U.S.C. RODOMONT

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U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

This story links back to one of the first ones I ever did, years ago. But it's not needed to know the 'WARPATCH' story as there'll be a catch up paragraph some parts in. It's also more about the ship crew than previous 'Postain' tales. Which is why I'm calling it Rodomont.

ONE

Midway. Between Cora IV and the neighbouring system of Harrida, space was fairly quiet. Solar winds wafted silently in the void, lit by the output of the three nearest stars and the patchwork of far off ones. It was a good place to pic up shuttles and meet with other large ships on their way to other systems. The greyscale battleship Rodomont waited there as it finished its standard patrol and waited for officers coming back off vacation days. Strangely, many of them often opted to spend them on Cora II or nearby colonies so Captain Postain had approved the ship to stay here for them…


...especially when he was one of them. The fact that the Captain wasn’t on board was why Hadrian Jak was relaxing whilst serving as acting security chief, sitting back in his… well, Chief Yarkin’s… chair and putting his hooved feet up on the table as he checked through the latest security reports on a padd. The figures looked good and tidy, ready for Chief Yarkin’s return from her holiday today. She’d been pot-holing on Sevinus III and he was rather hoping to avoid the punishment of watching her recordings. The fact she’d be coming back after several hours with the Captain would only worsen the Feline’s mood and… Just in case, Hadrian took his feet off the desk and checked it to make sure he’d not scratched it. Nothing, he thought happily. He was getting better at that, just like he was getting better with the cyber antlers that had seemed like a brilliant idea when he’d had them installed. Then Simone had banned him from the bed for a month and everyone wanted to play him at cards. That had been the best part of a year ago now. “Well,” he told himself, “the Chief can’t argue with the stats. Ship’s been peaceful these last two weeks.”

“That,” said a voice from outside the door, “is because you’ve been a little less stringent on brigging people and have been content just to break up fights, Jak.” The small form of Commander Xarra, the Mican first Officer who’d been in command this last fornting, stepped into the office, hands behind her back. She glanced up. “I take it I startled you,” she asked cheekily.

Hadrian wondered what she was talking about for a second, glanced upwards as though he could see through his own skull and mentally adapted the antlers back down. “Sorry, Commander,” he said. “How can I help you?”

The Mican moved around the room with an almost imperious grace. “Oh, nothing,” she admitted, “I’m just giving the place a once over before the Captain gets back.”

Jak chuckled lightly. “Of course, Hilla. May I call you Hilla this once?”

Xarra cocked her head slightly. “I suppose I’ll let you get away with it, Hadrian. This once. Overall it’s not been bad, has it? A couple of medical runs, a freighter escort and a normal patrol.”

“One pirate ship detained and a diplomatic spat averted,” Jak finished.

“Not that it’s of any import to the careers,” Xarra finished. Jak didn’t bother to call her on the lie. She’d been hoping to get a ship they’d called the NightSky after they’d taken it several months ago but Raicarra had recalled it as their propriety technology – on suspicion of it being stolen – and she’d merely been promoted following Rhew’s quitting. “Do we have any news on a replacement Engineering Chief yet?”

“Yeah, Ade, we’ll be picking one up the next time we stop at Talvary. He’s coming out from the Core systems. A Celican, I think. Or a Human. Not sure which.”

“Either way, Darren’ll be happy.”

Xarra whooped. “Command does not assign officers to please middle ranking Science Officers,” she laughed. “Anyhow, it’s all under control here, yeah?”

Hadrian chose to stand and pushed himself up from the chair. He took a small bow. “By my word, my liege, it all proceeds apace within.”

Xarra raised part of her upper lip and looked confused. “I take it that’s a ‘yes’?”

“Absolutely.”

“And when do you get time to learn the classics?”

“Simone’s trying for a part in the play,” Jak replied. “Someone needs to read her feedlines.”


Xarra made her excuses and wandered off, past the ship shop, where Enzo Carvahlo was buying an Ice cream, and headed towards the medical bay, where Doctor Flakk was holding court. “You’re doing fine, Mouse,” the Spectacle Wolf snapped before the door had even opened. “I’ve had very few annoyances in my life these last few weeks.”

She poked her head around the door. “Don’t you mean patients,” she asked sweetly.

“I know what I mean,” he replied. “Less patients, less annoyances. I do excellent work on them and they return here with the same injuries sustained in that bloody fake environment rooma week later! If I got my way, it’d be mothballed for thirty years!”

“Still teaching the self defence classes?”

“Yeah.” The Wolf allowed the slightest hint of humour in the line of his face. “Best way to stop ‘em getting injured is to teach them how to take blows and give ‘em effectively.”

“If you don’t watch it,” she chided, “they’ll figure out you actually like them.”

“Away with you, distraction.” He waved her away and got back to his work, checking over the latest requests from his Lothario subordinate Mican Jul in the secondary medical bay. Even though the idiot prodigy was going steady for now, he couldn’t help but feel he was flirting with everything female on the ship. The old Wolf grunted. It was probably just his way. The occasional reminder of disciplinary action helped, of course. As it was, the boy wanted standard medical supplies so Flakk authorised them before his next appointment. “Afternoon, Kerrison,” he said, sniffing the scent of the little Chipmunk as she came in. He handed over the bottle of pills she was there for. “Tonight’s the night, eh,” he asked her.

“Yep,” the little Engineer squeaked. “We’vebeenwaitinguntil…”

“You’re hurting my ears, Kerrison,” he groused.

She coughed. “Sorry. We’vebeen waiting until we were both readyand we’re thinking it’s tonight.”

