U.S.C. RODOMONT

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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

THIRTY-SEVEN

“We’re not in visual range, are we,” Postain asked.

“No, sir,” Maldak replied. “Audio only.”

“Xarra?”

“On it, sir.” She made orders and, after a few moments, told the Captain that security had introduced the Doctan and the author.

“I’m copying incoming only down to our guests quarters,” Maldak stated. “They’ll be able to hear them and us but not be heard. The other ship’s getting impatient.”

“Right, then,” he responded. “Put ‘em on.”


A static filled transmission came through the speakers and Maldak did her best to clear it up. <”This is Cadan Tikran of the Star Council Jarrak class ship Tibri to alien vessel intruding on our space. You are ordered to stop your vessel immediately and prepare to receive us at the following location...”>

“This,” Postain replied, “is Captain Marius Postain of the United Security Council Battleship Rodomont. Your order is refused. We will NOT hold our current position for reasons that will become clear when our ships meet. We have no hostile intent but, as we are responding to a distress signal sent from your space some time ago, we do not have the time to wait. According to our calculations, we will intercept you on current heading in ten of our standard hours.”

<”You misunderstand, Rodomont,”> the voice replied. <”It is not a threat from us. You are entering a stagnant warzone.”>

“The warning is appreciated, Tibri. We’ll be careful. Rodomont out.” Maldak cut the link.

“Bartleby,” Postain ordered. The Lappinean turned an erect ear to indicate she’d heard her Captain. “Slow us down a bit. Power up shields. Sciences? Start scanning for radiation and explosives within… a thousand kilometres of the ship.”

“You suspect mines,” Xarra queried.

“I suspect everything,” Postain replied.


Jak had told the pair what the Captain wanted of them and, although the Doctan had rolled her eyes and complained she didn’t like be used as a spy, she rose to greet Caldan as the door had closed. “So, you’re a writer,” she asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s just a greeting, by the way,” she claimed.

Caldan hadn’t quite been sure he believed her. “And you’re a Doctor,” he replied, copying her kiss just in case she wasn’t fibbing. He offered a hand. “I’m Caldan Ravel,” he told her. “This is our way of saying hello.”

“Kira Tyla, Doctan of Karrin” she replied, accepting the hand and shaking it. “I kinda preferred my way.”

“So did I,” Caldan admitted. “But I doubt the Captain would like being greeted like that.”

She laughed a polite laugh as the call was put through.


Twenty minutes on, the pair were sat opposite the Captain in his ready room. “I can’t tell you much,” The Doctan started. “Save that Tibri is a legend from the Ikaerian Nebula worlds. A fierce creature that belied it’s species nature by protecting the inhabitants of its’ worlds.” She drank her water in one go. “Doesn’t have the right impurities but it doesn’t taste bad,” she offered. “Sometimes victors in war offer olive branches to the vanquished, I understand. Trying to get them back onside. It could be that.”

“Or an indication the Nebula side won the war,” Postain mused. And they’re consolidating before they do anything else.”

“I noted the guy you spoke to is unsure of himself,” Caldan offered. “The tone of his voice changed after you told him to stuff his order. He tried to make a joke of it as he said it wasn’t a threat. He’s not used to people challenging his order thus he probably hasn’t been giving them long. Push him too hard and he might just make a mistake.”

Postain nodded slightly. He understood that problem. Mistakes cut both ways in situations like this. He needed to approach the situation with caution.

“Will you bring the situation on Karrin into the discussion,” Tyla asked hesitantly.

“When the situation is sounded out better,” Postain assured her. “When I think it’s safe to do so. I might be able to arrange for you to listen in to any meetings as you did the communication.”


Tyla looked around as Caldan walked beside her in the hallway. The others were casting her enquiring glances and the occasional one pushed away from her or towards her as they passed.

Caldan smirked. “You’ve got the attention my writing hasn’t yet gained me,” he told his purple shirted companion.

“It’s only because you all look so strange to me,” Tyla replied breezily. “The weird always concerns us, doesn’t it? Concerns us, captivates us, consumes all our thoughts…”

“We’re weird to you,” Caldan enquired with a chuckle. “But we all look so normal!”

She ‘ha’ed and walked in step with him. “In the space occupied by the Council… MY council, not yours, we had a common progenitor. A lost ancient race who had a way of travelling through space we’ve never understood. A sort of ‘beacon’ system, we believe. It grabbed ships from wherever they were and brought them immediately to their destination. Or so legends go. That’s why the Jestavan civilisation…” She put a hand on her chest and bowed. “...that’s my species, by the way. That’s why our civilisation is about near one hundred percent the sentient life in our space.” She swung her black and white, mottled, face around, taking the rest of her body with her, her arms out wide. “So many variations of species in one place? It’s… It’s quite something.”

Caldan cheered at the physical expression of joy. “Oh, we’ve had our problems in the past,” he admitted. “The prey war for one. But we find the best way to learn to live with a people is to actually live with them. There’s no experience greater than experience,” he added. He flipped his pad out and noted down that line. He fancied using it. He thought of something. “Do Jestavanians drink?”

“You’ve already seen me do that, Caldan.” She looked cheekily at him. “You mean do we drink intoxicants?” She shrugged. “I have something that’ll tell me if something’s safe for me to drink,” she admitted. “I’ve heard of this Wheel Star Bar. I suppose I should test it out.” She stopped at her door and claiming it was a ‘goodbye’ gesture, kissed him fully on the mouth. “I’ll say ‘hello’ again in a few minutes,” she promised.

Caldan really hoped the President hadn’t said ‘goodbye’ to Postain in a similar way as he waited.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

The way this chapter has progressed is really intense! Nice job!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

THIRTY-EIGHT


“Fire torpedo,” Postain told his active weapons officer. Kridd had picked up gravimetric readings from the space ahead and it seemed to travel in several axis in front of them, indicating it might be trouble to try and go around or over… or, indeed, under… it. With that in mind, the Captain had decided to break out one of the expensive torpedoes and have it primed for fragmentation detonation. They couldn’t see anything in front of them but they knew that light refraction technology existed so it could well be what was stopping them seeing anything right now. They’d made five torpedoes ready, with considerable detonation potential. Now the Feline on station was firing the first one.


The device slid from the launcher, making noise in the ship behind it and nothing in the void ahead. Its engine lit up and powered it on its pre-programmed course into space. Being a thoughtless machine, it didn’t make anything of the Rodomont putting its shields up behind it as it powered away from the ship. It didn’t ask what it was doing or why. It simply carried out its duties, which were to proceed a hundred thousand kilometres into space and explode with everything it was worth. This it did without hesitation.


The bridge watched as the torpedo detonated, sending out explosive energy in all directions, unfettered by friction and atmosphere. The energy overwhelmed the defences of several things the officers couldn’t see and they added their own power to the detonations. “Keep scanning for any sonar reflections,” Postain ordered. Maldak nodded. She was doing that anyway. She pulled up the map of the area and overlaid the sonar map onto it to give a mostly accurate display of where more invisible things lay. She computed the distance to a notable clump of them towards the far end of the detonation effect and Postain ordered the second torpedo fired.


Kerri watched the controls as the second device launched. She was happy to admit she was afraid right now. This was the first proper test of the system since the repairs had begun. Indeed the repairs were still going on about the lesser systems but this was vital. She ran through several dozen things that could go wrong as… oh, the torpedo was away. She ran her checks on the circuitry. It was all behaving as expected, shutting down the launchers as soon as the pill of death had launched and shutting down in the correct order too. The system auto loaded the third in the room behind her and systems moved up into standby. “How’s Darren,” a voice asked from behind her, making her jump with such alacrity that she actually managed to land facing the person. “Sorry,” Engineer Newcastle said, looking ready to back away. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Kerri breathed out, smiled and put one hand on her chest and the other on the Mican’s shoulder. “Youdidn’t,” she fibbed, having still not gotten over that event fully, it seemed. “we’rejust abletoreact likethat!” A coy grin as her heart rate stabilized. “It’sacurse, butI’ve learnedto live withit!”

“Good to know. So,” she repeated, “how’s your handsome lunatic?”

“Oh, he’sthick, smart, gorgeous, handsome, funny,maddening and gettingbetter,”

“Well, give him a kiss from me some time, will ya? Saving Colin like that.”

Kerri said she’d do so and half turned around before she realised what the Mican had said. “Wait...Youand Corncob?” She turned. “Howlong’sthat beengoingon?” Newcastle stared at her until Kerri repeated herself more slowly.

“About a month. We’re taking it slow though. You know? Slow? Where you put gaps between words?”

“Iknowslow,” Kerri protested, deliberately speeding up her words. “It’sforpeoplewhohavetime!”

“Hah.” She turned the smile off. “Seen Kalva yet?”

Kerri knew she was talking of Ollsen’s mate. “No,” she said, trying to avoid looking Newcastle in the eye. “I, er… I think we’d better get back to work, eh?” She watched, emotionally slowed, as a third torpedo prepared for launch.


Bartleby watched the space ahead of them for any sign of being about to hit a mine that could blow the ship in half as they moved through the minefield. “How many of these things are out there,” she wondered as the latest destruction rang up on screen.

“Um, hopefully not more than we have torpedoes,” Kridd replied, trying to make his tone hopeful. “I’m beginning to read less radiation ahead of us so, hopefully. The feline paused as a mine detonated on the shields, shaking the ship and making the lights flicker and judder. “”That one was close,” he said redundantly. “Uh. Shields topside down to fifty-three percent power!”

“Bartleby,” Postain warned. “More care.”

“Doing my best, sir.”

“Su...suggest, uh, taking power from non essential systems and routing it to shields, sir,” Kridd mentioned,

“Close the zoo, you mean,” Postain joked grimly.

“We have a zoo?”

Now the joking attitude was replaced by a sharper tone. “Do it, you idiot.”

“Uh, sir.” The feline pressed buttons. “Taking power from the holoroom, the galnet servers – except gold channel, of course – the lights in communal areas and, uh, other things and assigning them to shields.” He paused as his alterations took effect. “Shields at one hundred and seventy seven percent, sir.”

“Good. You’re not an idiot.”

“Thank you, sir.”


Five minutes and two more close calls later, the ship was through the line and resumed her course as Bartleby finally allowed herself to think how bad that could have been if the mines had been magnetic.

“Why a minefield,” Xarra asked curiously, shifting in her seat to get closer to Postain.

“Depends which side laid it,” the Captain replied. “Minefields are usually used as protection from an oncoming enemy and to allow forces to be redeployed elsewhere. So the question is did one side decide to protect their furthest colony or… Did one side know that the USC had been asked for help and which way we would come?”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

If somebody made a joke like that and then did what they were told to do only AFTER they were called an idiot, I wouldn't apologize. Nope, you are STILL an idiot.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

THIRTY-NINE


The Captain made his way down to the armoury as the ship continued ambling its way to the rendezvous point agreed with the ‘Star Council’ ship and he stepped into the desired room. A target range was the first door off the internal passage, with a code locked weapons room and analysis station beyond and that was where he found the weapons specialist, a thickset Schäfer type Canine male named Paltan who looked towards him as he approached. “I’m just about through with my analysis of the weapon, Captain. I had trouble when half my power vanished for a little while but everything’s back.”

“Words are time,” Postain retorted. “Conserve them.”

“Tech had to analyse it to override the palm reader,” he stated. “I can’t guarantee others won’t have self destruct capability but it wasn’t built into this one. Output’s equivalent to a Kebron mark seven plasma blaster but the power cell is considerably more efficient and it has the capability to recharge itself in the same way our engines can.”

Postain nodded. “They may have extrapolated that from us. The explorer ship that made contact with the Star Council a decade or so back had engines with that capability. We tried to get relations going with them. They may have been given the information.”

“Well, they appear to have done well with it. It’s got the capability of breaching our armour but it would take several shots.”

“Well, that’s useful knowledge.”

Paltan pulled up a padd and handed it to the Captain. “The technical analysis,” he inferred. “According to Crawshay in IT, the palm grip can be reprogrammed but it has a specific quirk. It’ll fire for anyone until a Karrinean – or whatever their species is named – grips it. Then it’s hardwired to pairbond and needs to be disabled at a mainframe again.”

“Possibly for resupply after the death of the commander,” Postain mused. He noted the sharp eye of the armourer on him. “We found several bodies but only one weapon. Logically it was the Commanders. A non-combat station wouldn’t need an armoury.”

“Might explain why they didn’t destroy it, I suppose. Precision strike and all that?”

Postain grunted acknowledgement of the idea. He didn’t rate it highly. “The weapon stays here,” he ordered. “I have no intention of telling them we’ve got it.”

“Them?”

“We’re meeting one of their ships in a few hours. Speak with Yarkin. Make sure all sidearms are ready.”

“Aye, sir.” The armourer watched as Postain headed out. He put the call in.


His next port of call was the medical bay that was playing home to the Jestavan patients. He noted the young ‘nurse’ Jul had assisting him. He mentally checked his dates and it was, still, officially the holidays. He’d contemplated reducing the Holiday dates but there’d been resistance from the school section. “Mr Carvalho,” he said, looking like he wanted the boy to leave. After replying brightly, Enzo realised that was exactly what he wanted so gave him a salute and did so after Postain returned the salute. “Where would be the best place to put them if I didn’t want them scanned,” he asked Jul. “The decontamination suite?”

