Chapter 11: A Space-Pickup Truck and a Dirt Road
Crewman's Log Stardate 62306.85: Cool, I got the date right! I got it right, right?
[Stated date is the current Stardate.]
Neat! Anyway. The Yorkshire is in shockingly good condition, which has left myself, Lieutenant Trillby, and the jumpsuit guys all scratching our heads.
* * * *
I paced the conference room's length. It really was remarkable how both how much this looked like the original cardboard and balsa wood sets, and how ... Normal it all felt. This was essentially a staff meeting room on the space equivalent of a freighter ship. No frills, but what was there was built to hold up.
Trillby looked to me as I fiddled with the controls to the monitor cluster at the center of the table. Easiest way of having everyone see who was on the view screen, have monitors all facing outward from a center point. I suppose now it could be done with holograms, but I found it kinda charming.
"Captain Yakkon. This is the Yorkshire." I tried to sound like this was a matter of routine.
"Go ahead Yorkshire," A man of middling years appeared on the monitor cluster. He somehow managed to make the Accemarian leathers look distinguished. Had a very 'old man of the biker club' look to him.
"As Lieutenant Trillby's designated liaison I am happy to report the Yorkshire appears to be in good working order. We're running some tests before we declare everything good but I wanted to give thanks to whoever on the Accemerian side of the station has been keeping her in Bristol Fashion." Trillby and I were still navigating how this would work. Even with maybe two dozen crewmen on a ship that was old even in Kirk's time, having someone to act as an aid and runner wasn't a bad idea in my estimation. It, at the very least, left me feeling less uncomfortable than if i were the designated commander.
"Bristol Fashion?" Yakkon tilted his head to one side. "Apologies, Is that a starfleet thing, or just a human thing?"
"Bristol was a fairly harsh harbor to keep and so gained a reputation for keeping vessels stationed there in top condition to try staying ahead of any complications." The actual origin of the term was a touch more complex but we didn't have time for the three hour presentation on entomology of old earth naval slang.
"Ah," Yakkon gave a singular nod. "Well. This does give us a fair amount of buffer time to work with since we had thought a minimum of a week would be needed."
Buffer time. I gave a small fond smile at the term. "Well, this is supposed to be an easy cruise back to Accemar to pick up trade goods and fly colors right?"
The smile faded from the man, "It's a touch more complicated once you get into local politics, but if you're worried about any incidents? We haven't had any major factional disputes in eighteen years."
"Good," I considered what little i remembered from Picard's visit, negotiations, dustups, and two leaders sharing whiskey together while they tried hashing things out. "As I probably will be in the landing party as part of the federation presence for this event if you could have someone send over a write-up so i don't accidentally spark off a diplomatic incident or the like? That'd be grand."
It was fortunate Yakkon seemed to find humor there since I was genuinely afraid I'd say the wrong thing to the wrong person and woopsie doodle, back to terrorist raids and piracy. We did Not need that. "Oh don't worry, the federation presence is more a happy inclusion. We've been winding down in-system installations as part of the de-escalation treaty."
"And what do your people get out of it?" There had to have been a more diplomatic way of asking, but that sounded a lot like they give away everything and get nothing.
As response, Yakkon thumped the desk he was sitting behind, presumably in his ready room. "We get to explore the stars, and while it is outdated the Federation has allowed us to keep using Starbase Eighty, the Angle Maw, and truthfully? The ruling council I think wants us to be their extra-solar space exploration arm since most of them are content puttering around in system."
OK, that would be one heck of a carrot to dangle for the sake of cooperation. Then again I'm biased. I grew up on Star Trek, the Space Shuttle, and I treated my senior class trip to Florida mostly as a chance to go to the Kennedy Space Center. For Q's sake when I was four I had posters of the solar system and Edward Barnard on my wall.
My PADD beeped at me, and after a glance in its direction I smiled. "Appreciate the info packet Captain. I will have a draft request for your engineering staff to look through later. It's all a bunch of theoreticals, and a few of the actual officers here are going to need to check my assumptions, but it may help out when we travel through the anomaly."
"Looking forward to it, Angle Maw out." With a nod to presumably the comms officer, the screen winked out. Whether the man was simply humoring a junior officer's enthusiasm or if he had his own reservations about the anomoly was something I could only speculate on.
- - - - - - - - - -
I paced about the empty cargo hold. Truthfully there wasn't much to be done now that everything was under way. Well, there was but at the same time the 'is this plan going to work or cause a resonance cascade that causes everyone's shields to burn out and possibly take other parts of all involved ships offline in the middle of an anomaly spitting out enough tachyons to somehow screw with isoliniar based computing?' part of figuring things out was being done by Gene whoever he was on a subspace call with to check his math.
So, I paced.
One of the jumpsuited guys rapped on a bulkhead to get my attention.
"Hey, incoming transmission for you man." In contrast to my anxiety he looked fairly bored.
That there was a call for me, rather than Trillby caused me to turn to face the man. "Any specifics?"
As he moved to let me pass there was a shrug before giving both the least amount of elaboration possible and also just enough information to make me immediately take notice, "Somebody from the Cerritos."
That got my attention and caused my brisk walk to turn into a full on sprint. I wouldn't be getting calls from them.
Either:
Olly wanted to talk: In which case take the call, because I happened to enjoy her company.
Or
Captain Freeman wanted to relay word from that captain's conference where I was a major topic of discussion: In which case /IMMEDIATELY/ take the call, because dear sweet Lord don't leave that one waiting.