“Good luck to the pair of you,” he mooted. “Buzz off.”


Kerri buzzed back to Engineering where, in lieu of anyone qualified to be chief, they’d temporarily allowed her to be a freelancer and floater, doing that she needed when she needed to do it. The padd told her if Lieutenant Pilta had anything urgent she needed her for but he rarely called her. She was a bit worried by that until Senny had reminded her that continual notifications from a team leader were a bad thing, telling that you were doing a bad job. And Pilta obviously thought she was doing a good job. Now she checked the padd and headed for one of the conduits to run a stress test before the Captain got back. And he’d be back in a few hours.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Harry Johnathan »

This should be fun.
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 Amazee Dayzee »

Really looking forward to seeing where this will go!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Same here, Amazee(!)

Must admit, I like writing Flakk. He's just so grouchy. Like McCoy, T'Ana, The E.M.H. from Voyager...
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWO

Security Chief Yarkin settled back into the second class shuttle seat and opened her padd to try and read some of her book, a Celican thriller that had the usual amount of violence and encounters in beds and alleyways, both of which dropped bodies and one of which led to Cubs if not protected. When it came to literature, the Feline thought, you don’t go to Celica for much in the way of contemplative fiction. It passed the time on shuttles, though, but she couldn’t figure why the Captain had told her to read it. As she was headed for the Rodomont, this ticket was free. As she wasn’t Captain Postain, she wasn’t getting into First Class, where the food was fine, the drink flowed politely and eternally, the chat was civil and non existent if you didn’t want it, the vidcalls were free and the lights were bright and turn on and offable. Back here, she had a screaming Canine kid two rows back, a flatulent Raitchian across the way and a Human behind her whose vissystem headphones didn’t fit his weird ears properly so she could hear every word of the Mican Comedy show he was watching and hear every screech of the ‘studio’ laughter. With all this, she was reflecting wistfully on where she’d started the book, 100ft under the surface, attached to an antigravity rappelling rope before heading down to the underground waterfall.

“Any good,” said a voice to one side.

She looked over to where a young looking Celican was looking at her hopefully. “Bit over sexed and over gunned,” she opined. “Typical Celican fare – uh, no offence. It’s probably perfect for their market.”

“Well, I do hope so,” the Celican told her. “My publisher told me ‘The left hand of destruction’ should go platinum.”

Yarkin sighed inwardly and leaned back into her seat. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you wrote it?”

The Celican put his hand to his chest and put on a look of surprise that cheered Yarkin’s mood. “Who,” he asked casually, “me? I’d never claim that. But, if you DO see the author’s picture, it may remind you of someone.”

“Why would a successful author be travelling second class?”

“Well, it takes more than one book to make a success. Promotional signing tour. Effortless disaster.” He leaned over slightly to mock whisper. “Lappinean religious colonies don’t go in for our books. But it’s over now.”

“Right. Well, don’t tell me how it ends,” Yarkin replied, settling back to read her book as a flight attendant came around to offer lower brand name drinks.


Captain Marius Postain reclined in First Class, sipping a beer and relaxing as the automated massage facility worked on his footpads and shoulders. The concierge had come around with hot towels but the Rottian wasn’t one for that sort of thing so he’d turned that down. With the privacy field up, he’d had a chat on the vid with Chichester, saying his farewells and telling her again that he’d be back in a few weeks. Even with the field up, he was reluctant to discuss what he was going to be up to a and, frankly, it was going to be sedate and everyday to the best of his knowledge. After that, he’d put in a call to the other Mican in his world, Xarra, and she’d told him that the ship was still in one piece and everyone was just as they left it. He’d finished that call before lunch and now, after the Steak Fasicarrica, he was wondering what to do. He chose to watch a film.


Hadrian found he had a little time so choose to route his standard walk patrol around towards the science decks, where everyone was hard at work doing… sciency things. He was hoping to see Simone in the botany labs but, first, he had to pass by…

“Heya, Hadrian,” called a happy Celican, wearing a Sciences Uniform as he spun around in his chair. Lieutenant Darren Levan pushed himself up to his feet and Jak noted how he’d started keeping his uniform cleaner over the last few months. A certain ‘feminine’ influence, Jak thought. Had that happened to him too?

“Hey, Darren,” the Cervidian replied, “busy day sciencing?”

“Nah,” Darran breezed, “just been running through the findings on those gaseous anomalies we found a few days back.”

“Ah, yes. The day we were alerted to the presence of ‘strange matter’ in the void.”

Darren shrugged. “Pity the sensors really needed recalibration, “Darren agreed. “Boron should not make the sensors do that. Anyhow, now we’re analysing that debris field we found out on the border.” His ears flattened and Darren looked a little embarrassed. “Um, can I ask you a question?” He closed in and Hadrian leaned down so his ear was closer to Darrens’ mouth. “When it came to… you know? With Simone? Uh… for the first time..? How did you know..?”

Jak straightened up. “You’ve been going out with her for six months, Darren. For the last two months, you’ve had this date booked. You’ve told me that five times. Kerri still wants to and I can tell you still want to. Just like Simone and I. The time’s right, the people are right and the experience? Well, that’’ll be right too. Trust in yourself, my friend.”


“So,” Harmony Appleby said as she put away the lunch dishes in something that looked uncommonly like housework, “what did your ‘old friend’ have to say this time?” The Erminian slipped herself onto the settee opposite her Castoran mate and looked at her expectantly. The call had come in in the usual way, bypassing Maldak, the Quokka at Bridge Communications, and straight to their living room system an a code that the Command staff absolutely knew about but tolerated. Sometimes there were things that couldn’t be dealt with through official channels and the former Pirate still had one or two people slipping her information.