Jul sighed. He hated being asked rhetorical questions. “Probably the best way to stop them being scanned, yes,” he admitted. “Especially if we run scans at the same time as they run theirs.” He gestured expressively with his hands. “Ours interfere with theirs, if you see what I mean?”

“I do. Prep them for a move.” He turned to look at the trio, focussing more on the acknowledged leader of the trio than the others. “We have a ship coming in,” he told them. “they claim to be a Star Council ship called the Tibri but I am NOT taking them at their word without further investigation. For the moment I wish to keep your presence here secret.”

“For you to… have the advantage,” Kohlich asked straight, no whisper of a smile.

“One of the reasons,” Postain grumbled, leaving the room for Jul to organise.


“It’s an adaptogenic virus,” Flakk told the Captain. “From the few tests I’ve run with samples ‘infecting’ blood of our species groups it’s still not effective against our bloods. It’s still specific to theirs. Interestingly, though, computer simulations indicate elements of Raitchian blood actually seems to retard it somewhat. You know how resistant they are to viruses. Of course this is just computer tests. I’m not willing to go to live experimentation.”

“And I’m not willing to let you. No Doctor Frankfurter's here.”

“Frankenstein.”

“Who cares. Is it information that could be useful to them?”

“They might have used it if they’d had Raitchian blood to test it against. As for now? It’d be of little use without a Raitchian of type B3 to test it on. That’s the one with this adaptive protein…” he used a digital pencil to ring a small section of the padd screen. “that’s leading the fightback in the simulations.”

“Computer simulations?”

“Using samples taken from that ship.”

“Of course. Keep me informed.”


Postain felt like an old king as he sat in the refreshment area closest to the bridge. Headed towards an unknown situation and here he was, touring his encampment before the battle. Whilmot had managed to clean up the transmission from the ship but it hadn’t told them much they hadn’t already guessed already. One side had used a biological weapon, bombing entire colonies with it. Unable to find a cure, the Star Council had reached out for help although they stated they’d destroyed the complex making the virus. That, Postain reasoned as he ate a sandwich, had probably wiped out that colony too. But the virus wasn’t contained. The death toll must have been extreme, he supposed. And they had no idea who’d won. For that matter, they had no idea what the Star Council might have done in reply. Or if the Nebulan lot had used the virus AS a reply. Everything needed to be relayed to Postlethwaite but he had to be the first point of contact. Any report would be tinged with his apprehensions. His hopes and fears. His suppositions. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Still, he thought sternly. It was his duty. He’d heard Chichester remind him of that in the last ‘letter’ sent with Postlethwaite’s last communication. She’d stated her pride in him and he’d been happy it was just a video recording as he’d blushed slightly at the words. He gave absent thought to proposing when he got back from this assignment and found he wasn’t shocked by the thought.

<”Xarra to Captain Postain,”> his comm said.

“Postain here,” he replied.

<”We’re within visual range, sir,”> she told him.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” He replied.

A moment later, he stood in front of the viewscreen and observed the ship heading towards them. Even at that range he could tell she was no freighter… “Forty-five minutes to intercept, sir,” Bartleby announced.

“Good. Be ready to raise shields,” he ordered.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Great well-written chapter once again! Keep it up!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FORTY


The two ships paused together in space, some two hundred thousand kilometres from each other, facing towards their opposites. Postain had his shields raised and the scanning scramblers in the isolation bat initiated to hide his guests presence as he told Maldak to put the other ship through. He stood as the screen cleared to show the now familiar mottled black and white faces of the Jestavanian Commander and his closest officer appeared in front of him. <”Welcome to our space, Captain,”. He said curtly. <”You ARE Captain Postain, I presume?”>

“I am indeed,” Postain replied. “And I thank you for the welcome, Cadan Tikran. Yours is the first ship we’ve seen since starting on our mission.”

<”Yes,”> he replied frostily. <”Although I am gratified you seem to have made it through the minefield relatively unscathed, I have to ask as to what your fore mentioned ‘mission’ is. We are untrusting with outsiders. Our last direct encounters with them – including your own council – have not been conducive to trust.”>

“Yes, we do recall your side never apologised for the attacks on Pandera and Cabbary Space station,” Postain replied testily. “But that’s not what we’re here for. We have no hostile intent. Last week we discovered a devastated planetoid on the edge of our territory. Uncharted until then. We located the impact of a drone ship that had collided with it. It contained a computer system that was identified as coming from your space. From the Council.”

<”How could you possibly know that?”>

“We still had the details recorded by the Fauntleroy a decade back, limited though they were. The computer language had enough similarities in base to identify it as from here. With little real information, we’ve been sent to find out what’s going on.”

<”You’re a warship,”> Tikran replied simply.

“We didn’t know if it was a request for assistance or an attack. You don’t send an ambassador into a warzone, you send someone who can fight. Even if they don’t want to,” he added.

<”Understood. The situation has changed in the last two years. Your presence is no longer needed. The situation has calmed.”>

“Good,” Postain replied curtly. “Now I just need to hear that from the Council themselves. You may choose to escort us if you wish but we intend to proceed.”

Postain watched as the Cadan straightened up. Niceties over, he thought as the opposite number tensed his tone. <”I have just told you that your presence is not required, Rodomont. That means you turn back.”>

“I’m required by my area command to make contact with the Star Council, Cadan Tikran,” Postain replied, sitting down. The camera panned down to keep him on screen. “They won’t accept the word of a Captain in this situation. As you know, our rank does not set policy. The first thing they would do is send more ships. We know where the Star Council is based so…”

<”It’s changed,”> the Cadan told him firmly. <”The war made the change necessary. And it means I can’t tell you where it is. Sorry.”>

“Then we’ll proceed as planned. We might pick up their trail from there. If not, I can report back that they’ve moved.”

<”Our scans picked up a Jestavanian on your ship,”> Tikran announced, changing the subject. <”From Karinn, I take it?”>

“Yes. Looking to ask the Council why the colony seems to have been abandoned to it’s fate.”

<”Things have been hard these last few years. War and a virulent contagion have stretched things to the limit. But, as I said, things are quieting down now. We will be looking to make contact with our colony again soon. We’ll sort out their problems.”> He stopped. <”I would like to meet your ‘ambassador’. To tell them that myself.”>

Postain read what the science station had sent to his arm rest before replying. “You are quite welcome to come aboard and speak to them. Provided, of course, you are free of the viral contamination. My people are resistant to the virus, as it happens. But she isn’t. It IS why they sent a Doctor, of course, to analyse if there’s any threat of contamination.”

<”Are you insinuating something,”>

“No. Just stating the facts.”

The Cadan smirked slightly at the directness. <”I am clear of the Kadric strain,”> he assured. <”Although I believe the distant colony wasn’t affected by the virus. I will come aboard in five minutes.”>

“We’ll be expecting you. I’m sending the co-ordinates for our main shuttle bay.” Postain cut the line after sending the instructions. He looked to Xarra. “I’ll need you to meet our guest,” he ordered. “Maldak, tell Yarkin to bring the Doctan to the conference room. Are you sure on this, Kridd?”

“Uh… Reasonably… I mean yes, sir.”

Postain nodded tersely. “I’ll take that as an affirmation,” the Captain replied, “and come down on you like bricks after if you’re wrong. Bartleby, you’ll have the bridge.”

“Aye, sir,” the Lappinean replied as Xarra headed out.

Postain watched intently as the Jestavanian shuttle launched from their ship. This was a dangerous moment in his view. “Drop shields,” he instructed, tensing as the electric power field sparkled into nothing. If they wanted to fire…


...Nothing happened. Xarra reached the primary shuttle bay, passing Hadrian and the Doctan going the other way. Yarkin, on hearing they were having visitors, had chosen to provide a small guard, consisting of herself, Gelligan and Palfrenna. Weapons holstered and clipped of course. They stayed in step with the Mican first as she entered the bay observation room.


The shuttle came in for landing and Xarra noted the blast back effect of a repulsory engine that softened their landing as the hover system disengaged. Xarra stepped into the main part of the bay after the noise subsided and the atmosphere shield came back into play. She noted that Postain didn’t want the Cadan to feel trapped right now. She understood that. The door to the ship opened and the Cadan stepped forward, replete with his own guard. She stepped forward. “Welcome aboard, Cadan Tikran,” she stated. “I’m Commander Hilla Xarra, First Officer of the Rodomont. This,” she added, indicating the Chief, “is Security Chief Yarkin. The Captain is awaiting your presence in the conference room.” She offered a hand in the way the Doctan had instructed.

His hand was firm. She might even have called it angry. “In the name of peace, I accept,” he replied tightly. “And this is my chief of security, Caldik.” The introduced member of his party shook his head politely. “Lead on.”

So Xarra did.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I love how this has come out once again! Great work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-ONE


Postain just about had time to let Doctan Tyla in on the situation and the fact that he’d termed her an ambassador from the colony looking to find out the general situation war-wise. He’d just finished quickly telling her they’d sent a Doctor...Doctan to check into the virus situation when the door booped. Tyla had done her best to take it in, even if it was making her head spin. The Captain hadn’t told her not to trust the Cadan but she was going into it with only a partially open mind. He’d have to earn her trust, especially after that call earlier. She sat a few chairs down from the door as the Captain stood. He stepped around the table, with its flowers and water carafe, to stand ready to welcome the unwelcome guest and his team. “Open up,” he told the door. Tyla smiled slightly as it complied. She quite liked the voice activated technology. She wished Karrin had more of it than they did. It’d certainly make opening the door easier when she was carrying groceries.

The door opened to reveal Xarra and the Cadan and their guards. “Captain Postain,” she said grandly, “may I present Cadan Tikran of the Tibri and his security Chief, Caldik.”

As before, Postain had been instructed on the correct way to offer a handshake but decided to go in for his normal way first. The Jestavanian looked at it strangely before accepting it. “It’s meant to indicate an ‘empty hand’,” Postain explained. “No weapons.”

“Understood.” Tikran looked sideways at Tyla. “And this must be Doctan Tyla of Karrin,” he inferred, barely giving the Cervidian standing just behind her a glance.

“I am,” she granted, inclining her head nobly before sliding up to her feet and offering her hand in the traditional Jestevanian way. “And I am gratified to meet you, Cadan.”

“I’m sure you are,” he greeted in a cold, humorous, tone. “We’ve been awfully negligent with your colony, I fear. Something we may have to reassess.”

“That may well be appreciated,” she replied, releasing the hand as Xarra stepped back to let the door close, with Yarkin and Jak staying inside as the Cadan’s security remained in place. “But we need to find out what’s been going on, as I’m sure you can appreciate.” She sat back down. Postain wondered if she’d maintain such calm if his team wasn’t there with her.


The Cadan had a formal way about him, it was certain. He told them details they’d not known before about how the first attacks had come and done considerable damage to several worlds before they’d managed to start striking back at the enemy. His world, Stalkar, had been one of the first battlegrounds and he’d chosen sides on that basis, rather than any political vision. He’d seen the atrocities of chemical weapons in use by the opposition. He’d held the dying and the dead, the burned and the scorched, the freezing and the frozen. Of course he acknowledged that his side had carried out their own reprehensible attacks but he’d seen the viral effects which he ‘had details of on his ship if the Doctan would like to come and see them.’

“It may be better to send those records here,” Tyla replied smoothly. “The medical centre on this ship has different genotypes they can analyse the records with. One computer simulation already shows that one of the blood types may be useful in fighting the viral containment.”

The Cadan sat forward. “I thought your people were immune, Captain,” he asked with concern.

“We are,” Postain allowed, “but one of our species has a remarkable amount of disease and virus resistance that, apparently, may even be able to retard this virus.” he spread his hands. “At least in computer simulations. I can have our Chief Medical Officer send over the files if you wish.”

Tikran shook his head slightly in agreement. “That may be an idea.”


Jak watched over the events, taking in the other security officers the Cad-whatever had brought with him. They were making his antlers twitch. They seemed ill at ease here, looking at him and Yarkin as though they were threats. Which, he supposed, they were. It may be his people’s natural worries but he was wishing Gelligan and Palfrenna had stayed on this side of the door, rather than the other. He was quite happy Xarra had gone back to the bridge and that the dull light on his security comm indicated the ship shields were raised. They were secure but he still worried. If anything happened, it was going to happen in this room. He set the camera in his antler to record, just in case. He wondered what Simone was up to.


Caldan Ravel stopped outside the conference room as he headed for the bridge, which he was long past seeing. “What are you doing here,” he asked the Canine guard.

“Guarding, pal,” Gelligan replied. “Can’t really tell you more than that, other than you shouldn’t be here.” He inclined his head. “G’wan, away with you, future prize winner.”

“I’m a prize winner already,” Caldan announced, heading away. “Ma’am Valkich’s 5th grade literary awards!”

“Tough crowd,” Gelligan mused, making his colleague snort.


“Whoa,” Caldan breathed as he stepped onto the bridge and looked out of the viewer, “that’s a starship!”

“Good to see you’re awake, Mr Ravel,” Xarra remarked without turning around. “It’s only ten. Late night?”

He thought back on his evening with the Karrinean Doctan in the starwheel bar and how she’d managed to drink him under the table. Apparently she was perfectly fine right now. Must be something in their metabolism, he supposed. He’d had to take an anti-intoxicant from Doctor Jul to operate this morning, even if he did still have a headache the size of the Lappinean on comms. “Had earlier,” he mentioned, sensing he needed to agree. “I take it a delegation’s here,”

“No comment,” Xarra replied, chuckling. “We’re just keeping things ticking over.”

