council. They will make their own. Round about now is when smart people consider that, sooner or later, oppositions have to TALK to END war! If they can, now, cure it, you have LOST one of your main weapons of war. The time for talk is now. If you’re smart. Which I doubt you are. So I am forced to give you a final warning. Leave. Us. Alone. Or face a new war. Riltan? Katz? Destroy that ship’s weapons.”
And the firing began again.
Postain watched as the small ships milled around with great purpose, targetting the antennae array under the shield as the larger ship thumped away at the self same barrier. He noted the torpedoes striving to stay ahead of the drones and beginning to fail. They’d only have a few moments more, he reckoned as the screen flashed yellow, the impact following a few seconds later. The video link fizzed for a few seconds before stabilizing. Something else to be repaired, he reckoned. The butcher’s bill for this one was going to be quite high. He didn’t look forward to the reports and the reactions of the accountants at Talvary if they got back. Maybe he’d be asked to retire. Well, he told himself, that’d make things easier with Chichester… and where had THAT thought come from, he wondered? Still, he’d get to spend time with her. Something to look forward to. He put his foot down on the deckplates as they shook. Kridd said something about shields being down to sixty percent. He nodded, then remembered Kridd was behind him. “Keep an eye on it,” he intoned. “Any clue as to their capabilities?”
“No, but…” The Feline looked up as the antennae on the opposition ship exploded in a small blast after being hit by the fighters, “...I’d say there’s some holes, sir.”
“Nice shot, Kilbitz,” Senny called, forgetting she wasn’t in the lead here. “They’ll probably switch to another antennae quickly so, if you see one poking out, shoot it!”
<”Uh, Commander,”> Katz said, over a private channel, <”you remember that bit about you not being the lead?”>
Senny grimaced, although she found it quite funny. “Of course,” she replied over the same channel, “you want to tell them that?”
<”I might have,”> he said with an amused tone of voice. <”As it happens, I agree.”> They dodged anti fighter fire as they sought out the next antennae. The smaller scale energy cannons streaked fire across the expanse, striking shot after shot into the Rodomont’s shields. <”Though we probably should do something about those cannons,”> Katz added.
“Agreed. Split the group, Katz.”
“What do you plan to do after all this, Kira,” Simone asked the Doctan across Caldan’s chest. He was sat, trying to be invisible, between them as they talked about him and Tyla’s experiences on the ship. She’d told of her enthusiasm for the strange foods and the strange peoples she’d met. She’d talked of the personal relationships she’d made (and Simone had noticed the squeezing of Caldan’s hand as she’d said that) and the progress they’d made in sorting out Karrin’s issues and the bed mate she’d made. That was the point that really had Caldan gagging with surprise. Since then he’d tried to be invisible.
“I’ll go back down to Karrin,” she told the Cervidian. “Back to my day work. The hospital still needs Doctans, after all. The medical packs will help but they still need hands to use them.” She sighed. “I see the end of a dark time for Karrin,” she said as the ship shook heavily. “I just hope I live TO see the light. What are your plans, Caldan,” she asked, patting his hand.
“Uh,” he asked, returning to life from a world of internal monologuing about script and verse. “Well, I’ve, er, gotta write a book,” he confessed.
“And you need to write that on Celica,” Simone asked, clearly amused by something.
“Uh, well…” The ship shook again. “I don’t HAVE to…” His ears pricked up. “Am I being set up for something?”
“I think,” Tyla said humorously, “that she’s inferring that, with trade links, Karrin’s as good a place to write it as any.” She shrugged. “Consider the offer made, is all.”
“Uh… Thanks?” he chuckled. “I’d, uh, have to clear everything with the Council but, um, I could certainly…”
“We’ve flustered the hunter,” Simone remarked, leaning across him.
“Yup,” Tyla responded. “Definite signs of discomfit and awkwardness.”
Simone glanced up into Caldan’s eyes. “Also confusion,” she noted.
Tyla copied the motion and agreed. “Oh, yes. Definite confusion,” she agreed before giving him a kiss on the lips. He didn’t pull back. His brain wasn’t quite working properly for the moment. It was, he thought, a survival mechanism.
“More slips and falls,” Flakk grumbled as he treated security in the passageways. He’d had numerous bruised bonces from wall impacts, the odd cracked wrist and ankle and one case of sea sickness, which had taken him by surprise. But most of them were on their feet now, except for one of the cracked ankles. She was in a seat with orders not to move unless under direct threat. She’d joked that all she’d be able to do, even in that situation, would be to push herself down to the floor and fire back from a snipers’ position. He appreciated that.
Hadrian Jak, her squad leader, was keeping watch on everything going on around them. He was ready for boarding teams this time. They had several of the Jestavanian weapons ready for use. “The waiting’s the hardest thing, Doc,” he opined.
Flakk grunted. “Anyone who thinks that’s never been in a real fight, Hadrian. Figured you’d know better.”
Hadrian shrugged, extending his antlers into battle blades. “We all know that, Doc. It’s just a good phrase, is all. Like ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’.”
“I hate that phrase,” he replied, twisting a Canine’s shoulder back into it’s socket to a gasp of pain.
“Was that…” the Canine panted, “an extra hard yank because he’d annoyed you?” He held the arm, which he’d damaged by falling into a bulkhead, close to his side.
“No,” Flakk said honestly. “And move that arm around. Not much use pinioning it to you. All done here.” The medic made his way to the next group.
The Rodomont bridge was quiet except for the shaking. They had twenty percent left on the shields, Kridd reckoned, and the weapons were running hot. Postain noted the fighters had worked on disabling antennae and anti fighter weapons and he was proud of them. He was even proud of HER. Not that he’d tell her, of course. They were winning the fight, one on one. The others were afraid to move but he knew he couldn’t rely on that forever.
“Her shields are down,” Kridd called, beginning to sound more confident.
“Good,” Postain replied. “Bartleby, Postain seven. Riltan, destroy her engines.”
Harra caught the Jestavanian before her crashed to the floor. It seemed like the decent thing to do, considering he’d been helping in Engineering. He’d not been able to do anything important, of course, but the Equinna had told him how to read the output from the power console and he’d done it well, allowing the Chief to work on other systems, keeping the power going. The place was still shaking. “Not like I could return you broken, is it,” he asked Kohlich.
“Preferably not… sir,” the local replied, looking up at the mighty alien. He’d been surprised by the speed of the behemoth in turning and holding him gently but securely.
“Don’t call me sir,” he chided. “I’m an engineer.”
The Jestavanian vessel hung there now, its engines damaged almost beyond repair. Postain didn’t much care. “Maldak,” he said. “Put this out on general broadcast.” He stayed sat. “We told you we weren’t going to get involved beyond the extremes of our remit. You chose not to believe us. We’re taking the information on your virus so we can make sure it never becomes a threat to us. We will not supply it to the Star Council. They will make their own. Round about now is when smart people consider that, sooner or later, oppositions have to TALK to END war! If they can, now, cure it, you have LOST one of your main weapons of war. The time for talk is now. If you’re smart. Which I doubt you are. So I am forced to give you a final warning. Leave. Us. Alone. Or face a new war. Riltan? Katz? Destroy that ship’s weapons.”
And the firing began again.
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Amazee Dayzee
- Posts: 25950
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Was wondering when there would be more weapons fired! Nice work!
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Welsh Halfwit
- Posts: 14139
- Joined: Sun Mar 17, 2013 3:09 am
- Location: Wales, a luverrly land with noisy neighbours.
Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
SEVENTY-NINE
The Rodomont turned its back on the enemy, allowing the fighters to land in emergency fashion before what was coming next. Kridd had noticed it immediately the Nebulan ships weapons had been destroyed. A sharp power build up in the core opposite. The ship was going to explode. Rather quickly and explosively, as Xarra put it.
“Explosions usually are explosive, Commander,” Postain remarked, “Bartleby, go to velocity one as soon as the fighters are secured…”
“We might not have that time…” Kridd warned.
“They’re locked down,” Maldak called.
“Engage,” Postain commanded.
Bartleby dialled up the drive and engaged as the ship exploded.
The ship had begun to move, getting up to speed, and, if it hadn’t been, the damage would have been considerably worse at that range. Pieces of the ship shattered against the shields before penetrating the electric force barrier and raining down on the engines and hull. Shards ripped into the skin, breaching several locations along the hull and crashing into the engine manifolds, knocking them offline before they could fully engage. Harra fought to keep the entire complex coming down as Kerri did her best to hold on to something as the ship pitched forward violently. She fell and yelped as Kohlich, holding onto a railing with one hand, grabbed her tail with his other and the pair dangled over the core, that was suddenly at ninety degrees to where it had been a few seconds ago, with the inertial dampeners offline. “Notaway tograba ladybutI’mnot complaining!”