“Well,” Senny said, sipping her river water, “I couldn’t possibly tell YOU…” She grinned. “OK, perhaps I can. You never heard it from me but, apparently, the Guild has decided to go on a full offensive against a certain organised crime gang.”

“Full offensive?”

“No trading with them, no dealing with them and notify the Clan Chief if you suspect you’ve found a base.” She leaned back on the Sofa. “They don’t want them here any more than I do,” she opined. “They’re too loud. Draw too much attention in.”

“Attention like us, you mean?”

“Darn tootin’. There’s a limit to how many cops criminals want in an area.” She tilted her head. “Excepting you, of course.”

“Oh, so I’m allowed to invade your area any time I… really just said that, didn’t I?”

“Darn tootin’,” Senny repeated.


“Odd,” Darren said as his computer booped behind him. He crossed back to it and stared at the readout. “I’m going to have to check they’ve recalibrated these,” he told Jak.

“Why?”

“Well,” he said, gesturing towards the display. “According to these readouts… That debris field used to be a small planet. Some manufactured plastics and refined metals indicating civilisation. We haven’t mapped out here much and few telescopes are pointed here so it’s quite possible but…”

“But what?”

“It’s only been a debris field for about eighteen months, according to this.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Well this was a great addition! Keep it up please!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

The area of England & Wales Kelly's kayaking down is real. It's called the Severn Estuary and has the second highest tidal bore on Earth. Her exact position is between the Severn Bridge, one of the most important suspension bridges in the world - they invented at least a dozen new ways of making a stable bridge of that length for it - and The Second Severn Crossing, built 30 years later.

THREE


Xarra was in a bit of a hurry as she headed down to the Sciences department and missed Levan’s room completely, turning around a few doors further down and walking in as though she’d intentionally come from that direction and hadn’t just made a mistake. She strode over to the Celican’s shoulder, talking as she went. “What do you mean ‘it was recently a planet?'”

Darren indicated the screen. “The radiographic analysis shows that it’s not been an asteroid field long, Commander,” he told her. “The background radiation wasn’t anything dangerous to us – which is why the sensors didn’t warn us at the time – but it looks like it had a massive spike of energy sometime about twelve to eighteen months ago. It also seems to be the epicentre of half the rogue space rocks we’ve picked up over the last few months so that gives us some idea of what happened.”

“How so?”

Darren looked at her curiously. “Well, there’s been nothing reported by colonies in certain directions. To put it in 2d terms, there’s been very few new comets and meteors and rocks that needed destroying from about seventy-five to ninety degrees left or right of the asteroid field and plenty of stuff in front of it on our side of space.”

She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Are you telling me someone SHOT a planetoid?”

“I wouldn’t like to hang my career on it,” Darren admitted, “but what evidence we have indicates that it’s a possibility. We should head back and pick up more samples to make sure.”

“I’ll raise it with the Captain when he gets back, Levan. The other possibility is that something explosive happened inside the Planetoid.” She held up a hand as she could see he was about to interrupt. “I KNOW the evidence – such as we have – doesn’t support that but, as you said, we don’t have any real evidence. This ship’s refit is still new out of the package and I have no intent of being responsible for the interior getting chipped or, worse, blasted out into the void. So I’m invoking First Officer’s privilege and booting it up the command chain. Plus, if we go back there, we’ll have to leave here and we won’t be back in time to pick our people up.” She nudged his shoulder. “Including your senior. Or is that why you want to go, hmm?”

Levan chuckled and denied it. He liked this Hilla Xarra better than the one he’d met when she’d first arrived. Perhaps her time commanding the NightSky had convinced her that Postain’s totally gruff, acerbic, style of management wasn’t quite the way for a Mican who barely cleared five foot in height to deal with people. “I just think they’ll appreciate us getting things in motion, is all.”

Xarra nodded. “I’ll have the helm ready the course. You get science bay two ready for analysis details. We’ll do deeper scans this time, Darren.” She patted the computer. “Good catch, Computer,” she said, leaving the Celican a little aggrieved as she headed out.


Doctor Kelly Cobalt relaxed in her black and purple wetsuit at the end of a lengthy river escapade that had actually covered no more than thirty yards of space. She’d almost come out of the canoe three times, almost capsized once and almost broken her paddle on several rocks as he’d gone down the rapids. Now she was on the beach somewhere near the mouth of the river. She’d asked for a challenge and the Computer had suggested the second highest tidal bore on the Planet Earth. But she’d done it and now she was laid out on a beach, looking at an impressive ancient structure in the distance. Two of them, in fact, one further out into the estuary than the other. Two bridges with silent vehicles cruising them. Handsome structures. But, then, she appreciated bridges. They showed people trying to cross gaps that had been insurmountable at one point. A holographic beach ball bounced off her head and a holographic Human mother apologised as her holographic children chased it down. She waved it away and said it was no bother. Flakk would probably have done his best to ignore it and snap at her about why she’d programmed civilians on a beach. He never appreciated these things. Well, not the peaceful ones anyhow. Every now and again, she just liked to get away. Destress. Relax. Get hit on the head by an inflatable ball. She pushed herself back upright and changed the simulation to a dressing room before releasing herself from the wetsuit and changing back into her normal clothes, which had reappeared in the far corner of the room. She headed out.


“More holograms,” Flakk asked tightly as she stepped into the medical bay.

She started, surprised by the unexpected accusation from her senior. “Well, I couldn’t get to the actual Earth to do it, could I?”