“With shields up and…” Caldan paused in his little tour of bridge stations. “weapon’s on a quick charge? Just in case?”

“Yep,” Xarra replied. “protocol insists.”

Caldan noted the details mentally and bowed over Maldak’s shoulder. “Hello,” he said, keeping his hands behind his back. “and who’s the most important officer on the bridge?”

“Commander Xarra, Weapons Officer Hastin, Lieutenant Bartleby, Science Officer Kridd…” Maldak replied, counting on her fingers. “But don’t think comms Officer Maldak didn’t appreciate the compliment.”

Xarra turned in her chair to watch the flirt continue to press his luck. “Ah, the Commander tells you to go places,” Caldan continued, “the helm officer takes you there. Science tells you if you should trust them when you get there or have weapons shoot them. But it’s comms that hears them first. Makes you incredibly important, Maldak,” he finished.

“Ahem,” Xarra coughed as Maldak laughed in charm. “We can all hear you, Caldan.”


The Cadan stood up. The meeting was, seemingly, over. He hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted but he’d agreed to allow the Rodomont entry unopposed on a strict flightplan. Any deviation would see the ship attacked. Tyla had refused his offer of travelling with them as well and he’d taken that with considerably less grace and had to apologise for it. Now he stood contritely and offered his hand to the Dotan. She took it and he left, under escort from Yarkin.

“What did you make of him,” Postain asked.

“Ernest,” Tyla replied, pouring herself a water. “Loyal to his side. Dedicated. A strong officer. Your take?”

“He’s a liar,” Postain retorted. “All that talk of the virus and, at no point, did he think to mention that the Stalkar created it.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Now that they know he is a liar, it will be fun to see what they do with him. Can't wait for the next addition!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-TWO

The Captain had decided to stay where he was and summon the senior Officers to him for what came next. He had to show them what the IT department had pulled from the transmission on the station. Again, Bartleby was in command on the bridge and he figured he’d soon have to think about promoting her. Full Lieutenant, perhaps. It was worth considering as Xarra entered and took a seat next to Tyla, who Postain had asked to be present. The Chiefs from Sciences and Engineering joined Yarkin and Flakk on the other side of the table. Jak had been happy to be relieved by the Chief and had walked briskly away to resume normal duties. Which, in his off-duty hours, tended to consist of supporting Simone’s efforts in acting and watching vidfilms. Whilmot hadn’t been invited. Postain didn’t think he was needed. He’d only be answering pointless technical questions anyhow. Let them find him and ask him about them later.


He laid out for the group what had gone down with the Cadan of the other ship that, according to Bartleby, hadn’t moved. Postain supposed it was getting in contact with their command to find out what to do next. Or, possibly, waiting for the files from Flakk, which the Wolven Doctor would have to send AFTER this meeting. He laid out his decisions for the moment and then came to why he’d made the decisions. “I don’t know why he lied to me – or if he even knew he had – but there were definitely some things he omitted.”

“Like what,” Xarra asked, her elbows on the table as she leaned forward. The chair was as far forward as it could go but it wasn’t designed for Micans so there was still a bit of a gap between her and the table.

“It’s mostly an omission,” Postain confessed. “He claimed he was from one of the first badly hit colonies in their war. The…” he glanced at Tyla “Stalkar colony?”

She shook her head. “That’s the one.”

“What he didn’t know,” Postain continued, “is that our IT department managed to reconstruct the communication the derelict station managed to send.” He clicked the monitor and turned it to face the others as he’d already seen it.

“Quite handsome,” Tyla muttered as the face of the station’s senior appeared.

<”Commander Milrikk to Star Council.”> the recording said, only flickering slightly on playback as the dead spoke. <”Hope is fading for the rescue mission from the U.S.C regarding the biological weapon unleashed by Stalkar forces. Ships are headed our way. We need backup before they arrive. We have no defences available to us. We cannot stop them. Now wiping all information on our mission. The remote will relay data to us when it contacts them and the station will relay it on automatically. If it can.”>

“Remarkably perfunctory,” Science Chief Tavin said as the broadcast cut off.

“But it only alleges one side of the story,” Flakk put in.

“It alleges far more than that,” Harra said. “It alleges they’re responsible for unleashing a plague that may have killed millions. Can we deal with such people?”

“Apparently we Micans could deal with Celicans, Harra,” Xarra put in. “Atrocities of war can’t be allowed to deny the chance to shape peace or we’d never move on.”

“The winning side sometimes wipes their own sins under the carpet,” Tyla contributed. “Looking paler than your opponent is a good look.”

“Whiter than white,” Postain interpreted. “And, if you can’t, you hurl mud at your enemy.”

“Either way,” Flakk declared, “it changes NOTHING about why we’re here. Our mission was to discover if they needed our help or were a threat and that is STILL our mission.”

“But what…” Harra started.

“If they’ve won this war of theirs,” Flakk snapped back, “then they’re the government we have to deal with now. They’re who we have to assess. For all we know, they may need the cure to this virus EVEN if they’re the ones who unleashed it. We are not here to judge them, Harra but we may be here to SAVE them. That’s our duty. Anything else is morality.”

“Morality is never something to be understated,” Tyla reminded her equal. “It shapes our judgement and how we step forward into the day.” She sighed. “But we have been separate from our people for a long time, respectively speaking. Perhaps WE now have to take them as we find. Judge them guilty and find them innocent at the same time. They’re our people, after all.”

“Do they know that,” Xarra queried.

“They will once we tell them,” Tyla replied.

“Those parts you substituted, Harra,” Postain remarked, “are they free of whatever caused the defects?”

The Equinna shrugged his mighty shoulders. “I honestly can’t tell, sir. Not without a station analysis system. These things fooled ours for three months. We can assume that’s their lifetime.”

“Which means we need to head back in a month at most,” Postain advised.


Down in the decontamination bay, Doctor Cobalt sat in a spare chair as Lieutenant Kohlich managed to walk towards her, holding on to a support as he tried not to lose control of the IV stand attached to his arm. She clapped shut the old paper book she’d been reading. “You’re getting stronger,” she told him.

A wavering smile spread across his face. “Got.. reason to,” he confided. “I hate… lying down with no...nothing to do.”

Kelly stood up. “And your voice is getting stronger too,” she told him uselessly. “Good. It indicates the damage to your lungs is reversing.”

He frowned at her. “Lungs?”

Kelly frowned, then relaxed. “Oh, yeah. Doctan Tyla told us you call them… ‘Kelans’? I.T. will be updating our translators soon…” She noted he still looked a bit confused. “Kelans,” she repeated, touching his chest above where the organs were.

He nodded. She’d gotten it wrong. He held her hand where it was as the others looked on. “Keldans,” he corrected. “Kelans are a purple fruit.”

Kelly pulled her hand back gently and laughed. “I hate new languages,” she confessed. “Always tripping over my tongue, Leftenant.”

“There’s a… straight line there, Doctan...Doctor,” Kohlich said. “Why are… we back in here?”

“Apparently there’s one of your ships about,” Kelly advised. “Captain’s trying to find out if we can trust them and if we want them to know about you. They could be people who don’t like you.” She winked and hoped it wasn’t some sort of insult. “There must be a few, eh?”

She felt his pulse quicken at the mention of his own people but then relax at her words. He was, she felt, still concerned. He carefully looked around and up at the ceiling. “They can’t… scan in here?”

“Not as far as we know.” She reversed his grip, taking his hand and putting it on top of her shirted chest so he could feel her pulse as she continued. “You’re safe here, Leftenant.”

“I hope so,” he remarked slowly, gesturing to the others not to try to get up as they’d been trying.

“We’ll not let you come to harm.”

He leaned a little closer. “I know that, Doctan Kelly,” he said, noting her heart beat increase with his nearness. “Well, I… feel it anyhow…”

Doctor Cobalt laughed and helped him back to his bed. She’d give them a small tour after. If they were up to it.


After Flakk sent what passed for his recordings on the simulations, the ship moved on.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This was a really great chapter once again! Keep up the good work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

People have noticed...

FOURTY-THREE

Hadrian Jak stopped off in a rest area on his way home. It was likely Simone was practising the play so he felt he had an hour or two to pass before dinner and he felt like a snack. Not that he’d tell Simone, of course. She held every snack against him at times and was totally unreceptive to any claims that he worked off any calories gained in the gym or in the constant movement. Nope. Every carb was a grenade designed to blow his stomach wide. So she wasn’t going to know about the protein bar, flavoured as it was, and tea. He stepped up to the machine, behind a Celican from engineering, and made his order before collecting his order and heading across to an unoccupied table. He sat and found himself looking out of a relayed transmission of the starboard external camera. It showed the alien ship was still out there, just watching. His antlers were still tingling.

“Is this seat free,” someone asked and brought Hadrian back to his surroundings. Doctor Martin Jul was stood opposite, with Enzo besides him. “Or is your mind on something else,” he asked.

Hadrian suddenly realised that the Mican wasn’t looking him in the eye but a few inches over his head and he realised the antlers had gone to a sharper, pointier, aspect. “Oh, sorry,” he said, mentally shifting them back to normal, “just thinking about our guests out there is all.” he glanced at the room and its full tables. “Of course, Doctor,” he said generously. “Please, be seated.” He took in the flamboyant sundae the boy had; something he’d surely never have the free credits for. Human fruits, Celican cream, Canine sauces… He supposed it was a good job that Raitchians could eat pretty much anything.

“Those antlers are cool,” Enzo enthused, pulling the chair out noisily.

“Thank you,” Hadrian said, inclining his head politely. “I’m told you’re a pretty cool nurse too.”

Enzo glanced in surprise from Hadrian to Martin and back again, innate Raitchian suspicion coming in as he tried to process the compliment and scan it for sarcasm. “Who told you,” he asked.

Hadrian smirked slightly. “Your mother,” he told him. “I talk to a lot of people when I walk the ship, y’know? Your mum always talks about you. She only says good things.”

“Aww, mom’s always do that,” Enzo said dismissively, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah, but yours means it,” Martin told him, ruffling the boys’ headfur. “Eat your sundae.” Martin looked up. “You not sure about these guys?”

“No,” Hadrian admitted, “I’m not. It’s probably nothing but… You’ve had more exposure to them than anyone. What do you think of them?”

“General observations only,” the Mican replied. “Doctor/Patient confidentiality applies, y’know?” He waved a hand with a small spoon in it before stirring his tea. “Our three are worrisome, panicked and still unsure of any race that isn’t their own. I’m still worried about the health of one of them – which I shouldn’t tell you about – but they’ve told me very little about their own race. Especially Leftenant – their way of pronouncing Lieutenant, I believe – Kohlich, who I can talk about because he’s not my patient now.” Now he gave a sly grin as he looked down at his sandwich. “Doctor Flakk took charge of him, officially.”

“I wonder why,” Hadrian mused.

“Because he’s interested in Doctor Kelly,” Enzo said before spooning some sundae into his mouth and making Martin swallow hard. “What,” he asked innocently, “it’s not like they’re hiding it.” he looked to Hadrian for support. “It’s… Martin, it's as obvious as when you and mum share those looks… isn’t it?”

Hadrian almost burst his sides trying not to laugh. “Sometimes, Enzo, the only people it’s not obvious to are the ones actually involved. It’s an art of delusion.”

“That I don’t have,” the boy declared.

“Really,” Martin remarked. “Two words. Ella Freesam.”

Enzo’s face fell somewhat as he tried to defend himself. “No, she’s just a good friend. Uh, no better than Fritter or, um…” He looked ashamed and spoke in a small voice. “Do you think she’s noticed?”


Darren lifted himself off the bed and stood, holding on to the frame for a moment.

“You think,” Corncob coughed from the other bed, “that you’ll be… able to get… back to your room in a hos...hospital gown?”

“Gotta try, Julius,” he replied, not coughing but feeling a bit of bile in his lower throat. “Can’t stay here forever, can I?”

“Hardly… been a day,” the little Mican replied as Flakk entered the room.

“Did I say you could get up, Levan,” the Wolven queried. No, Darren thought, it was more of a demand.

“Feeling OK enough to recuperate in my room, Doctor,” Darren claimed.

“Why is it patients insist on being stupid,” Flakk queried, pushing Darren back onto the bed. “No-one goes home until I say so, boy! Lie there and I’ll run checks on you now!” He swept to his desk and checked his appointments before comming an engineer and telling her he’d booked her in with the hologram dentist at 1745. She needed to clear that with her chief. “Right,” he added, “that’s that done.” he stood up and stalked over to Darren. He pulled the main scanner down for use. “Let’s see what things say. See if your brain’s in the right place for once.”

“Thought it was too much to be treated like a hero,” Darren told him.

“Heroes are often idiots,” Flakk replied. “So I’m treating you like a hero. But I’m a specialist so shut it and let me do my job.” He started the scans and deliberate proddings.


Ten minutes passed in general chat as the trio at the table discussed love, affection, marriage – well, Enzo and Hadrian wanted to discuss that and Martin merely kept quiet and listened as Hadrian extolled its virtues and downsides. The Security Officer noted the sly, sideways, glances the boy kept slipping to Martin and guessed a matrimonial matchmaker was at play here but it was fun to try and describe his relationship with his mate in safe for children terms and he didn’t even notice when the alien ship vanished into space and the Rodomont started moving on its course again.