I was fortunate in that the Yorkshire's crew were largely content to hang out in the common area rather than roam the halls. I was unfortunate in that there were only a few places on the ship that could take subspace transmissions; the conference and or staff room, the bridge, and the captain's quarters.
The conference room was open. So I sat down and gave the system my credentials.
After a few moments of staring at the 'incoming transmission' graphic, Captain Freeman showed up on screen.
"Captain Freeman." There was a touch of anxiety to me. I couldn't quite place my finger on why.
"At ease," she glanced momentarily to the hollow pip on my uniform, "Crewman."
The smile was something I immediately noticed. but waited to see what she had to say. This was a business call more likely than not.
"I don't want to get your hopes up, but the conference was," Captain Freeman paused as a series of emotions crossed her face. "It was colorful. Nobody's sure on how to proceed given everything in my report ... After impressing on everyone there that this was a strict need to know matter."
"Makes sense," I could envision that urgency and importance being impressed in several ways. Instead of asking about the how I pressed forward. "So the news is ... no news with shades of optimism?"
"Well I wouldn't say no news. However, even with everything in hand. It isn't as if I can contact Admiral Picard." There was a calmness to what she said. It wasn't resignation so much as a 'sit tight' sort of tone.
"I understand, Captain." I frowned in spite of myself. "Though considering you had wanted a real time link rather than a video message I assume there is more."
"Yes and No," Captain Freeman confirmed. "No, in that I mostly wanted to explain matters face to face as a courtesy."
There was a pause before she added. "While normally personal calls would not be something I would get involved in, as Ensign Olympia has recently had to be reprimanded and spend time in the Brig, I wanted to make her aware of just how thin the ice is she's standing on before relaying you over to her."
"If I may ask-" I began.
"Short version." Captain Freeman sounded unamused. "Tampered with evidence during an active investigation, contributed to escalating tensions during a diplomatic event, and... caused an accident that lead to one of my more promising junior officers to need surgery."
Involuntarily I let out a low whistle. "Girl doesn't do anything by halves. I take it since you used past tense, she is not currently in the brig and that you used rank means she was not court marshaled."
Captain Freeman nodded, "Transferring your call now."
The screen showed the federation delta for several moments before Olly's grinning face was front and center, complete with a new gold uniform.
"Hey popcicle! In spite of everything they haven't kicked me out and... I got put in engineering!"
"OK now how'd you pull that one off?" I paused before adding, "Both the whole... Brig thing, and getting a department transfer."
Olly snorted, trying to come off with a devil may care attitude. "It was all a big misunderstanding, but it all got sorted out and my idea of using the tractor beam as a power siphon was how we got everything sorted out. So no need to sweat the details."
"Olly...." I frowned, "They don't throw people in the brig for no reason, and that you had to use the ship's tractor beam suggests something went so beyond sideways there was a ship on ship firefight. This kinda goes past a misunderstanding straight past 'you done goofed,' and into 'How are you still wearing a uniform' territory."
"I..." She fidgeted. "Think it was because I finally stopped hiding and a lot of the other accidents fell into place."
When I didn't speak, she continued. "I'd been trying to hide ... this," She touched the golden laurel headdress that was apparently part of her, "so long that it just felt like things would've gotten worse if I explained everything. Liek they'd take all of it as me making trouble because I found it amusing instead of having barely any idea how my powers work."
"Wait, you've got what now?" I leaned in closer. "This something you can show me or would it break things?"
"Yea I... kinda would rather do the whole show and tell thing in person since if I try it might cut the connection and I'm... kinda on a 'you mess up again you're not just gone you're probably facing charges' thing according to Commander Ransom. So. Save that for a not-date?"
"Sounds grand." And it did, but this got my mind turning. "Probably above your pay grade but I'm going to send some data over. I get that the Cerritos is a busy ship, but I had a bit of a brainwave on interlinking our flotilla's shield systems so nobody has to deal with exploding consoles or flying rocks."
"Oh c'mon you get used to cordry rocks." Olly's tone was defensive, before she started elaborating, "It's actually quite interesting how they conduct-"
"Olly, focus." I tried heading her off before the tangent got going.
"Oh right!" Olly jumped at the interruption. "Just send the roughs up and I'll see if we can work a few simulations in. Might have to wait a week or so. Mister Billups has been running me through several tests to see if my...." She gave an exasperated sigh, "inheritance can be of any use or if it's all down sides."
"Huh, well. I'll make time if you need to rubber duck the debugging process."
"Wha?" She sounded confused. Which amused me.
"Old programmer thing. Talk to an inanimate object, a rubber duck being the example for Q alone knows what reason, to try engagign with a problem you're stuck on through a different perspective. Sounds stupid but I've had coder buddies that swear by it."
"Oh!" Olly squinted, "Well... I cant' Show you but... I can make these super lame lightning bolt constructs that kinda... flop everywhere."
I blinked.
She blinked.
"Flop? As in...?" I tried offering her a blank to fill in.
"Know what a pool noodle is?" She asked in exasperation. Then, after I nodded. "That, but like, a hard-light construct."
"Fascinating." I had this mental image of Olly surrounded by storm clouds swirling overhead, holding her arm high as if to throw one of Zeus's thunderbolts, only for it to be replaced by a pool noodle that limply smacked her opponent in the face instead of flash frying them.
Before I could ask any of the questions that came to mind there was a soft chime from Olly's end. "Hey, I gotta go. Mostly just wanted to share the good news."
"Yea that's great. keep in touch?"
"Always. Stay safe out there." Then the screen went dark.
As I walked away. I smiled in spite of myself. Help obtained in making sure I didn't accidentilly the flotilla's shields.