Flakk put down the padd he’d been using. “They have canoeing on other worlds, Kelly,” he charged, “canoeing with actual other people and actual scenery. Not some… photocopied replica. There’s nothing like the real thing, girl. Believe me on that.”

“I do, I do,” Doctor Cobalt agreed, “but look on it this way. If I’d gone on a real holiday, I’d be stuck on a small shuttle with the Captain and the Chief, wouldn’t I?”

“And our guest,” Flakk griped.

Cobalt frowned. “What guest?”


“Whyus,” Kerri asked, checking over the last things involved in the setting up of the room.

“Apparently it’s something to do with promoting the U.S.C. as an employment option through positive press,” Jak advised. He’d heard about this temporary assignment a day or so ago and he’d looked the guy up as he’d never heard of him. “They’re looking for positive vibes and this guy’s doing research on the Briar Patch so they had to assign him to a ship.”

Kerri shrugged. “Igetthatbutwhyus? Couldn’tthe…” She paused as she saw the bemused look on the Cervidan’s face. “I’ll remember peopledon’t speak as fast asus one day,” she chided herself with a wry grin. “I wanted to knowwhy the Loper or… Oh, rightyeah.”

“Loper’s a great ship,” Jak replied, “with a good crew but I don’t think Sector Command wants the general public exposed to TOO much of their madness, hmm?”

Kerri waved a socket spanner at him. “Want me to tell his Chief Engineer you think they’re mad?” She adjusted the picture on the vid system so the lines vanished. “We meet everyfewmonths y’know?”

“Huh,” Jak snorted. “That’d just be another predator after my li… Oh, I forgot Simone’s practice!” He darted away.

“Howwe evergottime for amateurdramatics is beyond me,” Kerri told him. She looked around at the silence. “And theycall ME fast!”


Yarkin blinked. He was still there. The ship had reached the transfer point and was about to receive the shuttle from the Rodomont and the Celican was with the party. Postain was there, of course, and so were the other officers and crew who’d been on leave. And this guy. She made her way over to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was thinking of asking the same question,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I work over there,” she replied. “Security Chief Ellan Yarkin.”

He offered a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caldan Ravel.”

“I know,” she snapped, keeping her eyes tight on him. “This is a scheduled rendezvous to get people off who work on the Rodomont. What are YOU doing here?”

“Coming to work on the Rodomont,” Ravel replied, carefully taking her hand and shaking it, expecting to feel claws at any second. “Research for my next book. It’s arranged with sector Command. Didn’t they tell you?”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I would definitely read that next book! It sounds interesting!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

The interesting thing is I absolutely did NOT intend Caldan to be a recurring character. He kinda wrote himself in during this chapter. Pun sorta intended.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

He does work here so you will get no complaints from me! Hope you keep up the writing!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOUR

Postain stared at the display on the computer in his office as Xarra stood opposite, awaiting his inevitable question. He’d not had time to change after docking and disembarking the cruise shuttle but that was mainly because he’d headed straight to the bridge to assume control and, after welcoming him back on board and officially transferring command back to him, Xarra had told him she needed to speak with him in his office. He’d kept his thoughts about how he figured the reporting of a rooster-up would take longer than this and he didn’t quite know if he was impressed by her honesty or depressed by the near inevitability. So he’d let her lead the way to the office she was relinquishing as he pondered the punishments. Then, of course, she’d actually told him what the ship had discovered and he was concerned in a different way. “And you’re sure the sensors don’t need recalibrating, Xarra? I know we were having trouble with them over the last few weeks.”

“We finished the recalibrations and maintenance cleared all debris from the external systems two days before we got to the field, sir. They’re in as good a condition as when we got them, sir. It’s not in an area we generally survey but, if Levan is to be believed – and I think he is… in this case – something shot a planetoid less than two years back.”

Postain mused on the matter. It was within their space but only barely. The rule of law out this far was tenuous, almost unenforceable in cases. If an alien race arrived and claimed it, there wasn’t really anything they could do about it and there was pretty much nothing worth fighting about. But, on the same level, there were other possibilities.


The better part of a decade back, the new colonies had come under attack from a race outside of Council space. A highly advanced race had been attacked by brigands who’d laid blame for the attack at the Council’s feet. The first attack had been driven back but both sides had lost several ships and a suicide strike had blown Cabbary space station apart, crippling Council efforts in the patch. It had taken one of the old explorer ships, the heavily armed Fauntleroy, to travel to the home world of the Star Council to convince them that they were both being set up. The Raitchians, who’d provided help, had tried to set up a trading station on the home world but had been caught cheating by the Brockian like race and thrown off. Since then the Star Council had maintained a stoic silence, even when communication requests had been made. He doubted this would be their way of re-announcing themselves but he couldn’t ignore the fact that the beam Levan was intimating had destroyed the place had come from their rough direction, rather than the area the Loper had explored. He looked up. Xarra was still waiting for his response. “Set a course for the field,” he ordered. “I’ll tell Postlethwaite the news.”


Henry Postlethwaite hated days like today. Everything had been going swimmingly which meant there was an inevitable time when someone pulled the plug out and drained the pool just before someone dove from the ten metre board. And, from the request for immediate communication from Postain, he had a feeling it was about to happen. By his reckoning, Marius had only just returned to his ship so a call now couldn’t be good. “Get ready to dial Council central,” he told his current adjutant and he was only half joking. He stepped into his office, closed the door and made himself a mug of Salatan Spice Coffee before he sat behind his desk and contacted Maldak aboard the Rodomont to connect them. Postain filled the old Mican in and it didn’t make Henry’s day. Not in any way. He’d been on Pandera in those days, heading up the IOC in the sector. Which was why the building had come under direct attack from the brigands at the start of the war. They’d levelled the five storey building amongst other icons of law and order in the city. He bitterly recalled the building coming down around the ears of his team and the violence in the streets thereafter and the dead agents and police… He shook his head to cast off the foul memories. “But you can’t be certain it’s them, Marius?”