“Oh, look,” Martin said eventually, “it’s time to get back.” He took the nearly empty sundae glass and his own plate over to the disintegrator. “I’ll catch you up,” he told Enzo, who scooted. “You have any idea how much doodoo you just dropped me in,” he complained to Hadrian as the Cervidian joined him.

“Oh, yeah,” Hadrian replied. “He looks to you like a dad already, Martin. Anything wrong with making it official?”

“Only that I don’t have a ring good enough for her. When I get one, I’ll do it.”

Hadrian put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re looking for the perfect ring,” he advised, “you’ll never find it. Look for one that suits her. It’ll become perfect when she wears it, Martin.” He patted the shoulder and walked away.


“Right. Lungs’re doing fine. Inhalation’s not terrible so you can go – now that I say so,” he added with a growl. “You take it easy for a few days and I include bed in that, boy! I’ll clear you from duty for the rest of the day but you mainly exist in a chair so you can do as normal tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Darren said, still blinking off the scanning. “I’ll bring you some grapes, Julius.”

“Hate… grapes,” Corncob coughed as Darren left, holding onto the wall.

“He knows,” Flakk grumbled.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Took long enough for them to notice though. Nice job!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURT|Y-FOUR

Caldan Ravel sat at the back of the theatre rehearsal room and tried his best to not be noticed as the players played out their parts on the stage ahead of him. Mrs Jak was doing her best but she was performing with a Director who couldn’t direct traffic and reading lines that wouldn’t be out of place on a show that premiered at three in the morning. The others were doing their best as well and he wondered what they’d do with something good like a Urich script or a Falkin novel. Or that Dickins guy from old Earth. That guy wrote tomes that read like treacle with characters who read like family. This guy directed like everyone was against his work and holding him back. He was reassured. He was better than this hack. He accidentally coughed at a stage direction and the director turned to look in his direction as he did his best to hide. The Canine peered into the darkness, raising a hand to protect his eyes from the light. “Who is that back there? What are you doing here?”

“Just taking notes,” Caldan replied. “Don’t mind me.”

“I think I WILL ‘mind you’,” the Canine stormed, crossing the room to confront him. “This is supposed to be private you…” He paused as he noted who he was about to abuse. A rather bored looking Celican in civvies and sandals. “Who are you?”

“Caldan Ravel, travelling vagabond and novellic scribbler,” the author replied civilly, simulating the tipping of a hat to the director.

“Taking notes,” the Director replied, a little less testily than he’d planned.

“Oh, yes.” He inclined his head. “Would you like commentary?”

“It’s still private!”

“Of course.” Caldan put his sandaled feet up on the table. “So you don’t need to pay attention to any of the things I say. But you should be warned,” he continued.

“Warned about what?”

“Ah, not here,” Caldan said, relenting. “Shall we say the rest area on deck three? In, um…”

The director/writer tapped his foot and kept his arms crossed. He knew the writer was here at the Captain’s behest and had to be treated with kid gloves. He might also have something of a point to make. It couldn’t hurt to listen, could it? Listen and ignore if he liked. “Half an hour, Celican. I’ll be there. Now get lost.”

Caldan sighed. “If you insist.” He stood up and picked up his notepad and pen. “As it is, don’t forget a lesson taught me in college.”

“What?”

“A performance, my tutor used to say, is eighty-five percent script and fifteen percent the actor. They’re performing the part so let them have a little space.”

“I fancy I know my plot better than anyone.”

“The person playing the part may argue otherwise. Anyhow, see you in thirty.” He hid a grin as he strode from the room, He’d bring up the flowery script thing in public.


Chief Yarkin stepped onto the bridge as she occasionally did when she was up this end of the ship. She headed into Postains’ office to talk to the Captain after checking on the people condemned to live under the sword of Damocles from the fight club. Several of them had kept their noses out of trouble and one, one of the civilians involved, had been dismissed from his job and was busy with a part time job in the shop. It was half the wage but keeping his finances going for now. Postain grunted. He’d probably have to meet that guy when picking up his drinki… He interrupted himself before finishing the line and Yarkin didn’t let on before moving on to talking about the defective circuits and her investigations into where they’d come from.


She’d located everything as coming in from Pandera tech and recommended that the Captain include all the details for IOC the next chance he managed to talk to Postlethwaite.

“Of course, Chief,” he stated. “Anything else?”

“Only a request for information, sir.”

He nodded. “Proceed.”

“Sir… at what point would it be prudent to head back?”

“Optimistically? As soon as we’ve achieved our objective. But, if I feel the odds stacking against us, I’ll give the order. I’m not looking to die for the Star Council, Yarra. The ship comes first.”

She nodded. “Aye, sir,” she stated. “Other than that, the ship appears to be sailing clear.”

“Good to hear. Dismissed, Chief.”

She headed out.


Bartleby kept her eyes fixed on the screen and almost missed the clock ticking over into her break. Xarra brought her attention to it with a few words. “Helana,” she said, “you’ve been staring at the screen for two hours. I’m sure they need a break, even if you don’t. Keltan, take the helm.”

One of the floating officers crossed over to take her spot and the Lappinean signed off so the Canine could sign on. She stretched her slim, tortoiseshell, shoulders and arched her back. “I’ll be back in an hour, sir,” she told Xarra.

“Go away, Helana,” Xarra breezed, waving dismissively at her as Postain emerged from his office so she put her hand away quickly.


Bartleby sauntered down towards the rest area and was more than a little surprised to see the Doctan there, sampling the wares. “What do you have,” she asked, wondering what the alien had chosen for her first… or second choice of food.

“Not much of a clue,” Tyla replied. “Why is everyone asking me that?”

Bartleby shrugged. “Curiosity, really. Probably best not to try Celican foods, y’know?”

Her new acquaintance looked up at her. “Why?”

“Well the stuff’s all replicated but it’s designed to copy their cuisine. And they like their meat live.”

“Ah. I see. Good job that’s Feline then. Field stuff for you?”

The Lappinean sat down, unbidden. “My species is mostly vegetarian. Our physiology doesn’t cope with it if pure. But I’m not totally pure. Think I’ve got some feline in me,” she finished, stretching her arm to show off her multiple colourings.

“Your biologies must be SO fascinating,” Tyla said, shaking her head happily.

“You have no idea,” Bartleby replied, shortly before something attracted her attention to the display on the screens. Something flashed at them and the ship rocked.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Still very much enjoying where this is heading! Really great!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-FIVE

Bartleby was almost running back towards the bridge before the shaking had stopped and was generously surprised to see Tyla sprinting to keep up with her. “What’s happening,” Tyla asked, straining to keep her breath.

“Pretty obviously,” Bartleby replied, jumping past an engineer at work as the red alert band glowed on the walls, “something’s hit us!” She mentally cheered as she beat the fit new friend to the bridge and almost ran into the back of the Command Chair.

“Welcome back from your break Bartleby,” Postain said, “take your post… Don’t bother logging off and on! We haven’t time! What are you doing here, Doctan?”

“I’m, uh, looking to help,” she replied, suddenly questioning what WAS she doing there?

“Right, whatever. Medical cover might be useful. Kridd, she won’t know the medical kit instruments, you’re her helper. Be ready.”

Bartleby took over her station and worked through what was going on from the screens. It looked like there was a ship some distance away on the sensors, way beyond weapons range, that they were headed for at maximum standard speed with shields already raised..

“Whoever they are,” Xarra told her, “they seem to have fired on us. A torpedo teleported in some thousand kilometres ahead of us. We only just got the shields up in time. The speed is because we’re trying to close the distance and keep them from getting a good aim.”

“Why not go to hyperspace,” Bartleby asked. “Never mind,” she added, seeing the gaseous anomaly field they were passing through.

“Soon as we’re through,” Postain commanded, “go to velocity one.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” she replied. “Laying in the course now.” And, she added mentally, wishing she’d had time for food.


“What hit the ship,” Leftenant Kohlich asked hesitantly as they got back to the white Raitchian’s medical bay, resting more than he’d planned on Kelly’s shoulder. His knees had almost gone under the impact but she’d caught him in case he’d hurt himself. She’d said that it was typical, the first time she’d been able to give him a little tour and someone starts shooting at them. He’d commented it was the benefit of being in a warzone, there was always someone around, looking to talk.

“Looks like a missile hit the shields,” Jul said, reading from a screen. “Something with energy equivalent to 200,000 joules, according to this.”

Kohlich took a look at the screen but had to give up. “I don’t read … your language,” he confessed, “And ‘joules’ doesn’t seem… to translate, except as pretty things for wearing... around the neck.”

“You’re speaking better,” Kelly observed. “Must be the adrenaline rush?”

“Being shot… tends to focus the mind,” he admitted, giving her a toothy look.

“It means we don’t want to get hit by too many of them,” Martin quantified, not having been interested in the flirty subtext. Starting with alarm, he rushed across to one of the Leftenant’s friends and pulled them away from a console before it fizzed and popped . Kohlich grabbed the closest extinguisher and put the small fire out. “It might be… a Jeras 4,” he suggested. “They… always send some energy into the systems.” He looked to Kelly. “We need to… go to engineering,” he stated.

“Why?”

“I can… help boost your shields against… the effect,” he managed as Martin thrust a wheelchair towards them.

“I’ll have to clear that,” the guard in the room stated.


Harmony Appleby couldn’t help but feel the fear around her. It was a little unexpected from a crew who were used to dealing with everything professionally but there was a growing rumour that this thing had been different. A weapon unlike those mines or anything else they’d faced. A weapon that wasn’t there one minute and was the next. Thoughts varied from teleporting torpedoes to weapons with infinite range to that beacon thing the Loper had encountered a couple of years back that could teleport spaceships across half known space in an instant. She sent out the halfway consoling thought that space wasn’t quite as safe as it used to be. Well, it consoled her anyway. It lightened the tension a little so others must have been amused by what they thought was their thought too. This what what she needed to do now, she knew. Calm the situation and then gain information. She needed to be on the bridge but worked on radiating calming thoughts as she went.


The Engineering Chief stepped into the medical bay and Kelly watched Kohlich’s expression change to sheer shock at the sight of the mighty Equinna that towered above him from halfway across the bay. She patted his hand to reassure him as Commander Harra cleared his nostrils with a snort. “I’m not letting any of you lot loose in my command area,” he thundered. “No offence.”

“N...n...none taken,” Kohlich stammered, his verbal problems not caused by lung deficiencies this time. “I… wouldn’t let you near… my engines either.”

“Appreciated. I’m told you can tell us how to defend against that thing?” He indicated the broken medical computer.

“It’s an energy bu...bullet the torpedo fires,” Kohlich remarked, “The… the torpedo hits the shields and, uh, fires… fires a shot of energy direct… directly through. Blows small systems that could… could be vital. You need to… need to run a polarising charge through… through the hull to counteract.”

Harra snorted. “Old school. Polarising the hull plating in addition to the shields. Fair idea. You had experience of these things?”

“The war,” one of the others admitted, “did not start when we were trapped.”

“And didn’t stop, it seems, because we were freed,” Kohlich added. He took a seat in the chair he hadn’t had to use as his strength began to give out. “And we know those torpedoes,” he said unhappily, “because our side used to fire them.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Uh-oh. Being attacked by someone who uses the same torpedos that they use. That doesn't seem good. Anyway great chapter!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Even in an emergency, someone can prank...

FOURTY-SIX

Hadrian was almost too busy to deal with Caldan Ravel at the moment but, to his extraordinary relief and surprise, the Celican author was only there to help him escort and advise people into the nearest safe zone, close to the science deck and Hadrian advised him on where to stand and where to wave and, indeed, who not to wave and divert. “You’re going in when it’s near full,” the Cervidian told him directly. “If there’s fighting, I want you safe, right?”

“If there’s fighting,” Caldan replied, “I’m a Celican. Not quite Hannabelle Jess level but I’m hardly helpless.”

“Then,” Hadrian mooted, “you’ll be added protection for the people inside! No arguments, Caldan!”

“None from me. I’m… perhaps I’d be better in the one at the school? You know, protect the Children?”

“We’ve got two Officers in there and the Deputy head’s ex -forces, they’re safe.” He looked over at the glowing Red panel. “Well, safe as, anyway.”


Keri was keeping out of the conduits. There was no worse place to be when things started exploding than in a tight, metal, area lined with explodable consoles. She looked around her and reasoned that her situation hadn’t actually changed but the scale had improved. She knew the Chief was polarizing the hull for some reason and didn’t want to be disturbed so she headed on to the latest small system that had blown out to patch it up. “Gawd,” she told herself, “ifI haveto repairthis lightfittingonemoretime…” She took her boots off and gripped a wall panel; jumping to grip the next one above that. She reached out and opened the roof panel to get the broken diodes she needed to replace. Normally she’d let one of the taller ones do this. A taller one with a ladder. But they were busy right now and there were people hurrying around underneath her as she gripped the edge of the panel with one hand and used her other to fix the problem whilst her feet kept her gripped to the wall. She could feel people bopping her tail with their heads but focussed on her work. She gently closed the cover, making sure her little fingers weren’t caught as she did so and dropped off the ceiling as soon as it was safe to do so, landing with knees bent. “Andthejudges give theSciuridan competitor fullmarksforthe dismount,” she cheered herself before frowning. “Who’snickedmyboots?”

“Think it was that Celican from sciences,” a Lappinean commented, on their way to their station. “Just saw him with them anyhow...”