“Oh yes you… are!” Kohlich called back, the strain visible on his face as he tried not to let go of either her or the railing. He could see the cracked and broken figures of other engineers at the far end of the room and… “I don’t… know if I can… hang on!” He felt the ship begin to right itself but it was going to be touch and…
...a large hand clamped itself around his wrist and pulled him up. Harra was standing against the railings and crouched to reach through and grab the alien. He hauled him up and around to the point where he was standing and holding Kohlich up. “Hiboss,” Kerri said, gripping the railing so Kohlich could let go of her tail. The world started to return to normal perspective and the Chief found himself lying on his side on the floor as the stabilizers compensated. A figure slid down the far wall. Corncob scampered to check on her but Kohlich didn’t hold out much hope. She’d fallen past him so it was at least fifty feet she’d fallen and that was if he’d gotten the strange measurement right. It was about 73 Teurans to his eyes. Far enough. And then there was the red splatter on the wall above her. Corncob called for a medic. Perhaps she wasn’t gone? Perhaps.
Kerri dusted herself down and checked her tail was still attached before thanking Kohlich and zipping off to fix things.
As the medical teams worked on fixing people who’d been caught in the corridors during the lurch, Postain was thankful the chairs on the bridge had belts to hold the crew into their seats. Even so, it had been… uncomfortable… hanging over the main screen like a Dog of Damocles. His thoughts had gone back to the holiday with Chichester and the tree climbing he’d insisted she didn’t take pictures of so the crew could never find out about by her social media pages. He was well aware that at least thirty of her three hundred thousand followers were on this ship. The ship righted under Bartleby’s desperate ministrations, using thrusters to arrest the upward spin and level things out. “Gotta be careful, sir,” she called out. “According to this, the underside thrusters are inoperative.”
“Not surprised,” Xarra remarked. “How are the rest of the engines?”
Bartleby ran a check on her systems, trying to blot out the crying and pained moans her superb hearing could hear from the area outside the bridge. “I wouldn’t like to push the engines,” she admitted. “Velocity two seems like it should be manageable, but engineering should check.”
“We need to get away from here,” Postain decided. “Point us at the Loper. Velocity one.”
Bartleby complied as Postain checked in with engineering. Harra reported that he wouldn’t advise it until he’d had a chance to get out and check but he saw the benefits of leaving the area as opposed to waiting for them to get through the minefield.
The secure zones had their own gravity stabilizers so hadn’t had such a violent lurch as the rest of the ship but they had twisted forward to a degree anyhow and Enzo Carvalho had needed to reach out and stop the girl of his dreams from staggering past as she wasn’t sat in her chair despite the teachers’ protestations. He’d have to tell his mom about this. She fell against his arm and grabbed on to steady herself before stopping. She turned to him. “Thanks, Enzo,” she said, pushing a bit of fur that had never been in her eyeline out of it. Enzo wondered about those fur extensions she was wearing to emulate the long head fur some Human females wore.
“Uh, no… no problem, Ella,” Was he holding her hand too tight? He figured he might be but. “Uh, I got a seat here,” he said, indicating the one next to him.
“Uh, thanks,” the girl said, melting his brain with her smile. “It’s easier than climbing back to mine.” She pushed up and he pulled and she passed by him to sit in the seat. A moment passed as she strapped in. He could feel something like an electric pulse down the side closest to her. It was awkward. He shuffled. His throat was dry and she’d noticed somehow. She smiled at him. “You’re nervous,” she asked, thinking it was the situation outside. He nodded. “Captain’ll sort it out,” she said, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze and almost giving him a panic attack. He thought back to Caldan. He thought to Martin and Hadrian. He thought of Doctor Flakk and what he’d say. Just spit it out! “El...El… Ella?”
She laughed gently. “Yes, yes, yes?”
“Do… Do you have a boyfriend?”
The Raitchian girl considered her answer, looking at the far wall. “Yes,” she said eventually. Then she squeezed his hand again and looked him in the eye. “At least I think so, eh? So, where’s the first date, eh?”
Enzo really needed the loo.
“Coming up on the Loper now,” Maldak said. “They’re calling.”
“Answer them,” Postain ordered before making an aside to Xarra. “Never thought I’d be glad to see that Rabbit,” he said.
<”Dawton,”> a voice said from the main screen, <”I hope you recorded that. I might need it for evidence.”>
Postain facepalmed. He blamed Maldak.
The Rodomont turned its back on the enemy, allowing the fighters to land in emergency fashion before what was coming next. Kridd had noticed it immediately the Nebulan ships weapons had been destroyed. A sharp power build up in the core opposite. The ship was going to explode. Rather quickly and explosively, as Xarra put it.
“Explosions usually are explosive, Commander,” Postain remarked, “Bartleby, go to velocity one as soon as the fighters are secured…”
“We might not have that time…” Kridd warned.
“They’re locked down,” Maldak called.
“Engage,” Postain commanded.
Bartleby dialled up the drive and engaged as the ship exploded.
The ship had begun to move, getting up to speed, and, if it hadn’t been, the damage would have been considerably worse at that range. Pieces of the ship shattered against the shields before penetrating the electric force barrier and raining down on the engines and hull. Shards ripped into the skin, breaching several locations along the hull and crashing into the engine manifolds, knocking them offline before they could fully engage. Harra fought to keep the entire complex coming down as Kerri did her best to hold on to something as the ship pitched forward violently. She fell and yelped as Kohlich, holding onto a railing with one hand, grabbed her tail with his other and the pair dangled over the core, that was suddenly at ninety degrees to where it had been a few seconds ago, with the inertial dampeners offline. “Notaway tograba ladybutI’mnot complaining!”
“Oh yes you… are!” Kohlich called back, the strain visible on his face as he tried not to let go of either her or the railing. He could see the cracked and broken figures of other engineers at the far end of the room and… “I don’t… know if I can… hang on!” He felt the ship begin to right itself but it was going to be touch and…
...a large hand clamped itself around his wrist and pulled him up. Harra was standing against the railings and crouched to reach through and grab the alien. He hauled him up and around to the point where he was standing and holding Kohlich up. “Hiboss,” Kerri said, gripping the railing so Kohlich could let go of her tail. The world started to return to normal perspective and the Chief found himself lying on his side on the floor as the stabilizers compensated. A figure slid down the far wall. Corncob scampered to check on her but Kohlich didn’t hold out much hope. She’d fallen past him so it was at least fifty feet she’d fallen and that was if he’d gotten the strange measurement right. It was about 73 Teurans to his eyes. Far enough. And then there was the red splatter on the wall above her. Corncob called for a medic. Perhaps she wasn’t gone? Perhaps.
Kerri dusted herself down and checked her tail was still attached before thanking Kohlich and zipping off to fix things.
As the medical teams worked on fixing people who’d been caught in the corridors during the lurch, Postain was thankful the chairs on the bridge had belts to hold the crew into their seats. Even so, it had been… uncomfortable… hanging over the main screen like a Dog of Damocles. His thoughts had gone back to the holiday with Chichester and the tree climbing he’d insisted she didn’t take pictures of so the crew could never find out about by her social media pages. He was well aware that at least thirty of her three hundred thousand followers were on this ship. The ship righted under Bartleby’s desperate ministrations, using thrusters to arrest the upward spin and level things out. “Gotta be careful, sir,” she called out. “According to this, the underside thrusters are inoperative.”
“Not surprised,” Xarra remarked. “How are the rest of the engines?”
Bartleby ran a check on her systems, trying to blot out the crying and pained moans her superb hearing could hear from the area outside the bridge. “I wouldn’t like to push the engines,” she admitted. “Velocity two seems like it should be manageable, but engineering should check.”
“We need to get away from here,” Postain decided. “Point us at the Loper. Velocity one.”
Bartleby complied as Postain checked in with engineering. Harra reported that he wouldn’t advise it until he’d had a chance to get out and check but he saw the benefits of leaving the area as opposed to waiting for them to get through the minefield.
The secure zones had their own gravity stabilizers so hadn’t had such a violent lurch as the rest of the ship but they had twisted forward to a degree anyhow and Enzo Carvalho had needed to reach out and stop the girl of his dreams from staggering past as she wasn’t sat in her chair despite the teachers’ protestations. He’d have to tell his mom about this. She fell against his arm and grabbed on to steady herself before stopping. She turned to him. “Thanks, Enzo,” she said, pushing a bit of fur that had never been in her eyeline out of it. Enzo wondered about those fur extensions she was wearing to emulate the long head fur some Human females wore.