<”We know nothing for certain, sir,”> Postain responded, <”but we need to carry out a more detailed scan of the field and proceed from there. I just thought you should be advised is all.”>

“Agreed. Your science division’s competent enough that I’m not going to route the Savval out there to do it.”

Postain nodded on the screen. He knew of the science ship and her Captain. He’d heard the rumours of who she was related to. <”Probably best,”> he agreed, <”but it might be an idea to have a ship or two ready to come with us if needed.”>

“Establish the need FIRST, Marius,” Postlethwaite ordered. He closed the line, then commed his adjutant.

<”Sir,”> the adjutant remarked from the other room.

“That line to Council Central that I was joking about?” He sighed. “I’m not sure I’m joking now. Get me Councillor Una. Soon as you can.”


Kerri Kerrison finished off the dinner Darren had replicated with his usual nervousness and patted her lips with a napkin. “AlwayslikedGranika,” she said happily, raising her glass of tea to her host as he finished off his Mentaka Shala and smiled at her, showing a piece of replicated… something in his teeth. She reached across and picked it out with a claw. He took her hand in his and licked the piece of food back off. She giggled. “Forward,aren’t we?”

Darren almost blushed. He really hadn’t been thinking of it that way. He loved how she spoke and rarely asked her to slow down. It matched her personality and he loved that too. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence and humour and she had the grace of a Celican to go with the speed of a Mican and… He gently kissed her hand and let it go. “It’s easy to admit I love you, Kerri,” he told her. “And I honestly mean it.”

“That almost sounds like a ‘but’,” Kerri said, deliberately slowing her words for him to understand them as she shifted around to his side.

“No buts,” Darren insisted, leaning over to kiss her. He pulled back after several seconds of gentle contact. “I just worry about hurting you, is all.”

Kerri put her hand up and stroked his throat and under his muzzle. “Youshouldn’tworry,Darren,” she told him. “Iknowyou’d neverhurtme, love.” She shifted onto her knees to kiss his chin. “Butfilm first, eh?”

Darren took her into a hug, which she returned, and gently kissed her neck. “You smell of Acorns,” he told her.

“Fimfirst,” Kerri replied, chuckling.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This chapter is very awesome! Keep up the momentum!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FIVE

Darren turned over in bed and reached out for his clock to see what it showed him this morning. He was lucky he had his left arm free as his right was occupied with Kerri, who was just stirring awake under the new movement. She murred and subvocalised her way to consciousness as she remained pressed into his side. He turned the clock display on as she draped a small arm across to his shoulder. “Notp’litet’wakeag’rl,” she drawled.

Darren glanced at her and gave her a small kiss. “Did you just say Nut lights whack a girl,” he asked sweetly.

“Nutst’you,” she replied, a smile showing in the light from his clock. “’Sitmornin’already?”

“I sometimes wake during the night,” Darren confessed as his tail moved happily in the bed. “so let’s see… 0330,” he said, “so we can go back to sleep. Huh,”

“What’sa’huh’gottodowithanything?”

“Huh?”

She returned his lipkiss and opened her eyes properly. “I said what’sa ‘huh’ gotto do with anything?”

“I know…” He put the clock down and turned his face towards her so she could see the look of devotion he hoped was on his face. “...Lover. My clock shows the direction the ship’s going. I was wondering why we’re headed back to that asteroid belt.” He stroked her side. “But I suppose we were always going to, yeah?”

“Afterwhat you saidlast night,” Kerri replied, “absolutely. When do we arrive?”

“Several hours, Kerri.”

“I enjoyed last night,” she told him as the light went out, putting the room back into pitch darkness.

“Well,” Darren’s voice said, “we don’t need to go back to sleep immediately.”


Martin Jul sat in his sickbay, idling time as the early hours ticked by. It was something he was no longer surprised by, this sitting in his office throughout the night. A short while ago, the Mican would have been bed hopping but now he was far too mature for that in his own mind. Far too invested in his relationship with Benita ‘|Benny’ Carvalho to risk things on something so pointless. He occasionally wondered how she’d gotten so under his skin but that always passed. Like a stent or a pacemaker, it didn’t matter how she’d gotten there, it just mattered that she WAS there. So he was here, guarding the night shift against bumps and scrapes and everything else. But it was quite boring. There always seemed to be more to do on the day shifts. He didn’t know if that was just because there were more people working those shifts or if the night staff were more competent. He wasn’t a fan of watching vids alone but he always had trouble concentrating on reading medical manuals when his brain refused to shut up and let him…

The door opened and Enzo Carvalho walked in, yawning slightly despite the fact he was fully dressed. Martin stopped his spinning and faced the ten year old Raitchian. “What are you doing up, Enzo,” he asked, before flashing back to a ‘conversation’ last year with someone else. “It’s not a school night, is it?”

The boy laughed. “Nope. Just figured you’d like someone to spend time with you, Doct… uh, Martin.”

Doctor Jul cringed. “Still sounds odd when you say that,” he admitted, “but I kinda like it you don’t just see me as a Doctor these days.”

“You have enough meals with me and mum,” the boy cheeked, getting up onto one of the beds and whipping his tail around to his front to hold.