Kerri gritted her teeth. “Right,” she threatened, a gleam in her eye. She had things to fix in sciences anyhow. She pushed up her sleeves and raced his way.


“We’ll be there in three minutes, sir,” Bartleby advised the bridge, tapping on her console whilst watching the screen.

“To the second, Bartleby. We’re going too fast for imprecise time.”

“One hundred and thirty-five seconds, sir,” she corrected.

Kridd reported that a torpedo had just appeared behind them and continued on its way.

“Maldak,” Postain remarked, “keep hailing them. Tell them that, if they don’t stop firing on us, we’ll return fire. Harris, weapons and shields ready. Bartleby, bring us in on attack pattern Bravo three.”

“The ‘slalom’,” Xarra queried. The move brought the ship around to the starboard side of the opponent and engaged the thrusters on the far side of the ship to ‘spin it around’ whilst it passed the side of the target.”

“Wasn’t planning to stop in front of it, Hilla,” Postain grumbled. “That’s where the torpedoes are.”


The ship slowed as it came around, Maldak having had no reply to her hails. “Are their shields up,” the Captain asked Kridd absently.

“From what I can, err, tell, sir, yes. And their weapons are charged.”

“We let them fire the first… FOURTH shot,” Postain snapped. “Then we open on them.” He watched as the nose turned further towards the side of the ship . They had side mounted weaponry, he could see that from here. In fact he could practically see down the barrels of the side mounted cannons that were tracking the Rodomont and… Firing. Energy lanced from the ship and blashed onto the front shields, shaking the ship as energy battered energy. Kridd reported that, unlike the torpedoes, they weren’t sending a secondary charge through to the hull. Harris fired back, blanking out the main screen as the other ships shields took the main impact.

“One last chance,” Postain stated. “Maldak, General transmission. Let’s see if they’re listening.” The Quokkan nodded that a channel was open. “This is Captain Marius Postain of the United Security Council ship ‘Rodomont’ to unknown vessel. We have no hostile intent but are fully committed to defending ourselves if you keep firing at us. We are taking no side in your war and are responding to the request for help issued by the Star Council two years ago. We mean to accomplish this mission. If you want to stop us? Take your best shot and we’ll take ours. If you want us to assist you then stop your attacks IMMEDIATELY. You can respond either by contacting us or by powering down weapons. Your choice.” He indicated Maldak should cut the line and she complied.


A few seconds later he ordered Harris to cease fire as the other ship had done likewise. “Shields at seventy-seven percent,” Kridd announced.

“We have a communication,” Maldak announced quickly.

“On screen.”


A very military Jestavanian in a uniform that had seen too many days of combat appeared on the screen. <”You recently met with the Ikaerian ship Tibri. Why should we trust you, alien?”>

“You’ve scanned the ship, I suppose,” Postain replied. “You know our capabilities and firepower. I’m pretty sure we can destroy you, Captain. The fact we’re not trying to should tell you how much we believed THEM. I’m barely trusting you and only the fact we aren’t taking sides is holding my hand back. I’m taking it you’re not on the same side as those others. Perhaps you should convince me?”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Nice to see that pulling pranks isn't stopped by something such as an emergency. Though I would say it would have been a good idea to hold off on them until it passed.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Well, her boots aren't essential...
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTY-SEVEN

The Cadan of the Jestavanian ship looked up, his eyes widening slightly on the screen. <”You have a Jestavanian on your bridge. Does she hold rank? Explain yourselves.”>

Postain gestured to her to reply. Tyla stood with her hands behind her back and accidentally threw the medkit she’d been holding into Kridd’s thigh. “I am Doctan Kira Tyla of the Karrinean medical institute,” she announced. “I’m, uh, just here as an envoy to find out what the Council state is. I have no rank and these people were the first ship to stop by our planet in almost two years. They seemed the best solution.”

The Cadan looked down for a moment. <”There are three more of our people to the rear of your ship. Explain THEM.”>

“They were…” Postain shook his head. “I am NOT explaining this to a screen! If you come over to this ship we can explain it to you in person whilst showing you what you obviously need to see!”

<”You expect me to come aboard a potential enemy ship?”>

Postain growled and showed his teeth. “You opened fire on us without warning and you doubt OUR intentions? The fact that we’ve decided not to cut you in half should state that we don’t want you dead, Cadan. Bring security if you like.”

He shook his head. <”In Cadra’s sake.”>

Postain looked to Tyla for a translation. “Uh,” she said, “he said he’ll be along shortly and can’t believe he’s having to trust you.” She smirked and Postain got the idea that she wasn’t translating with one hundred percent truth. It didn’t matter.

“What is your name, by the way?”

<”Cadan Posnar,”> the Jestavanian grumped. <”Of the Quellan. Out.”> The link cut off.

“Posnar,” Tyla mused, putting her hand under her chin. “Why is that name..? Ah, right. Yes.” She turned to look at Postain properly. “In the earliest days of the war, when we still got news, the Star Council put out bulletins. She waved her hand in a discrete circle. “Probably propaganda. But one of the repeated ones was the skills of a Amrak called Posnar who led the Council forces in several encounters.”

“Amrak,” Xarra queried.

“The… uh… Captain of many vessels?”

“Ah,” Xarra replied. “That’s an Admiral to us.”

“Oh. It’s odd so many terms of our ranks start at the same language base as yours. But they tried to promote him to the chair. Uh… a station position? He refused the position and committed an act that got him demoted so he could continue to fight.”

“Sounds a pain in the rear,” Postain grumped, heading out as Bartleby announced the Quellan had launched a shuttle. He slapped his comm. “Yarkin,” he announced, skipping the usual naming protocol. “meet me in Docking bay one. Bring a guard or two. We have ANOTHER Cadan coming aboard. Come on, Tyla.”


A half hour later, the Cadan was stood in the medical bay, ordering the three walking wounded to sit down. “I see no need to be saluted,” he told them. “I can’t imagine what you three have been through.”

Kohlich did his best to stand, although Kelly Cobalt had to support him. “How… how have things… been,” he asked.

“They’ve been better,” he announced. The Captain had decided to bring the Cadan down here first, with Doctan Tyla in attendance, so he could brief them all on things that had happened. “We’re lost some ground on the Ikaerian forces in G5 and G3 but we’ve pushed them back at cost in G1 and G6. G4 is still quite close to call. Their virus is a troublesome thing to overcome.” He growled slightly. “They launch it at planets, regardless of military capabilities. Billions dead…”

“We… want to fight,” the female patient said hoarsely. She was the Command officer that had been trapped with the two engineers, Tyla reasoned. Krillik.

“I wouldn’t mind the help,” Posnar replied.

“I, uh, wouldn’t advise that,” Tyla cut in. “The malnutrition and dehydration have led to a number of health concerns which are being dealt with but they’re long term problems, Cadan.” She nodded. “There’s no chance any of these three could return to anywhere near front line duties in any foreseeable future." She leaned in and whispered. "In fact one may not live beyond the week...”

“That’s your official position, is it,” he asked, knowing the answer.

“I’m not official enough to have a position…” Tyla started, seeing the slight smirk on the Cadan’s face.

“...But I am,” a heavy voice spoke stridently, followed by the rest of Doctor Flakk. He stopped close to the Cadan as the Jestavanian stood his ground and two of the guards blocked his path. “I am Flakk, the Chief Medical Officer on the Rodomont and they are my patients. They go NOWHERE without my approval. And I would doubt the sanity of any Officer who would even THINK of bringing wounded fighters within grappling range of the enemy…”

“Doctor Flakk,” Postain commanded. “That is enough!”

“I am not in much of a position to stop any Jestavanian who wants to fight from joining us, Doctan,” Posnar replied. “It’s not something I look forward to but the number of people we’ve lost to this virus…”

“Is about to change,” Flakk replied, cutting the Cadan off. “I’ve been working on samples and simulations since we found out about this virus. Basing it on what we recovered from your computers and the samples from the ship. I’ve not got the facilities of one of our science ships but access to resources your people didn’t have have given hope that it can be counteracted.”

“How so?”

“Raitchian immunity to viruses is effective against it. We may be able to synthesise a proper counter agent.”

“Or, rather,” Postain remarked, “teach you how to make it. The Council will not get involved in any war but we can assist you in fighting this virus.”

Posnar peered up at him. “That’s a very fine line, Captain,” he warned.

“Isn’t it, though? I was ordered to find out if the Star Council was planning an attack or needed help fighting a virus. I’ve now discovered it’s the second part.”

Posnar shook his head slightly and turned away before looking back. “How much of this did you tell the Tibri?”

“An edited version,” Postain advised. “I didn’t trust them but I still had to consider I could be dealing with the new command structure.”

“If they believed you,” Posnar warned, “you might well be dealing with a new pile of ships.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I always love the work that you put into these chapters you post! Keep it up!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

There are few things rarer than a Wolven diplomat..

FOURTY-EIGHT

“I’d figured something like that,” Postain admitted grimly. “It’s why I had Flakk alter the files he sent. We gave them inaccurate information.”

“But they still know we have it,” Tyla observed. ‘Interesting,’ she thought, ‘when exactly did ‘they’ become ‘we’? Is it just because I’m on the same ship as them?’

“Have people on your ship had the virus?”

“No,” Posnar said sternly. “Where the virus is found the colonies are put into strict quarantine. Only strictly controlled medical and aid teams are allowed in. Otherwise? No contact.”

“That’s a… horribly inefficient way to manage it,” Tyla breathed. “You essentially leave them to die?”

“We leave them, Doctan, so more don’t die.” He looked at her, a face full of hostility. “You imagine I LIKE doing that? My own family’s one one of the affected colonies! It’s a two stage thing. Their colonial government quarantines the infected, we quarantine the rest until we can find a cure.”

“How have you had no luck,” Flakk demanded. “Your academics…”

“Were on the first colony hit,” Posnar finished, turning his gaze on the spectacled Wolf. “Most of the leading science companies are… or were based on a colony called Akadeemya. Yeah, they really named it that. Same goes for the medical university where the biodata of the aliens met was kept. That’s probably why the Ikaerians hit there first, sending it down across the planet.”

“Take out those best places to cure it,” Kelly replied.

“Exactly.” The Cadan sighed. “I won’t demand these three back, Doctor,” he continued, indicating the walking wounded, “although I could. I’ll want my medical Officer to go over the REAL files you’ve got. If what you say is real, it could be the breakthrough we’ve been looking for and that’s more valuable to me than three Officers at their current state of fitness.”

“Right,” Flakk said tightly. “Send the officer over to my lab. They can view the files there.”

Postain looked at the Doctor. “Any more people you want to invite over to my ship, Doctor,” he said, anger tingeing his sharp tone.

“I apologise,” Flakk said, almost clearly not meaning it. “It would be preferable for their medical Officer to view the files here. I’ll go set that up.” The Wolven Officer slipped out.

“Is he often like that,” Posnar queried.

“All too often,” Postain growled.


Ten minutes later, Xarra had control of the Cadan, giving him a tour of the bridge with instructions not to divulge too many secrets so the Captain paced quickly through the ship to the medical bay. He walked straight in to Flakk’s office and shut the door behind him as the medical Officer worked on the report. “Ah, Captain,” he started. “I’m just pulling up the final fi…”

“Shut up!”

Flakk stopped talking as Postain strode back and fore in the small room. “By the saints, you make things hard. I can put up with your attitude on a lot of occasions because you are a great Doctor, possibly the best in the sector but your attitude is getting above and beyond. Most times I can put up with it but what you just did… You embarrassed me, Doctor. You effectively challenged guests on our ship to a fist fight and you did it right in front of my face! You acted aggressively and demeaned us in the eyes of someone who is, apparently, a very senior officer with the ear of the very people we’re trying to contact! What do you say to that, Doctor?” He pointed and let the Doctor see the strength of expression in his eye. “And choose your words carefully.”

“I’ve been in war before,” Flakk said immediately. “Clan wars and colonial. I know how the will to win can dominate Captains… and Cadans beyond what’s best for their people. They risk putting too much at risk for spurious gains. I wanted him to know that was NOT going to happen here. That and this virus problem has me annoyed. I apologise for that coming out.” A dark smile flicked across his face and died. “Why do you think I send Doctor Cobalt to so many of these things? I have no time for pretence. But I should work on tolerance.”

“I don’t want you tolerant, Doctor, I want you to raise it in private with me, NOT straight to our guests! If you have to, state it declaratively without causing a scene. That’s what I want from you, Doctor. Now, are you ready to deal with their incoming medical official?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And without threatening or striking them?”

“Not around the nurses. I hope they send a male one. I need scans of a healthy male to make accurate comparisons.”

“No promises.”


Kohlich sat with Doctor Cobalt on the holographic shore of the channel near Collivach Gorge on Raitche, looking at the open vista around him. “This is… all fake,” he asked.

“Real to a degree,” Kally countered. “But what do you think?”

“I think…” he admitted, “I’m a bit… afraid. It’s so big… So much space.”

Kelly gasped slightly. She’d forgotten how cramped his life must have become over the last two years. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should change the…”

“No!” Kohlich coughed at the strength of his statement. He gestured with his arm, slowly and precisely. “We… need to get… used to this again, K...Kelly. Kistomers of land in a small box? Helps.” He sat back in the recliner chair. “It’s… amazing,” he said, feeling the artificial wind on his fur. “I’ll have to… ask how it’s done.” he closed his eyes.

“Beats me,” Kelly admitted.

“Never,” Kohlich said, opening an eye.