“Uh, no… no problem, Ella,” Was he holding her hand too tight? He figured he might be but. “Uh, I got a seat here,” he said, indicating the one next to him.
“Uh, thanks,” the girl said, melting his brain with her smile. “It’s easier than climbing back to mine.” She pushed up and he pulled and she passed by him to sit in the seat. A moment passed as she strapped in. He could feel something like an electric pulse down the side closest to her. It was awkward. He shuffled. His throat was dry and she’d noticed somehow. She smiled at him. “You’re nervous,” she asked, thinking it was the situation outside. He nodded. “Captain’ll sort it out,” she said, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze and almost giving him a panic attack. He thought back to Caldan. He thought to Martin and Hadrian. He thought of Doctor Flakk and what he’d say. Just spit it out! “El...El… Ella?”
She laughed gently. “Yes, yes, yes?”
“Do… Do you have a boyfriend?”
The Raitchian girl considered her answer, looking at the far wall. “Yes,” she said eventually. Then she squeezed his hand again and looked him in the eye. “At least I think so, eh? So, where’s the first date, eh?”
Enzo really needed the loo.
“Coming up on the Loper now,” Maldak said. “They’re calling.”
“Answer them,” Postain ordered before making an aside to Xarra. “Never thought I’d be glad to see that Rabbit,” he said.
<”Dawton,”> a voice said from the main screen, <”I hope you recorded that. I might need it for evidence.”>
Postain facepalmed. He blamed Maldak.
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Amazee Dayzee
- Posts: 25950
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
I really do want to get to the bottom of Postain's hostility towards Hawle. Is it JUST because his ex is sleeping with him now?
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Postain has a certain regard for regulations that Hawle lacks/can't be bothered with.Amazee Dayzee wrote: ↑Tue Jun 28, 2022 12:08 pm I really do want to get to the bottom of Postain's hostility towards Hawle. Is it JUST because his ex is sleeping with him now?
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
If Postain feels that way then maybe he should get back at Hawle somehow like shoving a dessert in his face. 
Anyway great chapter!
Anyway great chapter!-
Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
To further exemplify the differences between the Rodomont and the Loper...
EIGHTY
The Officer adjusted his bandolier and made sure his suede boots were scuff free before stepping out of the short range shuttle into the battered and crashed main shuttle bay on the larger ship. The deck crews were currently fussing over the half wrecked fighters in the bay and he knew he was going to have to assign help crews to aid the clean up. But, first, he’d have to consult with the lord high muck-a-muck of the ship. Or, he added mentally as the door opened and a Mican ran in, the deputy muck-a-muck anyhow. He listened as the crew managed to separate two of the fighters with a crunching sound and grimaced.
“Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you,” Xarra panted.
“Nonsense, Hilla,” Commander Hawle replied brightly. “If you think I’m a priority in these circumstances you’re clearly not paying attention. I need to know what teams to offer to get you back up to scratch and I’ll see if Jarra can spare some deck crew.” He shrugged, letting the epaulette fringes move slightly. “If the Captain agrees, of course.”
“I’m certain he will,” Xarra remarked. “I’m to escort you to his office.”
Hawle tutted. “I make the mistake of going to the Starwheel before coming to see him once…” A sigh. “Well, at least he’s not taking it personally.”
“Indeed,” Xarra remarked. She knew she’d never win a battle of words with this particular Lappinean so she was using the tactic Dawton had told her about in the short time she’d been his senior officer. Agreeing with him in a one word fashion, then proceeding as if nothing had happened was the only way to escape undefeated. So she made to lead him out of the bay.
It quickly became obvious that they needed all the help Hawle could muster. They passed by engineers working on virtually every section of the ship and medics working to treat the wounded where they lay. They also came across more than a few covered figures. He notified Fuze and Barleycorn to ready their teams and Katara was to select herself a team to assist Harra in Engineering as Chapston and Match took thorough scans of the damaged sections of the ship. It was all things he could have arranged from ‘home’ but he knew Postain’s mind. He knew how the craggy Canine thought. How ANY Captain would think, really. When the ship was wounded but salvageable, the Captain would never willingly leave. At least not straight away. As Kerri Kerrison zipped past, almost knocking into him as she flashed a salute to him, they came to his door. “Sorry about her,” Xarra said, preparing to press the button.
“Who, Kerri,” Hawle remarked. “Don’t be concerned. Did she and that Celican boy ever get together?”
Xarras thumb paused an inch from the bell. “How do..?”
“She and my usual Engineering Chief keep in regular contact,” he told her. “He tells Raven, Raven tells me.”
“Ah.” She pressed the button.
“Right,” Katara snapped, thirty minutes later, “come on you layabouts, we got work to do!” She took Jan, her Human best friend, with her into the teleport room, where their equipment was waiting for them and had to wait with the rest as Captain Postain and Doctan Tyla came aboard. She watched him as he stepped down and, without offering any sort of salute or recognition even, stepped up to beam across as Lieutenant Stikka hustled in. The acting Chief of Engineering stood stock still and vanished.
“Who,” Postain demanded, “was that?”
“Welcome aboard, Captain,” Stikka responded formally. Postain accepted the welcome and repeated his question. “That, sir, was Katara. Nothing on file as to if that’s her first or last name. Excellent Engineer with an attitude problem. She knows best and, if you know better than her, she’ll remind you she knows best. Has assaulted Chiefs before now.”
Postain looked surprised. “And SHE’S your acting Chief?”
“She respects Groal as an engineer. He’s on Honeymoon and our usual deputy chief’s in the medical bay. She’s the best one still standing.”
“Ship of madness,” Postain muttered, shaking his head. “Lead on,” he told the cyborg.
Postain and Tyla were in the conference room for a full three minutes before Hawle arrived with Flight leader Hardy in tow. “I still don’t know why you didn’t teleport over,” Postain grumbled. “It’s not the way things are supposed to be done, leaving us alone in here.”
“If I’d teleported over,” Hawle remarked, “how would I have got my shuttle back?” Tyla supposed he had a point. “Oh, Doctan Tyla, this is Flight leader Maze Hardy,” he said, by way of introduction.
“Greetings,” Tyla said graciously, keeping her civil nature despite being tired from work. She didn’t quite know what the Raitchian was doing there. But at least she had a name now.
“Well,” Hawle said as he took up his seat, “I’ve heard back from my acting chief Engineer. She and Harra have, apparently, agreed that we should be able to get you up to velocity two point five within a few hours but you’ll need to power down your core for a little while, Captain. Apparently there’s a whle chunk of ship in the magnetic casing and we’ll need to tractor it out before repairs. Katara’s lectured me on how Harra thinks he needs your authorisation.”
“He does,” Postain groused before coming over to his chief and giving it. “Fast as possible,” he warned. “We need those engines up and running.”
“Oh, I agree,” Hawle nodded. “The shuffled minefield won’t stop them forever.”
“And then they may take revenge against Karrin,” Tyla sighed. “And your people won’t help.”
“Officially we can’t,” Postain replied, suddenly having an inkling as to why the Raitchian was there. “Policy means we can’t get involved in the affairs of others unless directly involved. I’ve pushed that line to breaking point these last few weeks. I can’t push any further.”
“Nor can I,” Hawle admitted blithely. “Karrin would need to reach out to some of the companies that supply us with our technology. See if any of them are willing to put things in place. Trial runs, perhaps? Or do testing that’s not strictly legal in Council territory. I mean, there’s a few companies might like to cut a corner or two in the procedures to get their weapons stations and ships out faster. Companies like Fawren Spaceways…”
“...Raicarra industries…” Postain continued, catching on and declining the invitation to smile.
“And Monta Weapontech,” Hardy finished.
Hawle looked at her as though in surprise, like he’d totally forgotten her employment history. “That’s right! I almost forgot you work for Monta, Maze!” He looked back to Tyla and enthused. “They’re one of our best shipmakers, Doctan! And they’ve been looking for good test sites that they can operate! But, of course, they’ll need to deal directly with your colony president. The Council can’t have anything to do with it, you follow?”
She shook her head. “He means…” Maze started.
“She knows, Maze,” Hawle put in. “And I never meant it, y’know? But, I suppose someone would need to tell the people on Celica how best to approach discussions. Any tricks and tips, hmm?”
“I… suppose.”
“So, you two need to talk.”
Maze stood up. “Starwheel,” she said, offering the choice to Tyla.
“You have the same bar,” the Doctan queried.
“Easier to put the name across the fleet,” Hawle explained as the pair left.