Doctor Jul shrugged and stood up. “Want some water,” he asked. “And I need those beds as clean as possible.” He pointed over to a small two seat unit in the corner. “Use that.” He fixed a couple of drinks after Enzo replied and took them across to the little sofa, taking a large padd with him. He sat next to the boy and turned the thing on. “So, what episode of KillRangers today, hmm?”

“The one with the Lakkarian Symbiote.”

Jul frowned and handed the boy the padd. “I don’t think I know that one.”


Xarra stood the night watch on the bridge, Maldak at communications, Harris at weapons and Makilla at the helm were her staff as she sat watching stars flow by. Maldak was listening out for any signals in their vicinity and reporting pretty much nothing worthwhile. She’d still logged everything, of course, so the Mican knew the Kalbarran Militia had responded to a freighter under attack by brigands and had seen it off and a pleasure cruiseliner had altered course so it didn’t receive an asteroid in the face. “Is it in our path,” Xarra had asked.

“With a minor course correction, yes,” the Quokkan replied. “And it’s heading towards a freight lane.”

Xarra sighed slightly. “The asteroid field’s not going anywhere. Makilla, work out an intercept course. Harris, make sure the guns are ready. I don’t want us delayed more than needed but standing orders are clear. Someone’s gotta shoot the within the automobile and we’re closest. Time to intercept?”

“Uh, thirty minutes, Ma’am,” Makilla replied.

“Don’t call me ‘ma’am’ when I’m on the bridge, Makilla,” she told the Shrew.

“Sorry, Commander.”

“Right. I’ll be in my office for a few minutes.” She stepped to the opposite corner of the bridge, directly across from Postain’s office and stepped in. Working her way around her desk, she sat behind the computer monitor and paged Captain Postain. He appeared and she reckoned he looked like he’d bitten into soap he looked so dishevelled. “Apologies for waking you, sir,” she said, thankful she’d thought to do it this way, rather than going down to his cabin.

<”Stow the apologies, Xarra,”> he grumped, <”just tell me what’s going on.”>

“We’ve had to take a slight diversion, sir. A liner reported a near miss with an asteroid headed towards the freight lanes. We’re closest so we need to intercept it.”

<”Fair enough. Do you know where it came from?”>

“Unknown right now, sir.”

<”I’ll come up. Hold on destroying it. Sciences might know where it came from.”>

“You think it might be related to our current mystery, sir?”

<”All’s possible, Commander. See you in ten.”>

Xarra let out a breath as the line went dark.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Lovely work as usual Welsh! Keep up the good work! :mrgreen:
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Postain has some of the better officers in the local Council ranks on his ship.

Some, however, are not as good/confident as others.

SIX


The screen was showing open space when Postain arrived on the bridge, with the ship clock showing 0345. Xarra was already in the first officers’ chair rather than the Captains so he took up his seat without having to get her out of it. “Science Officer on the way,” he asked.

“Lieutenant Kridd’s coming. He’s the senior on night duty today.”

Postain considered the Feline Science Officer as just about capable and grimaced. He’d never quite seen what Science Chief Tavin saw in him. But he could read the screen as well as anyone. “Good,” he told Xarra. “Any sign of this rock?”

“Not as of yet,” she assured him. “From what the liner said we should be seeing it on long range in about ten minutes at this speed.”

“No point in wasting time. Increase to velocity three, Makilla.”

“Aye, sir,” the Shrew replied, hitting the buttons to push the engines.


Senny’s eyes opened. “Did you feel that,” she asked Harmony, before reasoning her mate was still asleep. “We’ve increased past cruising speed,” she muttered to herself, shifting around to put her feet on the floor. “That’s not standard.” She stood up, shifting the bed enough to wake the Erminian.
“Sorry,” she said.

“What’s got you up,” the telepath asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

Senny snorted a laugh. “Oh, so many ways to answer that,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Half of which would be rude.” She turned on the bedside light so she could see to dress in her ‘ready-to-go’ outfit. “Ship’s increased speed. Felt the extra pull for a few seconds until compensators adjusted.” She pulled trousers up over her underwear and worked to clip the tail hole before the frontage. “That’s usually an indication we’re in a hurry,” she advised, leaning over the bed to kiss Harmony and receive a kiss in return. “Means the fighters might be needed.”

Harmony lay back, keeping the covers atop her. “Oh, so it’s a pilot thing.”

“What else could get me out of the bed at this time,” Senny asked, heading over to the replication machine before remembering she’d forgotten her boots. She stepped back and put them on. “I’ll check in in a moment or two,” she added, going back to the replication machine and ordering her morning Coffee. She took a pep pill from the dispenser to clear away the mental cobwebs. She checked who was on the night flight before she headed out, towards the bridge.


When she got there, she stepped past a Feline she didn’t know and looked at the rock on the viewer.

“No Coffee on the bridge, Pirate,” Postain snapped, without turning around. “Change in pressure woke you, I take it?”

“I forget you were a pilot,” she replied. “And yes. How big is it?”

“The capacity for understatement when regards Cruise liners,” Xarra said unhelpfully, “is now confirmed. Asteroid indeed.” She looked up at the Castoran. “for size reference, it’s about sixty miles wide and thirty miles in depth.”

“The size of a small country,” Senny remarked. “I can have a shuttle ready to go and get someone to plant explosives under the surface to…”

“Figured that out already, Pirate.” He held up two fingers, around about three inches apart. “Your leash is THIS long. Jink is the night-time munitions officer. Get her, get suited and get ready. And get out.”

“On it,” Senny replied, leaving her coffee on the nearest console as Maldak contacted Jink to let her in on the plan.