Kelly was about to explain when she saw the small grin on his face. “You’re joking,” she guessed.

“Yes. I was… split just now. With… with the Cadan.” He coughed. “I know… I’m doing better than the… other two. Esp... especially poor... Rakki. Part… Part of me wants to get back in,” he professed. “Defending… my people.” Kelly made him take a sip of the cold protein drink she’d brought with them before he continued. “But there’s… part of me… doesn’t want to leave.”

“I’m sure you’ll…”

“You,” Kohlich finished, having summoned the courage. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She started slightly. Then kissed his. “That I’m happy about, Leftenant,” she admitted, stroking his cheek.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

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I love seeing how everything is coming along! Wonderful work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

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FOURTY-NINE

“Do we trust him,” Xarra asked, whilst sitting on the bridge. In front of them sat Posnar’s ship, still just hanging there as the ships Doctan visited Flakk, taking the biological date of the three patients for records checking and even taking a few samples of the Raitchian blood type along with a few others for reference. Flakk had asked for volunteers to donate and made sure that Nurse Prendegast had volunteered to supply fluids for the Micans. He still held the fighting club incident against him, it seemed.

Thinking on that, Postain made his decision. “More than we trusted the other one but not totally. We run into both sides so quickly after so long hearing nothing from either? And the one we run into from the ‘good’ side – if there is such a thing – happens to be a big hero and nothing we can corroborate? It’s not just Celery that needs a pinch of salt, Xarra. As soon as that Doctan is off the ship we’ll go to blue alert and we remain there for the foreseeable. In they’re leading us into a trap, I want us fully ready to break out of it. Got that?”

Xarra nodded curtly. It was all she needed to say.


“It would seem,” the Doctan remarked, looking up at the screens Flakk had decided to use, “that you are as good as you claim.”

“I’m not one for boasting,” Flakk replied, wondering what might happen if he stuffed this insolent twit into a sharps bin. “I just state what is.”

“Those who do not boast are often at risk because of those who do,” the Doctan sighed. “A quote from Salvire. One of our better speech writers.”

“I don’t care,” Flakk told him. “Is this information you can use or not?”

“Offhand… Yes. There may be a possibility of synthesising something from the Raitchian blood group tests you’ve run. Of course, we’d need to test a real sample on a real viral victim.”

“You’d be risking exposure to the virus yourself.”

“It’s what good medical officers do.”

Flakk found himself beginning to reappraise the Doctan. Not a twit but a brave person. Possibly worthy of respect. “Only an idiot would risk it when there’s new options,” he growled.

Now the Doctan frowned and looked over to him as though judging his words. “What ‘new options’,” he queried. “I mean, we have this work but someone still needs to apply it and…” He sighed as the penny finally dropped. “You mean yourself, right?” He nodded, a sign Flakk was getting used to. A sign of disagreement. “I’m not too sure that would be the best idea, Doctan Flakk. I understand you’re trying to keep your ship neutral in the war? It could be taken as a shift to a pro Star Council position.”

“We’re here to help you with this thing,” Flakk stated, waving a hand up towards the monitor. “I have no problem staying within those parameters. As far as I’m concerned this thing is manufactured so we can only be completely safe if it’s totally eliminated.”

Corncob coughed in his bed and the Doctan sauntered over to him as Flakk got the Mican something to drink. “What happened to this one?”

“Minor fatal incident in the ducts,” was all Flakk said.

“How can you have a ‘minor fatal’ accident?”

“I wasn’t the one who died,” Corncob coughed.


“Are we standing down,” Caldan asked Hadrian, as he noticed no-one was coming to attack them after all this time. He’d gone to the safe room nearest to them, only to find it already locked and had decided the best place to be was close to the Cervidian guard, even if he wouldn’t let him have a weapon. He was coming close to a decision on his main character or, as he was beginning to think, main pair of characters. The idea of someone like a Cervidian acting against character and standing security was a truly inspiring one that would help to sell his work to the herbivore races (more than any stupid book signing tour) but there would need to be a hunter as the partner, just to even things out and keep his sales up on the other worlds. It might even lead to a vid series or, dare he hope, a film!

“You were never asked to stand to,” Hadrian countered, passing over a food bar to his unexpected companion. “I stay on duty until Chief Yarkin or Commander Xarra tells me not to.”

Caldan took a bite from the bar and forced himself not to gag at the taste of ‘Forest meadow’ confectionery. “Wouldn’t… gak… wouldn’t the Captain tell the ship?”

“Nope,” Hadrian replied, trying not to laugh at the expected reaction and failing. “Sorry,” he offered. “Front-line humour. Plus you should experience the taste of grasses, eh? Even candied. But no, the Captain wouldn’t tell us directly. That’s not his job. A military ship gets things relayed from the Captain via the Executive Officer. The, uh, First Officer. For security, things come through Yarkin but, if yellow alert ends without going to red? It’s the same as stand down.” He smirked again. Time to really confuse the Author. “And it’s usually the Captain ends ‘yellow alert’ with an order.”

“Ri-ight,” Caldan said. “This Military etiquette thing gets very confusing, you know?”

“Ah,” Hadrian replied, clapping Caldan on the shoulder, “merely lines on a page, my friend. Just lines.”

“I think I’ll make you a doe for that joke,” the author replied, handing him back his confectionery. Confectionery that seemed to be furring up his tongue. “I’ve bitten that, you know,” he asked as Hadrian took a chunk.

“I saw,” the Cervidian replied before chewing. “So? I’m not a Lappinean and even they won’t die from a bit of Carnivore saliva. I’m here until relived, I’m hungry and, gag aside, this is all I have on me to eat.”

“Right,” Caldan said, before nipping off to the nearest machine.


“Seems like this Cadan believes us,” Postain remarked tightly as Maldak sent through a transmission some three minutes after the Doctan returned to his ship. “We’re being asked to go with them and he’ll take us to the Council. Bartleby,” he intoned, “I’m sending you the details.”

“I’ve got them, sir,” the Lappinean said pleasantly. “Laying them in now.”

“Stand to blue alert,” he remarked to Xarra. The wall strip changed to the ‘be alert’ standing. Less severe than yellow but still on the scale. “Keep weapons ready for use,” he added.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This was such a good chapter! Keep up the good work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

I figured this was a good point to actually get where they were going.

FIFTY

Kerri looked over Darren’s arm as the Celican scientist ran through the computer analysis of the alien ship’s power systems. It looked to her like some sort of charged neutrino drive with a mass reduction system helping out. It seemed quite efficient in its’ simplicity but hinted at the ship being a few years older than the space station they’d been to a week or so earlier. They seemed to have a different sort of photonic power systems, based on what she’d seen. She’d listened intently to Darrens’ tales of going over there and his bravery and Maldak’s silliness on the wall and she didn’t believe half of it but he told it well. She slipped under his arm and hopped up to sit on his lap as he continued to work on the computer.

“You make it very difficult to concentrate, you know,” Darren said, before kissing the back of her head.”

“I fullyintend to,” she replied. “Thisisrevengeformyboots!” She crossed her legs, exposing the fact that she’d got the pilfered items back on a few hours back.

“How would I explain you to Lieutenant Tavin,” he asked desperately.

“Closeconsult withEngineering,” Kerri offered happily, pushing back into his chest and putting her head under his chin. Despite himself, Darren moved one hand from the computer and held her gently as he pushed his seat forward slightly. “I wonderwhere we’re going,” she asked.

“Well, uh,” he replied, “I thought we were going to wait until, um…”

She laughed brightly. “Imeantthe ship, younit!” She turned around on his lap and distracted him with a kiss. Then she shifted back, putting her tail in a more comfortable position.

“Well, the alien’s making it hard,” Darren told her, switching programs so they could see an image of the Rodomont in space. “Three course corrections in the last hour. Almost like they don’t want us to know where we’re going.”

“Well,they areatwar, Darren. We’dtakesimilar precautions.”

“Suppose so,”

She grinned, knowing he couldn’t see her face as she thought of an evil tease. “So, anythoughtsonChildren,” she asked, enjoying the sudden coughing fit.


“About our you turned up,” Postain remarked tightly from his chair, looking up at his latest visitor in his office. “What did you think of our latest guest?”

Unbidden, Harmony Appleby took a seat before replying. “Well, I had to get my thoughts in order,” she told him glibly. “Plus there’s a certain amount of headache material about trying to decode alien thoughts when you’re not used to the language. Especially if you’re doing it at a distance. But I picked up several readings. The guy’s desperate for an end to the war – provided his side wins. He’s adamant that the other side deserve defeat and abject humiliation and everything that’s coming to them. He wouldn’t ever say it but he sees our arrival as hope. That was like a little flicker of flame in the ashes. My analogy, not his. He doesn’t trust us entirely but, in a war two years old, he’s been looking for hope for a while.” She gestured genially. “He’s like you in the repressing of emotions.”

“My emotions are open,” Postain replied. “Like a wound.”

“Only to those who know you,” Appleby remarked. “But I don’t see you having any pictures of Chichester around, even in the times I’ve been in your cabin.”

“There’s one under the pillow,” he remarked idly. “Not that I tell anyone.”

“Exactly. There’s no sign to most people. Especially if you’ve just met them. This Captain type’s on the level – or believes he is anyhow.”

Postain put a hand to his chin. “If we ever get to meet the Council, I want you there.”

“Not a great idea,” Appleby sighed, tapping her badge of telepathic office. “When Admiral Reynolds stood before them during the war, he had an Erminean telepath with him. They may mistake me for her. They may also know the badge I’m legally obliged to wear when on official duty.”

“Yes…” Postain looked up at her and wondered why there were so many Erminean telepaths.

“Anecdotally,” she replied, despite him not having physically asked, “it’s something to do with our minds being as lithe as our bodies. Scientifically, it’s a gene abnormality. Every race has it to some degree. We just have more of it. Odd that it’s rare in crossbreeds. Even when two telepaths married – a Raitchian and a Canine – only one of their three kits had the abnormality. Anyhow, how long do you think it’ll be before we get where we’re off to, sir?”

“So glad you remembered to call me ‘sir’ there, Appleby. Just because you’re a civilian, doesn’t mean I can’t put you in the brig.” A tight curl of the lip to indicate he wasn’t quite being totally serious. “Bartleby’s just done a fourth course correction. Cartography now thinks we’re getting close.”

“How so?”

“Radiation indicates weapons platforms. Cartography and long range scanners are picking up a fair few of them. Also about six ships – although the number keeps changing. We’re heading towards a VERY secure locale.”

“Oh, good. Hopefully we won’t need to break out.”

“Exactly what I’m thinking,” the Captain mused. And Appleby knew he wasn’t lying about that.


The hours passed. The night shift took over from the day shift and the morning came around again to put the morning crew on station when the ships finally started to come ‘into port’ in a system of six planets. The bridge crew watched cautiously as automated systems scanned them and kept electronic eyes on them as they passed. Three warships stood to either side as they followed their guide towards the third planet in the system, a white and yellow orb with tinges of blue. The ship settled into orbit and received co-ordinates for a landing. Postain took his team of Yarkin, Maldak, Jul and Kerrison as they were the most harmless and innocent looking representatives of the medical and engineering staff and he’d need Maldak for any communications problem. On the way to the shuttle bay, he picked up Tyla and wondered why he smelled Celican on her. He didn’t ask. He guessed but he didn’t ask.


The shuttle came down exactly on co-ordinates and parked next to a ship from the Star Council vessel. Posnar greeted them with a bow and a double hand gesture that Tyla stated was indicative of exposing yourself whilst showing you were weapon free. She showed Postain how to reply and he did so with only a minor error in hand positioning. Posnar, not being insulted, led the group into a dark chamber in the centre of the building. The doors behind them closed and Yarkin realised they were looking upon a group of holograms, with only one real person in the circles surrounding them.

“Captain Postain,” Posnar said, not bothering to introduce the others. “Doctan Tyla of Karrin…” He gestured to the holograms. “The Star Council.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Can't wait to meet the Counsel and see them interact! Maybe Postain might know a few since he did date a counselor briefly. ;)
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FIFTY-ONE

The Captain looked around at the auditorium and kept his thoughts to himself. There were many things he’d expected of the meeting but a room full of holograms wasn’t exactly the first thing that had come to mind. It was a shade different to his meeting on the colony. He laughed internally. A shade different was about right. Apart from Posnar and Tyla, there was only one real Jestavanian in the chamber so the Captain kept his eyes on that one. The others were only present as beams of light from rotating spotlights in the ceiling that enabled their images to move, at least somewhat, around the room. He figured that he should head towards the dais in the middle of the room. It was the place with the microphone, after all. He’d only gotten part way there when the real councillor moved to greet him. Postain looked at the older Jestavanian and noted the sag faced expression of tiredness and reluctance that spoke of decades of experience, even before the official raised a hand for the Captain to take.

“Once more, we accept the presence of the Unified Security Council at a time of distress,” he croaked as Postain accepted the gesture of someone who’d obviously dealt with the Fauntleroy delegation “I hope you’re not a Pottak.”

“Jinx,” Tyla said in an aside that was completely obvious to everyone.

“And you are Doctan Tyla of Karrin,” the Councillor said, greeting her in the traditional Jestevanian way, pulling her forward slightly to kiss her cheek before allowing her to do likewise. “I am Councillor Criggan. On behalf of the Council, I welcome you to Fiktan.”