EIGHTY
The Officer adjusted his bandolier and made sure his suede boots were scuff free before stepping out of the short range shuttle into the battered and crashed main shuttle bay on the larger ship. The deck crews were currently fussing over the half wrecked fighters in the bay and he knew he was going to have to assign help crews to aid the clean up. But, first, he’d have to consult with the lord high muck-a-muck of the ship. Or, he added mentally as the door opened and a Mican ran in, the deputy muck-a-muck anyhow. He listened as the crew managed to separate two of the fighters with a crunching sound and grimaced.
“Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you,” Xarra panted.
“Nonsense, Hilla,” Commander Hawle replied brightly. “If you think I’m a priority in these circumstances you’re clearly not paying attention. I need to know what teams to offer to get you back up to scratch and I’ll see if Jarra can spare some deck crew.” He shrugged, letting the epaulette fringes move slightly. “If the Captain agrees, of course.”
“I’m certain he will,” Xarra remarked. “I’m to escort you to his office.”
Hawle tutted. “I make the mistake of going to the Starwheel before coming to see him once…” A sigh. “Well, at least he’s not taking it personally.”
“Indeed,” Xarra remarked. She knew she’d never win a battle of words with this particular Lappinean so she was using the tactic Dawton had told her about in the short time she’d been his senior officer. Agreeing with him in a one word fashion, then proceeding as if nothing had happened was the only way to escape undefeated. So she made to lead him out of the bay.
It quickly became obvious that they needed all the help Hawle could muster. They passed by engineers working on virtually every section of the ship and medics working to treat the wounded where they lay. They also came across more than a few covered figures. He notified Fuze and Barleycorn to ready their teams and Katara was to select herself a team to assist Harra in Engineering as Chapston and Match took thorough scans of the damaged sections of the ship. It was all things he could have arranged from ‘home’ but he knew Postain’s mind. He knew how the craggy Canine thought. How ANY Captain would think, really. When the ship was wounded but salvageable, the Captain would never willingly leave. At least not straight away. As Kerri Kerrison zipped past, almost knocking into him as she flashed a salute to him, they came to his door. “Sorry about her,” Xarra said, preparing to press the button.
“Who, Kerri,” Hawle remarked. “Don’t be concerned. Did she and that Celican boy ever get together?”
Xarras thumb paused an inch from the bell. “How do..?”
“She and my usual Engineering Chief keep in regular contact,” he told her. “He tells Raven, Raven tells me.”
“Ah.” She pressed the button.
“Right,” Katara snapped, thirty minutes later, “come on you layabouts, we got work to do!” She took Jan, her Human best friend, with her into the teleport room, where their equipment was waiting for them and had to wait with the rest as Captain Postain and Doctan Tyla came aboard. She watched him as he stepped down and, without offering any sort of salute or recognition even, stepped up to beam across as Lieutenant Stikka hustled in. The acting Chief of Engineering stood stock still and vanished.
“Who,” Postain demanded, “was that?”
“Welcome aboard, Captain,” Stikka responded formally. Postain accepted the welcome and repeated his question. “That, sir, was Katara. Nothing on file as to if that’s her first or last name. Excellent Engineer with an attitude problem. She knows best and, if you know better than her, she’ll remind you she knows best. Has assaulted Chiefs before now.”
Postain looked surprised. “And SHE’S your acting Chief?”
“She respects Groal as an engineer. He’s on Honeymoon and our usual deputy chief’s in the medical bay. She’s the best one still standing.”
“Ship of madness,” Postain muttered, shaking his head. “Lead on,” he told the cyborg.
Postain and Tyla were in the conference room for a full three minutes before Hawle arrived with Flight leader Hardy in tow. “I still don’t know why you didn’t teleport over,” Postain grumbled. “It’s not the way things are supposed to be done, leaving us alone in here.”
“If I’d teleported over,” Hawle remarked, “how would I have got my shuttle back?” Tyla supposed he had a point. “Oh, Doctan Tyla, this is Flight leader Maze Hardy,” he said, by way of introduction.
“Greetings,” Tyla said graciously, keeping her civil nature despite being tired from work. She didn’t quite know what the Raitchian was doing there. But at least she had a name now.
“Well,” Hawle said as he took up his seat, “I’ve heard back from my acting chief Engineer. She and Harra have, apparently, agreed that we should be able to get you up to velocity two point five within a few hours but you’ll need to power down your core for a little while, Captain. Apparently there’s a whle chunk of ship in the magnetic casing and we’ll need to tractor it out before repairs. Katara’s lectured me on how Harra thinks he needs your authorisation.”
“He does,” Postain groused before coming over to his chief and giving it. “Fast as possible,” he warned. “We need those engines up and running.”
“Oh, I agree,” Hawle nodded. “The shuffled minefield won’t stop them forever.”
“And then they may take revenge against Karrin,” Tyla sighed. “And your people won’t help.”
“Officially we can’t,” Postain replied, suddenly having an inkling as to why the Raitchian was there. “Policy means we can’t get involved in the affairs of others unless directly involved. I’ve pushed that line to breaking point these last few weeks. I can’t push any further.”
“Nor can I,” Hawle admitted blithely. “Karrin would need to reach out to some of the companies that supply us with our technology. See if any of them are willing to put things in place. Trial runs, perhaps? Or do testing that’s not strictly legal in Council territory. I mean, there’s a few companies might like to cut a corner or two in the procedures to get their weapons stations and ships out faster. Companies like Fawren Spaceways…”
“...Raicarra industries…” Postain continued, catching on and declining the invitation to smile.
“And Monta Weapontech,” Hardy finished.
Hawle looked at her as though in surprise, like he’d totally forgotten her employment history. “That’s right! I almost forgot you work for Monta, Maze!” He looked back to Tyla and enthused. “They’re one of our best shipmakers, Doctan! And they’ve been looking for good test sites that they can operate! But, of course, they’ll need to deal directly with your colony president. The Council can’t have anything to do with it, you follow?”
She shook her head. “He means…” Maze started.
“She knows, Maze,” Hawle put in. “And I never meant it, y’know? But, I suppose someone would need to tell the people on Celica how best to approach discussions. Any tricks and tips, hmm?”
“I… suppose.”
“So, you two need to talk.”
Maze stood up. “Starwheel,” she said, offering the choice to Tyla.
“You have the same bar,” the Doctan queried.
“Easier to put the name across the fleet,” Hawle explained as the pair left.
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Pretty sure its a party and a half on the Loper even when things are incredibly serious. Elena made the right choice hooking up with Hawle. X)
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Finally. It's just the two of them talking.
EIGHTY-ONE
Hawle regarded Postain across the table and pondered why this silence seemed different to the ones he’d endured with this Rottian before. Normally it was like waiting for the other boot to drop or, more accurately, fly at his head but this… this seemed far more… pensive than any time before. It wasn’t the time for witticisms or levity, he knew that. So he was being pensive himself. Considerate. Patient. “What is it, sir,” he asked.
Postain glanced up, his eyes betraying a hint of haunt. “Don’t you start calling me ‘sir’ in seriousness, Commander, I don’t think I could take it right now.”
“Then I’ll call you Captain,” Hawle commented, artificially lightening his tone. “Your eye’s having thoughts of the future, I think?” He waved a hand. “I’ve seen it in the eye of several Lieutenants when they think they’re ready for something more but they’re not sure about it.”
Postain made to stand up. “As though I’d tell YOU about it…”
“If not me, then who?” Hawle twisted in his chair to make sure he was directly facing Postain. “You can’t tell Xarra or anyone else on your crew because… well, they’re your crew. You can’t tell Postlethwaite because he’s your boss and he might make an order you don’t want to follow. You can’t consult with others of your rank because there aren’t any. That,” the Lappinean finished, “just leaves you with me.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “Because the only other person is Chichester Dundee and she’s involved in this, isn’t she?”
Postain sat back down and scowled. “Nothing of what’s said leaves this room, Right?”
Hawle held up his hands. “I’m not that invested in your life that I post on the galnet boards. Whatever you say is safe.”
“Good. For years, all my thoughts have been of the ship and how I can best serve the… “ His ears sharpened, as did his tone. “WHAT Galnet boards???”
“Oh, there’s boards for a lot of the Captains and Commanders. Especially those of us who’ve gotten noticed. Sector Command keeps an eye on them to make sure there’s nothing breaking confidentiality. It’s also a way of keeping an eye on us without having to put spies on our ships. Keeps most on an even keel and also happens to be the reason Postlethwaite has promised I’ll never be promoted again. Win-win.”
Postain looked dumbfounded. “They… They really do that?”