“Trusting her with a ship now,” Xarra asked casually.

“That a question, Commander? I’m trusting she’s got no reason to run. If she does, she’ll find out how much the implants can hurt. Kridd, you getting any readings on that thing?”

The Feline almost dropped the silicone rod he was holding in surprise as his name was said. “Err,” he started, cringing mentally at the bad impression, “at this range I can’t go too much more than surface scans, sir,” he confessed. “It certainly shares a lot of similarities with the asteroid belt,” he confessed, “and it came through that area but… there’s something about the speed I can’t account for, sir.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t account for it, sir.” Kridd confessed, raising his hands. “It’s going at a higher velocity than the other pieces we’ve charted over the last few days. It’s like… for a ship, it’d be like doing a slingshot effect.”

“It’s faster than usual, you mean?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then just say that! And get me better scans!”

“Yessir.”


Security Officer Jink was annoyed. The Feline had spent the last three hours dreaming about the end of her shift and the twenty-nine leisure hours afterward and now, with an hour and a half to go, she was having to get the heavy set suit on and ready drill bits and explosive charges so some Pirate could go and fly a shuttle to set down on an asteroid and… OK, she told herself, maybe it wasn’t quite such a boring thing. Could be fun, even.

“You about ready,” the voice behind her said. She turned to see the dark furred Castoran that she believed Postain was only sending because he didn’t want to use any of his fighter pilots. “Do you speak,” the pilot added.

Jink realised she’d stayed silent too long. “Sometimes,” she said. “Ready when you are.” She boarded the shuttle after Senny completed the final visual check of the craft.


Twenty minutes later, wearing her helmet, Jink was drilling into the rock after Senny had found a flat enough spot to land. The gravity boots kept her on the asteroid’s surface as the device bored down through the crust, sensors sending data back to the Rodomont as they went.


Kridd pored over the new data from his scans and the drill as they came in. “OK,” he announced, “according to these new scans… Um…” He frowned.

“Get ON with it,” Postain growled.

“Well, uh, according to these scans, it seems we … er… not you, sir, the science teams, were wrong about where this thing, um, came from. It’s not… it’s not from the asteroid field, um, sir. The outer shell is, of course but, um… The… the core isn’t. I can’t tell what it is but… I think it used to be a lot faster, sir.”

“On screen.”

Kridd granted the order and put a cross section of the thing up on the main screen. “It’s layers, sir,” he told them. “Several layers, in fact. I’d um, say this thing’s picked up matter from, uh, everything it’s passed through. That’s, um, why the speed is off.” he looked up. “It’s been slowed by everything it’s hit. The core’s a bullet, sir.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

It makes me wonder what sort of officers Hawle has on his ship if Postain has the better ones.

Oh wait, its the ones that shove pastries at him. XD Anyway great chapter!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Hawle has average Officers and makes them a family unit. Postain has better officers but less of a family unit.

SEVEN

Xarra twisted in her seat. “A BULLET, Lieutenant,” she spat. “Are you sure on that?”

“Well, uh,” Kridd said, “it’s a solid core and was going at speed. It’s, um, picked up debris from everything it’s hit or, um, passed.. which indicates it has a gravitational effect. It could… could be a projectile but…” He smiled unconvincingly. “It could, uh, equally be someone really advanced trying to create a planet?”

“Stop reading bad sci-fi,” Postain growled. “It doesn’t matter what it is right now. What matters is can we stop it?”

“Well, yes but…”

“Spit it, Kridd.”

“They’re drilling in the wrong place. If… if they drill into the FRONT of the asteroid do it deep enough, an explosion of sufficient power would not only fragment the thing but provide a reverse thrust to the core. Maybe slow it down? So, um, we can use thruster drones to stop it?” He hoped his face was portraying hope, not intestinal discomfort.

“As good a plan as we’ve got,” Postain conceded. “Maldak, put us on with Appleby and Jink. Kridd? Wake your boss.”

“Aye… Aye, sir.” The Feline slid off to call his divisional Commander.


<”I can’t believe I’m humping this flamin’ drill,”> Jink complained, hefting the mechanism back into the shuttle as Senny ran her checks over the best place to land. <”You could have helped, Appleby.”>

<”I always do help her,”> Senny replied lightly. <”I help anyone who asks. But precious few who don’t. So’s you know.”> She indicated a point on the monitor. <”This place look good?”>

The Feline shoved her helmet close to Senny’s and examined the location she’d chosen. <”Thin crust,”> she said, <”impacted rock and minerals… Yeah, seems fine. Good choice… Senny. Can I call you that?”>

<”It’s my name. And better than ‘pirate’.”> Jink strapped herself in before Senny began lift off procedures. <”Bit more thrust than I thought,”> she admitted. <”Suppose that’s the gravity effect the Cat noticed.”>

<”Cat,”> Jink replied. <”You’ll have to be more specific. There are billions of us around,”>

<”Scrawny science type. Ginger & white. Doesn’t seem confident. Knock kneed...”>

<”Nibbled ears,”> Jink asked. <”That’d be Kridd. He’s OK. Just nervous.”>

<”Coming in for landing. Want a hand with that drill?”>

<”Nope,”> Jink replied as the ship landed.


“The Five O’clock bell,” Simone Jak said, reaching over to slap the alarm clock with her bone tipped fingers. It was always her who had to do it, even though it was Hadrian’s time to get up. She had at least another half hour before she needed to be up. But Hadrian could sleep through an avalanche on times if it didn’t affect him so it usually meant her waking him with a few pushes that she applied now. Her buck stirred under her hand and ‘wassat’ed his way to a waking state.