“On behalf of the Unified Security Council, I am please to be here. My only regret is in how long it took us to discover your message.”

“Our only regret is having to send it,” the Councillor replied, turning away slightly. “We’re a proud people, Cadan… Captain. And we took a heavy lesson when the first colonies were devastated. Not to put all our people in one easily strikable place. That’s why the Council never meets in public any more. Only by use of these holograms. I appear as a hologram in their auditoriums, in case you were wondering.” He frowned. “That IS the right word, yes? We, uh, borrowed the technological idea from the Fauntleroy. I’m a little bit gratified you didn’t bring a Raitchian, by the way.” He indicated the Mican, Jul. “Although he’s close. Some of us did quite badly in business when they were last here. We learned from THAT, too.”

“I have many Raitchians on my ship,” Postain conceded. “None of them are in business though.”

“Smart move.” A slight smile. A minor incline of the head. He turned, his wide sleeve billowing slightly away from his mottle furred arm with the movement. “As for you, doctan,” he continued, “it’s gratifying to see someone from Karrin. Contact with your colony had to be cut off as much as possible.”

“W...Why,” Tyla asked. “We’re desperate. Crops lie unsold. We have no supplies and precious few manufacturing bases…”

<“Which is what kept you safe from our opposition,”> one of the holograms said. <”The Ikerian forces would have carried out more intense assaults if you had much infrastructure they wanted. As it was, they simply laid a minefield between us and you.”>

“But why? We had no ships and…”

“It was to stop US, Doctan,” Postain put in.

“Theyknewwewere…” Kerri cut in, before looking at the bewilderment on Posnar’s face. She swallowed and slowed her words. “They knewwe mightbe coming,” she said, “so theylaid a minefield.”

“Then why warn us,” Yarkin asked.

At that, Posnar interjected. “I might know the answer to that. The Cadan you met was Tikran. He’s something of a liar and one of their more capable Officers, despite his youth. But he’s not one of their extreme officers. He may well have considered the threat of mines would make you turn back. He wasn’t out to kill you if he didn’t have to.”

“Considerate of him,” Postain remarked.

“Well, firing on your ship could well have brought your Council into our war,” Craggan mooted. “I don’t think they would have wanted that.”

“I should tell you that I have already notified my sector Command about the situation on Karrin,” Postain remarked. “I believe an Ambassador is already on her way to sort out trade agreements. Some of our more remote colonies would be better off sourcing their basic foods from Karrin than from the core worlds. We’ll help with trade items and medical items.”

<”But not military?”>

“The ships would be capable of defending themselves but the absolute limit would be repairing Karrin’s defence systems,” Postain explained.

<”Explain to us these medical files,”> another ordered. Postain stepped back and let Jul and Tyla take the point, explaining what the ship had done and how they’d found it and what could well work and everything else connected to the contagion. It was mostly over his head and he was thankful that Flakk had given him a synopsis on the problem before he’d come down. He was really threading the needle now, in the actions he was about to initiate…

<”Thank you, Doctans,”> a third hologram said. <”We accept your evidence points directions that may aid a cure but what we really need is something that can destroy the complex where the contagion is being manufactured. Destroy that and we might have a chance to...”>

“We can help you with that,” Postain interrupted.


He smirked slightly at the absolute silence the statement had gotten. He fancied that they’d figured he’d refuse to get involved. That he’d keep the Council out of it. But he had a minor area of wriggle room here. My orders were to come to Star Council space and speak to the Star Council to discover if you needed assistance, wished to open trade negotiations or if you were offering a threat. My Chief Medical Officer has examined this virus carefully. He has determined that it can be reprogrammed to target other races. After time, that could include many Council worlds. That means the virus is DEFINITELY an active threat and must be dealt with. If we can help with that, we will.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I really did enjoy this chapter! I think we need more with the Star Council please!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FIFTY-TWO

The group was escorted into a small ante chamber to one side of the auditorium as the Council deigned to discuss the details of the meeting and Postain stayed silent until the door closed behind the Rodomont staff (and Tyla) and Yarkin had Kerri check for listening devices as the rest took seats.

“What..,” Tyla started before Postain held up a hand to stop her. He moved the hand towards his mouth and put a finger to his lips.

“War time policies, I think, Doctor,” he told her, covering up for her talking. “I know I’d prefer to have met the whole group too, rather than light projections.” Yarkin helf Kerri up so she could scan the top half of the walls. “But we make do with what we get.”

“Nothing we can find,” Yarkin said, letting the Chipmunk down after they’d checked everywhere they could get to. “So you might as well tell us what’s going on.”

Postain indicated Jul and the Mican took the hint. “Anything artificially manufactured,” he started, “can be re-manufactured to suit any need. Doctor Flakk’s examined this thing quite intimately and thinks that, given sufficient time and access to our genomes, this thing can be made to target any species.” he shrugged. “They just haven’t needed to until now. Awkwardly, our mere presence in the area may well tip that factor. It’s why he tainted the evidence we gave them. Problem is they’ll see through that if they put their scientists onto it or if they kept records from the previous interaction with Raitchians. We didn’t feel we could let them have it.”

“Because they’d re-engineer it to avoid that weakness for one thing,” Postain muttered.

“Indeed. But I wasn’t aware we’d discovered it could be adapted to other races…”

“Nothing proven,” Postain remarked, “but Flakk’s not given to deception and he mentioned the chance. As it is, I’m sure the other side aren’t going to let us out of the war zone easily anyhow. So we might as well deal with the virus itself and the base they’re creating it on. I have thoughts on how we go about that but I want to keep those to myself for the moment.”

“Whyso,sir,” Kerri asked quickly.

“In case there’s anything you couldn’t find, Kerrison,”

Tyla looked around. “It’s a pity they didn’t think to put some comestibles in here with us. After all, their debates can go on several hours, according to record.”

“Wecouldalways use thatold replicationsystem,” Kerri mentioned, gesturing to a small alcove in the corner.

“Haven’t seen this model in an age,” Martin said, examining the old piece of equipment. “They must have gotten it from the Fauntleroy.”

“Or the Raitchians,” Yarkin warned. “It’s out of order anyhow.”

“Icanfixit,” Kerri gabbled, zipping over to get to work. “AfterImake sureit’s safe,ofcourse.” She started examining the object.


Xarra sat on the bridge, watching the never changing planet below and drumming her fingers on the armrest. Things were going as planned and, frankly, that was beginning to concern the Mican. They’d flitted from problem to problem on this little tour and they’d barely had time to draw breath until today. The Captain had told her of his plan before going down and that hadn’t exactly eased her concerns for everything. Then there was the request she’d received a mere half an hour after they’d gone down to the planet. A request for asylum from one Lieutenant Kohlich – or, as he pronounced it, Leftenant. She’d have to consider how she brought that to him. There was nothing from the other two so far but she had a feeling at least one of them would never leave. According to Flakk, Mr Krigg wasn’t likely to make it. At least not here. She hoped the Captain would bring up the possibility of transferring him to one of their facilities. They might be able to do more for him. And, she admitted to herself guiltily, there was always something depressing about a ship where someone was slowly dying in public. She was sure the depression was infectious somehow.


On occasions the ships around them shifted and vanished and appeared at random and Bartleby was making notes. She was counting how many of them were actually different. Their ident codes kept marking them out and she reckoned that, of the fourteen ships they’d seen over the last few hours, nine of them were the same ships. It meant the enemy had no clear number, she supposed, but they’d soon get used to that, surely? But it didn’t matter much, she supposed. They weren’t going to be here that long, were they? She’d already programmed in the fastest escape route in case of trouble and was a mere two button pushes from operation ‘get lost’ (as she’d termed it). Of course, that particular operation ran out of steam after a dozen seconds, when they’d cleared the area and, hopefully, not been blown to smithereens by the defence satellites. As soon as they went to hyperspace it was all up in the air. Or not, she told herself. There wasn’t any air up here, just void and stars and… she couldn’t think of a third thing. When was lunch? She could hear Maldak reporting that another ship was coming in. “That’ll be ten,” she muttered.


“So you made a decision,” Kelly asked Kohlich as she pushed him in a wheelchair. They’d decided to go to the shops to buy a few things for him and the others in the bay. Clothes and such. To keep the tailors in business, the replication systems weren’t able to make long lasting clothes without a senior officer code that was always logged the event. So the small stack of shirts and trousers weighed down the Jestavanian’s legs. Kelly had insisted on the chair in case he’d gotten tired so he was just enjoying the scenery as they went.

“Well,” he admitted, “I got a bit of a different… perspective in the last eighteen,” he told her. “I was a proud member of the Council forces once. Ready to fight. Then I got trapped for over a year in a… station they couldn’t be… bothered to destroy. I can’t… go back to fight for them.” He looked back at her and smiled. “And I have a reason to stay, eh?”

“Suppose so. Now you’ll have to convince the Captain of that.” She paused in the pushing, conveniently close to a table in a rest area. She dialled up two sodas – one of which was on Tyla’s ‘approved’ list and took them over to him. “You seem to be more at ease with us than the others,” she told him, putting the straw in his drink for him.

“Heh,” he said, taking a sip of the pale purple soda whilst she sat. “It’s true. Like I said, Mother did business with Raitchians. Lost a fair amount of money,” he finished.

“Sorry,” Kelly told him.

“Some were bad,” he conceded. “Not all, though. A few were good people. One protected us from the worst. Convinced her to pull out… of deals. Made me see… people were people. Plus,” he finished, “I happened to meet a beautiful… charming and loving… one called Kelly when… when I needed to.” With a hand, he reached up and stroked her jawline. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he told the room, empty aside from themselves.

“I agree,” Kelly replied jokingly, before gently kissing him.


“They’ve made a decision,” Posnar said, opening the door to the others.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I am really digging everything even much more now! Impeccable!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Everyone gets what they want? When does THAT ever happen?

FIFTY-THREE

Posnar led the team through the building again. Not, this time, to the auditorium but to a reception room where the sole physical councillor was ready to receive them. He gestured that they should sit around the table and offered them the sandwiches and small cakes that sat on the table. “It’s hardly an acceptable level of greeting, I know,” told them as he sat in the facing chair, “but we are at war.”

“It is acceptable,” Postain replied, carefully taking two sandwiches and a cake after Jul ran a scanner over them to make sure they were safe to eat.

“I’d be insulted, Doctan,” Criggan smiled, “but I understand the concern with new foods and waters. I am sure Mk Tyla has done much the same on your ship?”

“I’m running out of toxin strips with so many choices,” she admitted before grimacing. “Oh, sorry.”

He waved it aside. “Think nothing of it. We used to use a replication system here until it packed up a month or so ago. A lack of specialists meant we couldn’t repair it.”

Kerri huffed. “Nowweknow whywewere putin THATroom,” she complained. “SoIcould repair it?”

“Well,” Criggan confessed, “it did seem like an idea. But on to the main event.” He sighed as he looked up at the Captain. “The Star Council is not willing to risk your ship in direct conflict with our enemies, Captain. If I were to put things directly, it is not your fight. Where we will accept your assistance, however, is in the development of a cure for the biogenetic weapon designed by them. And, if possible, some tactical assistance?”

“I’m not sure that I can authorise that,” Postain remarked carefully.

“There would be benefits for yourselves, of course. I understand you’ve recently had some problems with your hardware?”

Postain stared at Kerri, who shrugged. “Ididn’ttellhim,” she protested.

“I could guess,” Posnar admitted. “All those engineers running around when I was on your ship? It wasn’t hard to guess.”
Yarkin put her muzzle behind her steepled fingers and risked poking her nose with the shucked out clawtips. “What exactly are you offering?”
“It wasn’t just food replication systems we copied off the Fauntleroy,” Criggan admitted.

At that, Kerri’s face fell into a surprised gape as the implications came to her. The Fauntleroy had been an explorer class ship. The same as the Bellaphron, which had become a useful tool in the repair scene in the patch due to… “You’ve gotan industrialscale replicationsystem, don’tyou,” she squeaked excitedly.

“Pardon,” Criggan asked.

“She’s asking if you have an industrial replication mill,” Jul asked, nibbling a sandwich.


Kerri looked up at the mighty machine as it lay, silent, in the mechanic bay of the base. It was silent right now, unused, and unloved. They’d equipped Explorer class ships with these massive things as they were designed to carry entire colonies – small ones anyhow – and travel on their own for years at a time. With little access to star bases and repair depots, the systems could take any sort of material and process it into needed things. From asteroids to armour plating. These things could even create small space vessels – in kit form – if needed. And the parts were designed to last decades. “Whyaren’tyou usingthis,” she asked the Councillor as he stood with the group.

“The parts last decades,” the Councillor admitted. “We don’t make them and never could figure out the intricacies of making the smaller parts. It also wasn’t economic to do it, Mk Kerrison. So, when the parts started breaking down…”

“Youcouldn’t repairit. Sillytobe relianton techyou can’t work.” She put a hand to her mouth. “DidI saythatout loud?”

“Yes,” Postain told her. “Do you have the schematics for this,” he asked.

“Of course.”

“And you know what’s wrong?”

“We have a fair idea.”

“Kerrison…” he started.

“Oh,” she interrupted, guessing what he was going to ask and saving time, “quiteprobably butit’d taketime. ActingChiefHarra spent a fewmonths on the ‘OldLady’ last year sohe’dprobably be a betterchoice…”

“Then call him, We need replacement parts badly.” He glared at Criggan. “We repair it and we get our parts first.”