"Partially. I don’t think they put too much faith in the stories on the blogs to be honest.” He grimaced. “Or someone might have charged me for that last one with me and Elena…” He shook his head. “Anyhow…”
Postain looked less than reassured. He still thought Hawle was batting above his level with Elena. Or she was slumming it. “Ye-es… Anyway,” he continued. “Most of my thoughts are still with the ship but I don’t know how much longer I can go on, Hawle. How much longer before someone successfully punches my ticket or my errors cost lives?” He raised a finger in case Hawle was thinking of saying something. “I lost thirty people over the last few weeks,” he told the Lappinean. “I might lose more in the next few days. And EVERY ONE of them has passed because I decided to push the issue. To bend the rules…”
“Last I heard,” Hawle interrupted, ignoring the absolute glare Postain was giving him, “you conferred on that with Command. Whether you like it or not, Marius, you can’t take all the blame for the decision.”
Postain ignored the use of his first name just this once. He got what the Rabbit was trying to do. “I’m still the one made the decisions.”
“Oh, you get some of the blame, yeah. Just as I would during the actions of my ship. Blame, like credit, often gets put on us directly, with little thought to the actions that led to it. You’d never take all the credit, would you?”
“No…”
“Then don’t take all the blame. It’s unfair to the rest of the crew.”
Postain almost chuckled. He held himself in. “Accepted. Then there’s the other thing… During the recent fights, most of my thoughts were on how the ship was handling itself but some of them…”
Hawle waited for a few seconds before accepting he should continue the line himself. “...were about how Chichester’s face would look at your funeral?” He blew out a breath. “I can’t make it easy for you,” he continued. “I CAN tell you Elena’s mentioned it once or twice. It’s not something she likes but she does understand that U.S.C. Officers is what we are and that’s an integral part of the person they fell for. Elena understands that. I take it Chichester does too?”
“Of course. Doesn’t make it much easier.”
Hawle shrugged. “Nope. I’ve had it easier with Elena. She’s spent the last few weeks with a visiting cousin. Hawthorne Plebar.”
“The science Captain?”
“That’s her. I suppose it’s a bit easier for me to adjust, isn’t it? I’ve never been that much of a sealed book but you? I’ve seen stones that aren’t as hard, sir. It’s harder for you to open up.”
“That’s a stupid metaphor,” Postain snipped. “Stones can’t open like a book. This isn’t much use to me.”
“But you can read cave paintings and graffiti like a book,” Hawle countered. “It’s just looking at things a different way. Look at us. We really don’t like each other. I hate your stoic nature, you think I’m an eccentric goof. But I know that, if I were ever to get into trouble, the ship I’d want coming over the horizon like the cavalry is the Rodomont. And that’s not because you’ve got the best, toughest, ship in the sector, it’s because that ship has the best, toughest CREW in the sector. Well, except mine, obviously. And I’m pretty sure that, when you need help, you know that I’ll always do my best to get there and help you out of the muck.” He sensed he was getting a little too close to being profound so added in that it would be partially so he could lord it over Postain. “Well, just make you owe me one, anyhow.”
Postain didn’t rise to it. He’d long worked out this annoying Commander. He was riling him back to strength and it was partially working. The stew of confusion was evaporating due to the heat of annoyance. He felt he was closer to making a choice now., feeling more certain about things.
“We have, despite everything, managed to achieve some manner of respect for each other,” Hawle continued.
Postain snorted. “Respect? Me for you? I will permit you tolerance, Commander. Respect, however, is out of the question! But thank you for your advice! I’ll take it under consideration. Dismissed!”
Automatically, Hawle got to his feet and went to the door. “Whatever you decide, sir,” he said, “I do hope you don’t leave the service. It could take me ages to break in a new Captain.” He stepped out as the door opened. It closed behind him.
“Five,” Postain said, “four… Three… Two… One…”
The door opened again. Hawle appeared. “This is MY conference room,” he exclaimed, before seeing Postain laughing and knowing he’d been had.
EIGHTY-ONE
Hawle regarded Postain across the table and pondered why this silence seemed different to the ones he’d endured with this Rottian before. Normally it was like waiting for the other boot to drop or, more accurately, fly at his head but this… this seemed far more… pensive than any time before. It wasn’t the time for witticisms or levity, he knew that. So he was being pensive himself. Considerate. Patient. “What is it, sir,” he asked.
Postain glanced up, his eyes betraying a hint of haunt. “Don’t you start calling me ‘sir’ in seriousness, Commander, I don’t think I could take it right now.”
“Then I’ll call you Captain,” Hawle commented, artificially lightening his tone. “Your eye’s having thoughts of the future, I think?” He waved a hand. “I’ve seen it in the eye of several Lieutenants when they think they’re ready for something more but they’re not sure about it.”
Postain made to stand up. “As though I’d tell YOU about it…”
“If not me, then who?” Hawle twisted in his chair to make sure he was directly facing Postain. “You can’t tell Xarra or anyone else on your crew because… well, they’re your crew. You can’t tell Postlethwaite because he’s your boss and he might make an order you don’t want to follow. You can’t consult with others of your rank because there aren’t any. That,” the Lappinean finished, “just leaves you with me.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “Because the only other person is Chichester Dundee and she’s involved in this, isn’t she?”
Postain sat back down and scowled. “Nothing of what’s said leaves this room, Right?”
Hawle held up his hands. “I’m not that invested in your life that I post on the galnet boards. Whatever you say is safe.”
“Good. For years, all my thoughts have been of the ship and how I can best serve the… “ His ears sharpened, as did his tone. “WHAT Galnet boards???”
“Oh, there’s boards for a lot of the Captains and Commanders. Especially those of us who’ve gotten noticed. Sector Command keeps an eye on them to make sure there’s nothing breaking confidentiality. It’s also a way of keeping an eye on us without having to put spies on our ships. Keeps most on an even keel and also happens to be the reason Postlethwaite has promised I’ll never be promoted again. Win-win.”
Postain looked dumbfounded. “They… They really do that?”
"Partially. I don’t think they put too much faith in the stories on the blogs to be honest.” He grimaced. “Or someone might have charged me for that last one with me and Elena…” He shook his head. “Anyhow…”
Postain looked less than reassured. He still thought Hawle was batting above his level with Elena. Or she was slumming it. “Ye-es… Anyway,” he continued. “Most of my thoughts are still with the ship but I don’t know how much longer I can go on, Hawle. How much longer before someone successfully punches my ticket or my errors cost lives?” He raised a finger in case Hawle was thinking of saying something. “I lost thirty people over the last few weeks,” he told the Lappinean. “I might lose more in the next few days. And EVERY ONE of them has passed because I decided to push the issue. To bend the rules…”
“Last I heard,” Hawle interrupted, ignoring the absolute glare Postain was giving him, “you conferred on that with Command. Whether you like it or not, Marius, you can’t take all the blame for the decision.”
Postain ignored the use of his first name just this once. He got what the Rabbit was trying to do. “I’m still the one made the decisions.”
“Oh, you get some of the blame, yeah. Just as I would during the actions of my ship. Blame, like credit, often gets put on us directly, with little thought to the actions that led to it. You’d never take all the credit, would you?”
“No…”
“Then don’t take all the blame. It’s unfair to the rest of the crew.”
Postain almost chuckled. He held himself in. “Accepted. Then there’s the other thing… During the recent fights, most of my thoughts were on how the ship was handling itself but some of them…”
Hawle waited for a few seconds before accepting he should continue the line himself. “...were about how Chichester’s face would look at your funeral?” He blew out a breath. “I can’t make it easy for you,” he continued. “I CAN tell you Elena’s mentioned it once or twice. It’s not something she likes but she does understand that U.S.C. Officers is what we are and that’s an integral part of the person they fell for. Elena understands that. I take it Chichester does too?”
“Of course. Doesn’t make it much easier.”
Hawle shrugged. “Nope. I’ve had it easier with Elena. She’s spent the last few weeks with a visiting cousin. Hawthorne Plebar.”
“The science Captain?”
“That’s her. I suppose it’s a bit easier for me to adjust, isn’t it? I’ve never been that much of a sealed book but you? I’ve seen stones that aren’t as hard, sir. It’s harder for you to open up.”
“That’s a stupid metaphor,” Postain snipped. “Stones can’t open like a book. This isn’t much use to me.”
“But you can read cave paintings and graffiti like a book,” Hawle countered. “It’s just looking at things a different way. Look at us. We really don’t like each other. I hate your stoic nature, you think I’m an eccentric goof. But I know that, if I were ever to get into trouble, the ship I’d want coming over the horizon like the cavalry is the Rodomont. And that’s not because you’ve got the best, toughest, ship in the sector, it’s because that ship has the best, toughest CREW in the sector. Well, except mine, obviously. And I’m pretty sure that, when you need help, you know that I’ll always do my best to get there and help you out of the muck.” He sensed he was getting a little too close to being profound so added in that it would be partially so he could lord it over Postain. “Well, just make you owe me one, anyhow.”
Postain didn’t rise to it. He’d long worked out this annoying Commander. He was riling him back to strength and it was partially working. The stew of confusion was evaporating due to the heat of annoyance. He felt he was closer to making a choice now., feeling more certain about things.
“We have, despite everything, managed to achieve some manner of respect for each other,” Hawle continued.
Postain snorted. “Respect? Me for you? I will permit you tolerance, Commander. Respect, however, is out of the question! But thank you for your advice! I’ll take it under consideration. Dismissed!”
Automatically, Hawle got to his feet and went to the door. “Whatever you decide, sir,” he said, “I do hope you don’t leave the service. It could take me ages to break in a new Captain.” He stepped out as the door opened. It closed behind him.
“Five,” Postain said, “four… Three… Two… One…”
The door opened again. Hawle appeared. “This is MY conference room,” he exclaimed, before seeing Postain laughing and knowing he’d been had.
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Yay we have an Elena mention here! Plus I think she would much rather be with an eccentric goof than a grumpy muzzle. 
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
I think the last line is the first reference to Postain actually laughing.
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
He never laughed at all? No wonder why Elena dumped him. <_<
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Welsh Halfwit
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Penultimate part
EIGHTY-TWO
The shuttle touched down on Karrin and Doctan Tyla stepped off to see her homeworld again. The first shipment of medical supplies was loaded on the shuttle and a pair of Jestavanians joined Hadrian Jak in bringing the supplies out for loading onto a truck. “What do you think, Hadrian,” she asked, closing her eyes to feel the sun on her face. The breeze on her nostrils… The scents of home.
Hadrian noted the pair looking at his antlers in amusement and deliberately altered their look to surprise them. “It seems a nice enough place, Kira. Peaceable.”
She shook her head. “I hope it stays that way..” A snort of laughter. “Isn’t it strange? I seem to have traded my personal hope for the future for the right of others to HAVE a future.”
“You’ll get it back,” Hadrian assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s nothing a few weeks of peace won’t help with, after all. And I understand you may soon be getting a visitor?” He looked askance at her.
She smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll be doing a few ‘biological compatibility tests,” she said before laughing. “And I’ll have to show him off, won’t I?”
“You mean ‘around’, right?”
“Well, of course. But Caldan’s got a few weeks of debriefs to go first.”
Hadrian groaned. “Same for all of us,” he told her. “But most of us can do it during our work hours.” He looked around at the lack of people thronging them. “Where’s your welcome home committee?”
“I’m no-one special,” she claimed.
“Oh, that’s hardly true. All those files you’ve got? All those new anatomies you’ve become Karrin’s leading expert on? I predict a great future for you. At least on the talk show circuit.”
“Oh, strike me down now,” Tyla implored. Behind her the second shuttle landed as the last of the medical kits was unloaded from the first. It took off practically immediately, after Jak had run a security scan, to pick up the next shipment. “Shame you can’t use that teleport thing on this stuff,” she remarked. “It’d save you a lot of time.”
“They tell me it’d detect half of this stuff as contaminants and filter it out,” Hadrian advised. “Plus our shuttle pilots want a workout. Oh, look,” he continued, nodding over to the far side of the landing zone, “there’s the Loper’s shuttle.”
Captain Postain, for his part, had teleported down to the colony presidents’ offices and was walking up the drive in full view of security. He had intelligence files and records of the actions taken for the President to look over. Whilmot had assisted Tyla in transferring the files from Council standard format to Karrinean so the President could declare the contents ‘Eyes only’ and stop people reading them. Only the news that he decided needed to be known would be known, Postain supposed. It was ever thus. Anyhow, here came his escort.
They left him outside the main conference room and he was a little surprised to see a Mican flitting between the room and an area behind it. Then he worked it out. Cedar Kirkwall was here, probably putting the finishing touches to a meal from the Loper’s stores. After twenty minutes of him being sat there, the Mican made his way over. “Captain Postain,” he said innocently, “you’re early?”
“I am precisely on time, Kirkwall,” he gruffed. “You must be serving things late.”
Kirkwall refused to be intimidated. “Phikanic a la Mica,”
Postain twisted around at this. “You managed to get Phikanic? From Cana? How? It’s one of the most expensive meats.”
Kirkwall took a seat. “It’s… not really Phikanic,” he confessed. “There’s a meat called Chicken that, when properly spiced, can pass as Phikanic. The spices in the sauce bridge the gap. Somewhat. I did tell Colleen, of course.”
Postain nodded slowly. “Of course.”
Cedar pointed with both hands, back towards the kitchen. “I think there’s some left. I could get you some if..?”
Postain shook his head. “No. When meeting a President, you wait for them. They do not wait for you. Protocol.”
“Always hated that,” Cedar replied, standing up. “Gets in the way of planning the meal.”
Twenty minutes passed before the door opened and the graceful Collian Ambassador exited, gracefully, inclining her sleek head towards the Captain as she headed out with her documents and associate. Postain watched her go with her friend, who’d changed into his light blue coat and a flat cap that made him look foolish. They bantered about going on a short tour before heading back up to the ship and him not looking like a ragamuffin and what happened to that shirt she bought him? Postain didn’t hear the reply as President Gerek invited him in. “I apologise for keeping you waiting,” he said unnecessarily, “but the final elements of the trade deals overran somewhat and I rather had to try some of the Chef’s range as she extolled his virtues. Tasted a bit like Chicken,” he added with a wink. “We raise them to the south. I believe the first ones came in on trade ships… nine years ago?”
Postain could guess where it had come from. The ‘Celican farm’ shop on the Fauntleroy, where they’d been able to buy live produce for eating. Someone had probably struck a side deal and violated several dozen biological laws whilst doing it. “I have a lot of information for you,” he told the President.
Palla looked out on Karrin as it hung below the Rodomont. If she focussed, she could just about make out the flint of metal that was the Loper ship that had helped them out, lying between the ship and the surface but, mostly, she watched the subtle movement of land masses and continents and sighed with a tinge of regret.
“Parnik for them,” Kohlich asked from behind her. She glanced at him, looking quite trim in his green shirt and blue trousers. She could just make out his chest coming back into definition and wondered if her own would follow in the upcoming days.
“These people use Credits or something, Leftenant.”
“We’re done with the military now, ma’am,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
“We’re done with our own people now, Kohlich,” she remarked, looking back at the planet. “It’s not an easy thing to let go of.”
“They never came looking,” he replied, “these people did.”
“It’s a bit easier for you, isn’t it,” she asked wryly. “You’ve got a Girlfriend.”
“Hah. Possibly. But, with you up and about – finally – you might find someone too. Or,” he nodded to the planet, “you could ask if you can stay?”
She looked. She longed. She sighed. “Nah. Someone’s gotta tell these people about Jestavanian culture and all the good stuff. Think I’d trust YOU? You rate Kalliavin as a better composer than Ekannic! They’d learn nothing but deceptions! Plus you’re staying on board, I take it?”
“With Kelly, yeah. Doctan… Doctor Flakk has cleared me for more strenuous activities provided I rest afterwards.” He affected innocence. “Not that I know what he’s on about, of course!”
She laughed and slapped his chest. “No Jestarats just yet, please!”
He indicated the nearby Starwheel bar. “C’mon,” he said, “apparently Engineering does a ‘mission over’ drinks thing and, due to making a good impression and saving a life or two, I’m invited. And I’m allowed something called a ‘plus one’.”
“Do they have Kerranweed?”
Kohlich shrugged as they headed over. “Not a clue. But they probably have something that’ll make you forget the next few hours.”
They headed in.
EIGHTY-TWO
The shuttle touched down on Karrin and Doctan Tyla stepped off to see her homeworld again. The first shipment of medical supplies was loaded on the shuttle and a pair of Jestavanians joined Hadrian Jak in bringing the supplies out for loading onto a truck. “What do you think, Hadrian,” she asked, closing her eyes to feel the sun on her face. The breeze on her nostrils… The scents of home.
Hadrian noted the pair looking at his antlers in amusement and deliberately altered their look to surprise them. “It seems a nice enough place, Kira. Peaceable.”
She shook her head. “I hope it stays that way..” A snort of laughter. “Isn’t it strange? I seem to have traded my personal hope for the future for the right of others to HAVE a future.”
“You’ll get it back,” Hadrian assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s nothing a few weeks of peace won’t help with, after all. And I understand you may soon be getting a visitor?” He looked askance at her.
She smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll be doing a few ‘biological compatibility tests,” she said before laughing. “And I’ll have to show him off, won’t I?”