“We have several paltas of Ore we can’t process,” the Councillor said. “It seems a fair deal.”

Postain looked to Tyla for a translation. She didn’t notice at first, then started as she recognised his look. “Oh, um… Paltas. It translates as…” she thought for the right word but it didn’t come. “Lots,” she finished apologetically. “And then can we discuss the Karrin situation,” she added.

“Of course,” Criggan granted. “I imagine there’s a number of things this can make when it’s working properly. Medical packs and the like? Getting it working is a boost to all, after all.”

“Fiddledagain,” Kerri grumbled. “It’ll take days,” she added.

“Time enough for Flakk to work with the scientists,” Yarkin asked.

“I suppose,” Postain griped. “It’s annoying that we need this but that’s the deal.”


“Did you know they’d turn you down, sir,” Yarkin asked as the pair sat alone on a bench, watching Harra and Whilmot as they looked over the machine. “Fair had my heart in my mouth when you said that.”

Postain half humphed. “I had a feeling that they would. One ship isn’t going to turn the tide of this war of theirs, Ellan, and they know that. What I figure they actually need is knowledge and they struck the bargain. You think the files didn’t tell me what the Fauntleroy gave them?” Another tight grin. “I just wish it had been in working condition. We need those parts as soon as we can get them.” He mused. “The Ikearian forces aren’t going to forget we’re here, Ellan. And they’re going to strike at some point. We have to be ready.”

“Maybe we should have turned around earlier?”

He glanced at her. “Not when the mission was unfinished.” A sigh. “Just a pity we had to dig in so far to find out there’s no threat. Because now there might well be. And we brought it about.”
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Amazee Dayzee
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Hey I got what I want which is a character paired with Hawle and Hawle ending up in sticky situations. I guess I am also an outlier. XD Wonderful writing!
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Harry Johnathan
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Harry Johnathan »

I don't know what Posnar is talking about, sandwiches are scientifically proven to be the best food you could possibly eat when you're under attack.
Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

That, of course, is true. But a good host apologises for their perceived shortcomings before a guest points them out.

FIFTY-FOUR

Caldan looked down the passageway as Tyla wandered up, accompanied by a couple of her own people carrying supplies and made notes as he followed them. He wondered what they were up to (even though he really knew) and was making notes on following people for his story. He wanted the feeling of danger that came from knowing your quarry could easily turn and discover you at any point. He put himself flat into a doorway a fraction before one of the locals turned around and stayed there for a few seconds before peeking out.

“Excuse me,” said a voice. Caldan looked down. Enzo Carvalho stood there, a smile on his lips and his hands behind his back. He pushed himself up onto his toes as he spoke again. “Whatcha doin’” the little Raitchian asked.

“Practising my tracking,” Caldan replied. “I’m following the Doctan but I don’t want her to know I’m doing it.” He started off after the trio again.

Enzo frowned and trotted to keep up. “According to Martin, that’s stalking,” he said. “Unless you’re a guard or think they’re going to do bad things you shouldn’t really be doing it. Besides,” he asked sweetly, “aren’t all Celicans supposed to be great at stalking?”

“Yes,” Caldan replied, getting a little irritated, “but we all practice to keep ourselves at a high level. Haven’t you got school?”

Enzo looked aggrieved. “It’s a weekend evening!”

“Homework, then?”

Enzo shook his head. “Nope. Mom’s on duty and Uncle Martin’s down on the planet. So I’m wandering.” he hopped over the bulkhead door ad they passed through it into the stock room.

“You could wander somewhere else,” Caldan challenged.

“But I’m helping you,” Enzo complained. “They’re not going to think you’re following them if you’re talking to someone, are they?”

Caldan had to admit he might have a point.


“O.K.,” Tyla said casually, “they’ve let us have this small stockroom so let’s make the most of it. Um, put the defibrillation systems on that shelf there, will you?” She pointed where she wanted the fifteen devices they’d brought on the hover trolley.

“Right, Doctan,” the Jestavanian said, hefting one of the devices. “You realise someone’s following us, of course?”

She shook her head. “Yes. Caldan’s the Orange one. Enzo’s the Child. Two friends I’ve made here. I don’t know what they’re up to but we can let them play.”

“Only if they don’t get in the way,” the other told her. “We’ve only got a day now that thing’s just about working again.” He lifted the first up as his compatriot reached out to take one. Tyla made sure they were set up correctly.

“Model’s a bit old but we can’t be choosers,” she admitted as the officer started strapping the cargo down securely.


“How’s the resupply going,” Hadrian asked Xarra as the first Officer took a break in the recreation room.

“It’s going decently,” she said, smacking the button on the left of the console to activate a flipper and send the steel ball back up into the bumpers. “We’re… picking up supplies and diplomatic treaties. Flakk’s working with their best medics on the virus cure possibilities and Engineering’s helping them to help us. Ach,” she complained as she missed the final ball and the game ended. “Fifteen thousand. Must be distracted.” She turned away from the machine. “You keeping guards on the Jestavanians in the medical bay?”

“Absolutely,” Jak affirmed. “Both to keep them contained and to stop people trying to extradite them. You really think that could happen?”

Xarra shrugged as she found a slice of cake she quite liked the look of. It had her thinking of something she’d seen go viral on Galnet a year or so back. Some ‘pixelated’ officers and a cake… She knew who they were, of course, and why the Captain had an unpixelated freeze frame of the image stored on a digital photo frame in his quarters. He usually had it set to a picture of the ship but she’d seen the other at least twice. “We’re surrounded by them, Hadrian,” she told him as she headed over to the quiz machine. “We have a truce for now. But we can’t be sure they won’t try to kidnap them. As two have requested asylum, we’re bound to protect them until higher powers judge. We’d do it for anyone so we’ve got to do it for them.”

“I hear that,” Hadrian replied. “I mean, I like these people. I’m not exactly happy to think of them going back to war.”

<”Doctor Cobalt to Commander Xarra,”> the Commander’s comm relayed. Xarra grimaced. There didn’t seem to be any sort of joy in Kelly’s voice right now. <”Can you come down to the medical bay?”>

“On my way, Doctor,” Xarra said, standing up. “Coming with, deputy Chief,” she asked of Hadrian.

<”Coming with,”> Kelly asked, <”I’m already here.”>

“Not you, Doctor. I’ll be there now.” She closed the link as Hadrian agreed to accompany her.


The situation was plain from when she entered. Kohlich was kneeling, as was Palla. Kelly, for her part, was moving around the third Jestavanian, running tests as he lay still in the bed. “Didn’t see Tyla on the way, did you,” she asked as they came in.

“I’ll have someone get her,” Hadrian replied, guessing they were entering the final minutes of life. The lines on the screen were beginning to spike less and flatten. The Jestavanian’s breathing was getting shallow, it seemed. They’d known this was coming but it didn’t make experiencing the fact any easier. He felt lucky that he could turn his back to make the call. He heard Kelly arrange the latest in a series of injections that she knew wouldn’t do any good. He wondered why she did it but supposed she knew best.


As Hadrian finished the call, Kohlich stood up shakily, accepting a hand from Xarra to do so. “It’s done,” he told Kelly softly. “The entreaties are in place, Kelly.” He sighed. “We can let him go now.” He laid a hand on his companion’s forehead. “Step ahead of us, Rakki,” he stated as Palla forced herself up. “Light the fires to guide us when it is our times.” He leaned forward and kissed his compatriot on the forehead. “I will miss you. Until we meet again.” He stepped back as Palla repeated his actions and Tyla swept in, complete with a security officer.

“Ah,” the Doctan said sadly. She sighed and carried out a religious symbol on herself before carrying out what she later termed the lay prayer for those who passed before you got there. She looked to Kelly. “I’ll handle the next part, Doctor,” she said with precious little humour. “I’m less likely to make an error in ceremony.”

“I’ll, um, go write the report,” Kelly agreed, moving to the office.

Xarra watched Kohlich follow and put a hand on her shoulder as she started writing.
Commander Hawle. U.S.C. Loper. By the talented DDeer.
Kilo - 2-8-3-9-10-2-5
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

That would be best so that you can get the report out of the way. Impeccable chapter!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Sooner or later, things go wrong. Why is it usually sooner?

FIFTY-FIVE


Xarra put in a bow as the casket moved into the Jestavanian shuttle, under escort from four of their own soldiers and two guards from Yarkin’s group as Lieutenant Kohlich and Doctor Cobalt gave audience in the bay next to the medical station. He’d put himself into some of the new clothing he’d bought and they’d enabled a camera so Palla could see from where she was sitting with a nurse on the sofa in Jul’s bay. “I’m sorry to have to return your officer in this way,” Xarra told the Cadan receiving.

“I’m just happy you thought to return him,” the officer said, glancing at Kohlich.

“It seemed appropriate,” Xarra said contritely. “You’re more knowledgable about your burial rites than we are. He can be returned to his family.”

“Yes,” the Cadan replied caustically, “strange that you have two others you AREN’T returning to their families.”

Xarra rolled her eyes. She’d been expecting something like this. “They’ve requested asylum,” she advised. “We have to travel by our rules and we have no reason to deny them until sector command rules.”

“We could still take them,” he warned.

“And we could still fight to prevent a kidnapping,” Xarra responded.

“You’d lose, Cominna,” he countered, refusing to give an inch.

“Maybe so,” Xarra replied, looking a little bored, “but we’d do a fair amount of damage first. You’re already in a war, Cadan, do you want to start another over two Officers who’ll never be able to serve in combat again?”

“Higher ups will decide,” the Officer snapped. “As for now…” He sagged slightly and Xarra saw the pressures of combat and deaths insurmountable in his eyes and chipped teeth as he spoke again. “...you may keep the useless warriors.”

“Gladly.” She made to turn away but stopped herself. “Doctan Tyla brought files on Jestavanian dentistry that have been uploaded to our holo-dentist. If you’d like him to repair some of those teeth..?”

“Not now, Cominna,” the Cadan stated sharply before lessening his tone. “But I might take you up on that later?”

Xarra shrugged. “Whilst we’re here, it’s available.”

He bowed in gratitude before following the casket into the shuttle.


Xarra stalked out of the bay with the others before the shuttle took off and watched it from the anteroom before exiting into the passageway where Tyla was waiting. “They’ve gone, Doctan,” Xarra said redundantly.

“Figured that,” she replied. “I’m not a total fan of the military, you know. No offence.”

Xarra snorted a laugh. “None taken. We’re more Police than Military most of the time.”

“Despite all the guns and assault weapons, Cominna,” Tyla grinned.

“I’m taking it that’s the Jestavanian word for Commander. Either that or someone’s really got my first name wrong.”

“It’s the former.” Tyla straightened up. “I’ve uploaded the autopsy report into your computers,” she added. “Not that it’ll contain many surprises. Organ damage from eighteen months starvation, dehydration and isolation is pretty common around the universe, I imagine.”

Xarra mused. “There’s a few exceptions,” she explained, “like the Dromans. Never seen a dehydrated one of those.”

“Your Doctans have so much more to learn than I ever did.” She shook her head.

“Yeah, I agree.”

“What? Oh, uh, no. I was showing a little disbelief. I get the confusion though.” Her eye flicked to the left and Xarra thought she saw the black tip of a Celican ear poking out around the nearest corner. “Don’t spoil his fun,” she asked, very quietly.


“Are we going to do this all day,” Enzo asked from behind the Celican Author.

“Nope,” he whispered. “We didn’t follow her to the medical bay, did we?”

“She’d have seen. Plus Martin always says the medical bay is private.”

“And your stomach was rumbling.” He hid around the corner as Xarra and Tyla walked past, on their way to the main medical unit and the bridge, pushing Enzo back behind him. He still wasn’t quite sure how the boy had gotten him to buy a quite substantial lunch for him and figured that his mother and Doctor Jul would have baulked at the total lack of nutritional value in the repast. He’d thought about joking about needing a new advance on his novel but hadn’t as the boy probably wouldn’t have got it. He’d picked up a few tips on Raitchian business practices from the kit so it hadn’t been totally worthless. But now, he thought, it was time to cut the boy loose as Doctor Jul was heading down the way. “Don’t tell your father in waiting what you’ve been up to, yeah?”

Enzo grinned. “What’s in it for me?”


Bartleby twitched her hand slightly and it worried her. She’d noticed that the hand sometimes twitched a moment or so before things started happening and she wondered how to call the Commander to the bridge on account of a hand twitch. She had a feeling she’d end up on the carpet for something so silly and might even end up spread eagled with her mouth open on the Captain’s floor if HE ever found out. But… there was still something. It was like there was something she wasn’t seeing that… She checked the scanners again. “Ok,” she told herself, as the senior officer on the bridge,” Maldak, have there been any communications sent to the other ships in the last few minutes?”

“Yeah,” the Quokkan responded. “A short one to several of them. Encrypted, of course.”

The Lappinean’s ear drooped in acknowledgement of the reply. “To ten of them,” she guessed.

“That number seems right,” Maldak agreed. “Why?”

“Because that’s the number of ships that just left the area…” She tapped her comm. “Bartleby to Xarra, please report to the bridge.” She closed the line and kept an eye on the monitors. She didn’t feel it would take long, if she was right...
Commander Hawle. U.S.C. Loper. By the talented DDeer.
Kilo - 2-8-3-9-10-2-5
Kilo
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Because its so much fun when things go wrong sooner! At least when it happens to other people. :mrgreen: ;)
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