“You mean ‘around’, right?”
“Well, of course. But Caldan’s got a few weeks of debriefs to go first.”
Hadrian groaned. “Same for all of us,” he told her. “But most of us can do it during our work hours.” He looked around at the lack of people thronging them. “Where’s your welcome home committee?”
“I’m no-one special,” she claimed.
“Oh, that’s hardly true. All those files you’ve got? All those new anatomies you’ve become Karrin’s leading expert on? I predict a great future for you. At least on the talk show circuit.”
“Oh, strike me down now,” Tyla implored. Behind her the second shuttle landed as the last of the medical kits was unloaded from the first. It took off practically immediately, after Jak had run a security scan, to pick up the next shipment. “Shame you can’t use that teleport thing on this stuff,” she remarked. “It’d save you a lot of time.”
“They tell me it’d detect half of this stuff as contaminants and filter it out,” Hadrian advised. “Plus our shuttle pilots want a workout. Oh, look,” he continued, nodding over to the far side of the landing zone, “there’s the Loper’s shuttle.”
Captain Postain, for his part, had teleported down to the colony presidents’ offices and was walking up the drive in full view of security. He had intelligence files and records of the actions taken for the President to look over. Whilmot had assisted Tyla in transferring the files from Council standard format to Karrinean so the President could declare the contents ‘Eyes only’ and stop people reading them. Only the news that he decided needed to be known would be known, Postain supposed. It was ever thus. Anyhow, here came his escort.
They left him outside the main conference room and he was a little surprised to see a Mican flitting between the room and an area behind it. Then he worked it out. Cedar Kirkwall was here, probably putting the finishing touches to a meal from the Loper’s stores. After twenty minutes of him being sat there, the Mican made his way over. “Captain Postain,” he said innocently, “you’re early?”
“I am precisely on time, Kirkwall,” he gruffed. “You must be serving things late.”
Kirkwall refused to be intimidated. “Phikanic a la Mica,”
Postain twisted around at this. “You managed to get Phikanic? From Cana? How? It’s one of the most expensive meats.”
Kirkwall took a seat. “It’s… not really Phikanic,” he confessed. “There’s a meat called Chicken that, when properly spiced, can pass as Phikanic. The spices in the sauce bridge the gap. Somewhat. I did tell Colleen, of course.”
Postain nodded slowly. “Of course.”
Cedar pointed with both hands, back towards the kitchen. “I think there’s some left. I could get you some if..?”
Postain shook his head. “No. When meeting a President, you wait for them. They do not wait for you. Protocol.”
“Always hated that,” Cedar replied, standing up. “Gets in the way of planning the meal.”
Twenty minutes passed before the door opened and the graceful Collian Ambassador exited, gracefully, inclining her sleek head towards the Captain as she headed out with her documents and associate. Postain watched her go with her friend, who’d changed into his light blue coat and a flat cap that made him look foolish. They bantered about going on a short tour before heading back up to the ship and him not looking like a ragamuffin and what happened to that shirt she bought him? Postain didn’t hear the reply as President Gerek invited him in. “I apologise for keeping you waiting,” he said unnecessarily, “but the final elements of the trade deals overran somewhat and I rather had to try some of the Chef’s range as she extolled his virtues. Tasted a bit like Chicken,” he added with a wink. “We raise them to the south. I believe the first ones came in on trade ships… nine years ago?”
Postain could guess where it had come from. The ‘Celican farm’ shop on the Fauntleroy, where they’d been able to buy live produce for eating. Someone had probably struck a side deal and violated several dozen biological laws whilst doing it. “I have a lot of information for you,” he told the President.
Palla looked out on Karrin as it hung below the Rodomont. If she focussed, she could just about make out the flint of metal that was the Loper ship that had helped them out, lying between the ship and the surface but, mostly, she watched the subtle movement of land masses and continents and sighed with a tinge of regret.
“Parnik for them,” Kohlich asked from behind her. She glanced at him, looking quite trim in his green shirt and blue trousers. She could just make out his chest coming back into definition and wondered if her own would follow in the upcoming days.
“These people use Credits or something, Leftenant.”
“We’re done with the military now, ma’am,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
“We’re done with our own people now, Kohlich,” she remarked, looking back at the planet. “It’s not an easy thing to let go of.”
“They never came looking,” he replied, “these people did.”
“It’s a bit easier for you, isn’t it,” she asked wryly. “You’ve got a Girlfriend.”
“Hah. Possibly. But, with you up and about – finally – you might find someone too. Or,” he nodded to the planet, “you could ask if you can stay?”
She looked. She longed. She sighed. “Nah. Someone’s gotta tell these people about Jestavanian culture and all the good stuff. Think I’d trust YOU? You rate Kalliavin as a better composer than Ekannic! They’d learn nothing but deceptions! Plus you’re staying on board, I take it?”
“With Kelly, yeah. Doctan… Doctor Flakk has cleared me for more strenuous activities provided I rest afterwards.” He affected innocence. “Not that I know what he’s on about, of course!”
She laughed and slapped his chest. “No Jestarats just yet, please!”
He indicated the nearby Starwheel bar. “C’mon,” he said, “apparently Engineering does a ‘mission over’ drinks thing and, due to making a good impression and saving a life or two, I’m invited. And I’m allowed something called a ‘plus one’.”
“Do they have Kerranweed?”
Kohlich shrugged as they headed over. “Not a clue. But they probably have something that’ll make you forget the next few hours.”
They headed in.
-
Amazee Dayzee
- Posts: 25950
- Joined: Tue Aug 12, 2014 6:24 pm
Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
Can't wait to see what you have planned for the finale! Great chapter!
-
Welsh Halfwit
- Posts: 14139
- Joined: Sun Mar 17, 2013 3:09 am
- Location: Wales, a luverrly land with noisy neighbours.
Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
EIGHTY-THREE
“I wonder what they’re thinking,” Darren Levan asked as he bleared into the high sun of a Cora II summers day. He had his hand on the shoulder of his girlfriend, who’d been glowering at him for not giving her a shoulder ride across the concrete reception area. Ahead of them a small entourage was handing over the one Jestavanian prisoner to the Cora II Sheriff’s Office for holding and Palla and Kohlich were staring around at the massed variety of locals. Micans and Lappineans and one or two members of every other race and crossbreeds of them and Varkonians were all present here and the scientist idly wondered if someone had set this up as he couldn’t recall any Varkonians from the refugee settlement actually working at the spaceport. Maybe they were hoping to get the questions out of the way now?
“They’reprobablythinkinghow hotitis,” Kerri replied. “Almosttoohot to walk.”
He looked down to her genially. “You’re my girlfriend, Kerri,” he reminded her. “People would think it was odd, is all.”
“What’sodd abouthavingmy legsaroundyourneck,” she asked, feigning innocence. “C’mon,wehave threedays shoreleaveand Iwanna seetheiceforest!”
“Of course.” He leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “So do I.” A wry grin. “And I’ll give you a shoulder ride around our hotel suite!”
He laughed as Kerri, despite her size, pulled him behind her on their way to the tour bus.
With Doctor Flakk having been summonsed to Talvary station to host a conference on the Jestavanian virus and means of treating it, Doctor Martin Jul was in acting care of the Medical facilities whilst Kelly stayed with the Jestavanian guy so he didn’t get too scared or whatever excuse Flakk had given them. She was his ‘emotional support’ person. It had to make Martin laugh, even if just slightly. But it meant he was on call all the time right now, which was why he was drinking lemonade at dinner. It was him, Bridget Carvalho and, in the wings, fretting over his date...”It’s not a date!” was Enzo. As his mom and step-dad – well, future stepdad – ate their cooked grains, seeds, veggies and stuff, he was fiddling with a clip on bow tie atop a grey shirt. “It’s fine, Enzo,” Martin assured him. “You probably don’t even need it. It’s not like she’s ever seen you in one, is it? And it’s not like it’s a…”
“It’s not a date,” Enzo protested, making his mother laugh silently where he couldn’t see her.
Martin left the table and crossed over to him to kneel and gently put his hands on his shoulders. “Then you don’t need to fear it as one,” he said softly. He affected a minor change to the boys collar. “It’s you she likes, not your clothes.” He booped Enzo’s nose. The boy wiped it as a reflex. “Just remember to take the tie off before you go on the waterwheel rides, yeah?”
“He will, Martin,” Bridget commented. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Enzo looked horrified as he remembered his mother was coming to the holoroom with them as a chaperone. Martin leaned in. “I don’t think she’ll join you on the rides, yeah?”
Enzo snuck in a quick hug. He was still scared, of course.
Hadrian walked Caldan to the Rodomon’t shuttle bay, chatting as they went. “So, I need to thank you,” Hadrian said, ducking under a doorway by reflex, despite having several inches clearance.
“What for,” Caldan asked, wondering if he could get the Cervidian to give him his hold-all so he could actually carry it .
“Well, for sorting things out with a certain director,” Hadrian told him.
“Oh, that?” Caldan scoffed. “That was nothing. He just needed a reminder that acting is supposed to be about FUN is all! Now he’s got that down, he’s lightening his touch.”
“Either way,” Hadrian responded as they entered the bay, “you’ve cheered him up so Simone’s happier with her life and that makes things better for me. So thanks.”
“No need,” Caldan responded. “You carried my bags. Thanks enough.”
“You know, when you first got on this ship I was sure you’d be a pain in the backside?”
“You realised you were wrong?”
Hadrian scoffed. “No, I was totally correct! The way you’ve been following everyone around? Taking notes? A total annoyance. But one I’m going to miss.”
“I’d say I’d miss you but I’m going to be seeing a lot of you in my writing over the next few months.”
“Send me a copy when you’re done,” Hadrian said, handing him his bag so he could get on the shuttle.
“Send me a vid of the play,” Caldan responded, waving.
In the presidential complex, two figures sat eating in the private rooms. Chichester passed the Hasperat Sauce across the table, sending it down the track that she’d had mounted on the table with the push of a button. It stopped just shy of Marius Postain’s seat and he had to reach slightly for the green tinged sauce. “So, I’m told some of Karrin’s exports will be coming here,” she asked, wondering at how little conversation had gone on in the last half hour.
“Oh, absolutely,” Postain replied. “I know supplies here have been a little pushed since the influx. And you’ve heavy goods to export,” he continued as he spread the sauce on his meat. “It’s a fair deal all around, I think.”
“Well, it’ll certainly help,” she smiled. “Are you here for long this time?”
“Well, they won’t be able to fit us in for a couple of weeks, Chich,” he told her. He sighed. “Look, um…” He put down his knife and fork. “I’ve been thinking about things these last few days, Chich,” he confessed. “About you and me and the rather open secret of our relationship?”
“Ri-i-ght,” Chichester drawled, hoping this wasn’t going the way she thought it was.
“Well, there were times when I couldn’t help but think of you when going into combat and… well, I’ve figured I have to come to a decision.” He put the pot back on the ‘train’ and sent it back up. “About us, I mean.”
“You’re… you’re not…” Chichester sighed. “Is this a goodbye,” she asked.
“Depends,” Postain said with resignation.
She kept looking at him. “Depends on what,” she asked breathlessly.
He pointed to the train and the pot on the back. Or, rather, the box. She reached out for it tentatively and realised Postain had come closer along the table to kneel beside her as she opened the box. “Depends on the answer to the question of ‘Will you marry me’, Chichester,” he asked.
END
“I wonder what they’re thinking,” Darren Levan asked as he bleared into the high sun of a Cora II summers day. He had his hand on the shoulder of his girlfriend, who’d been glowering at him for not giving her a shoulder ride across the concrete reception area. Ahead of them a small entourage was handing over the one Jestavanian prisoner to the Cora II Sheriff’s Office for holding and Palla and Kohlich were staring around at the massed variety of locals. Micans and Lappineans and one or two members of every other race and crossbreeds of them and Varkonians were all present here and the scientist idly wondered if someone had set this up as he couldn’t recall any Varkonians from the refugee settlement actually working at the spaceport. Maybe they were hoping to get the questions out of the way now?
“They’reprobablythinkinghow hotitis,” Kerri replied. “Almosttoohot to walk.”
He looked down to her genially. “You’re my girlfriend, Kerri,” he reminded her. “People would think it was odd, is all.”
“What’sodd abouthavingmy legsaroundyourneck,” she asked, feigning innocence. “C’mon,wehave threedays shoreleaveand Iwanna seetheiceforest!”
“Of course.” He leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “So do I.” A wry grin. “And I’ll give you a shoulder ride around our hotel suite!”
He laughed as Kerri, despite her size, pulled him behind her on their way to the tour bus.
With Doctor Flakk having been summonsed to Talvary station to host a conference on the Jestavanian virus and means of treating it, Doctor Martin Jul was in acting care of the Medical facilities whilst Kelly stayed with the Jestavanian guy so he didn’t get too scared or whatever excuse Flakk had given them. She was his ‘emotional support’ person. It had to make Martin laugh, even if just slightly. But it meant he was on call all the time right now, which was why he was drinking lemonade at dinner. It was him, Bridget Carvalho and, in the wings, fretting over his date...”It’s not a date!” was Enzo. As his mom and step-dad – well, future stepdad – ate their cooked grains, seeds, veggies and stuff, he was fiddling with a clip on bow tie atop a grey shirt. “It’s fine, Enzo,” Martin assured him. “You probably don’t even need it. It’s not like she’s ever seen you in one, is it? And it’s not like it’s a…”
“It’s not a date,” Enzo protested, making his mother laugh silently where he couldn’t see her.
Martin left the table and crossed over to him to kneel and gently put his hands on his shoulders. “Then you don’t need to fear it as one,” he said softly. He affected a minor change to the boys collar. “It’s you she likes, not your clothes.” He booped Enzo’s nose. The boy wiped it as a reflex. “Just remember to take the tie off before you go on the waterwheel rides, yeah?”
“He will, Martin,” Bridget commented. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Enzo looked horrified as he remembered his mother was coming to the holoroom with them as a chaperone. Martin leaned in. “I don’t think she’ll join you on the rides, yeah?”
Enzo snuck in a quick hug. He was still scared, of course.
Hadrian walked Caldan to the Rodomon’t shuttle bay, chatting as they went. “So, I need to thank you,” Hadrian said, ducking under a doorway by reflex, despite having several inches clearance.
“What for,” Caldan asked, wondering if he could get the Cervidian to give him his hold-all so he could actually carry it .
“Well, for sorting things out with a certain director,” Hadrian told him.
“Oh, that?” Caldan scoffed. “That was nothing. He just needed a reminder that acting is supposed to be about FUN is all! Now he’s got that down, he’s lightening his touch.”
“Either way,” Hadrian responded as they entered the bay, “you’ve cheered him up so Simone’s happier with her life and that makes things better for me. So thanks.”
“No need,” Caldan responded. “You carried my bags. Thanks enough.”
“You know, when you first got on this ship I was sure you’d be a pain in the backside?”
“You realised you were wrong?”
Hadrian scoffed. “No, I was totally correct! The way you’ve been following everyone around? Taking notes? A total annoyance. But one I’m going to miss.”
“I’d say I’d miss you but I’m going to be seeing a lot of you in my writing over the next few months.”
“Send me a copy when you’re done,” Hadrian said, handing him his bag so he could get on the shuttle.
“Send me a vid of the play,” Caldan responded, waving.
In the presidential complex, two figures sat eating in the private rooms. Chichester passed the Hasperat Sauce across the table, sending it down the track that she’d had mounted on the table with the push of a button. It stopped just shy of Marius Postain’s seat and he had to reach slightly for the green tinged sauce. “So, I’m told some of Karrin’s exports will be coming here,” she asked, wondering at how little conversation had gone on in the last half hour.
“Oh, absolutely,” Postain replied. “I know supplies here have been a little pushed since the influx. And you’ve heavy goods to export,” he continued as he spread the sauce on his meat. “It’s a fair deal all around, I think.”
“Well, it’ll certainly help,” she smiled. “Are you here for long this time?”
“Well, they won’t be able to fit us in for a couple of weeks, Chich,” he told her. He sighed. “Look, um…” He put down his knife and fork. “I’ve been thinking about things these last few days, Chich,” he confessed. “About you and me and the rather open secret of our relationship?”
“Ri-i-ght,” Chichester drawled, hoping this wasn’t going the way she thought it was.
“Well, there were times when I couldn’t help but think of you when going into combat and… well, I’ve figured I have to come to a decision.” He put the pot back on the ‘train’ and sent it back up. “About us, I mean.”
“You’re… you’re not…” Chichester sighed. “Is this a goodbye,” she asked.
“Depends,” Postain said with resignation.
She kept looking at him. “Depends on what,” she asked breathlessly.
He pointed to the train and the pot on the back. Or, rather, the box. She reached out for it tentatively and realised Postain had come closer along the table to kneel beside her as she opened the box. “Depends on the answer to the question of ‘Will you marry me’, Chichester,” he asked.
END
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Amazee Dayzee
- Posts: 25950
- Joined: Tue Aug 12, 2014 6:24 pm
Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT
I really enjoyed reading all of this story! Hope that there is a happy ending!