“Always a beautiful sight t’ wake me,” he said, kissing his wife good morning before turning on his antlers and letting them flow to their normal state whilst he held her.

“You always make the same mistake,” Simone mocked, tapping one of the liquid metal extensions. “Turning them on BEFORE you get dressed.”

“And showered. You go back to sleep, love.” Jak pulled himself out of the bed, retracted the antlers and headed for the sonic shower.


Twenty minutes later, Hadrian was ready for the morning as he pulled his shirt over his vest and buttoned the collar. A nutrient bar served as first breakfast and would keep him active until breakfast break at around eight. After taking several swallows of an arboreal smoothie, he left his quarters and headed down towards the security office. Amongst the things he hadn’t expected to see on his morning walk was a Celican wearing yellow shorts and sandals as his entire outfit, taking notes on the passageways with a pencil and paper as he looked up at the ceiling. Hadrian had the vague idea he’d seen this Celican somewhere before but knew it wasn’t here so… “Excuse me, sir,” he said genially.

The Celican looked at him. He blinked once, then broke into a wide smile. “A Cervidian! In security! That’s something the public would love!” He put the pencil to his teeth. “And the cyber antlers are a nice touch. Not totally sure it’s leading character but…”

“Can I help you,” Hadrian repeated, trying not to sound confused or irritated, despite the fact he was both. “Or, to put it another way, who are you?”

“Oh.” The Celican demurred. “They didn’t tell you? I’m, uh, Caldan Ravel, Author. I got a research thing going on for my next book. It’s totally backed by the Council hierarchy. I aim to be positive towards you lot, y’see?”

“Right,” Hadrian demurred. He’d been pretty sure this was the newcomer warned of on the notices but now he was fairly sure. “Five in the morning’s probably not the best time to be wandering around a warship unescorted, Mister Ravel. Even if you are just taking notes. I’ll escort you to the refreshment area closest to Security.” He leaned in almost enjoying how he towered over the predator. “Best place to catch impertinent conversation, the refreshment areas. Plus you want to be close enough that Chief Yarkin can find you when she decides what to do with you, hmm?” he noted the slight change in the Celican’s attitude as he mentioned the Chief. The brief flinch as a hand went to tighten a tie he wasn’t wearing on a shirt he didn’t have. “It’ll let you taste the food we have to put up with too,” Hadrian added, leading on. “There’s a ship in the patch with a professional chef. This isn’t that ship.”

Caldan sighed. “All replicated?”

“There’s a store where you can buy stuff for self cooking if you want. Then you can use the kitchen in your quarters.”

Caldan stopped. “I don’t have a kitchen in my room. Is that something only the Officers get?”

“You know that closet door between the bedroom and the shower room?”

“Yup,” the author said, dodging past a Mican technician.

“It’s not a closet.”

“Oh,” he finished, thinking of adding an interest in cooking to his hero.


<”Ready,”> Senny asked Jink as the Feline carried the drill back to the shuttle again.

<”And more than willing, Senny,”> Jink replied. <”And no comments that Jinx it. Yes, I’ve heard all the jokes that I want to.”>

<”I’m sure I could think of some,”> Senny replied, closing the door as the munitions expert settled back in. She activated ship to ship after repressurising the cabin and removing her helmet. “Shuttle ‘Twitcher’ to Rodomont. We’re ready to head back to the barn.”

<”Heard and that shuttle’s NOT the ‘twitcher’,”> Postain snapped.

“You’re not the one flying it, Captain,” Senny replied. “Something’s off with the handling. I’ll need to work it later. On way.” She cut the line before he could reply. “He’ll make me suffer for that,” she told Jink as they engaged the engines and headed away from the blast zone. “Gonna blow them before or after we land?”

“Need to do it before,” Jink replied. “Something in that core means the signal strength’s already low.”

“Could the core be magnetic or something?”

“Possible. Not magnetism or we’d have had trouble with the drill but it could be generating a field we don’t normally scan for… Down to two bars.”

“Twitcher to Rodomont, we’re about to blow this thing. Get ready with the shields when we get there!” She shut the line again and nodded. Jink pressed the button and a quarter of the asteroid blew apart in several directions as Senny sped for the big ship’s protection.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

That makes a lot of sense with how we have seen Hawle run his ship. Once again on this chapter, nice work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

I will admit that this diversion in plot is, at this point, something of an 'oxbow lake', brought in when I had no real plan as to where the plot was headed. I developed more of an idea from after this point.

EIGHT

“I really wish we’d detonated that from inside the Rodomont,” Jink called as she heard pieces of asteroid panging off the shuttle’s shield systems. The vibrations weren’t helping either and were distorting her voice somewhat.

It didn’t seem to be affecting Senny’s deep voice too much as she spoke. “Exposing the core seems to have increased its magnetism,” she called. “It’s not enough to affect the Rodomont but… this shuttle ain’t the Rodomont. I’m having to adjust speed to keep us going forward right now.”

<”Rodomont to Verdant Dancer,”> Captain Postain’s voice said from the comms. <”We’ve monitored the situation. Do you need assistance?>”

“Negative, Rodomont. Although you might want to put some cushions against the shuttle bay walls. We’re coming in a bit faster than normal.” She closed the line so she could concentrate on hitting the small gap in the fuselage ahead that denoted the open bay. She kept her eyes open, despite the impulse to close them as they came in at a decidedly unsafe velocity. As soon as they came through the doorway, Senny slammed the ship into reverse to slow it down before gradually bringing it forward again. The cumulative effect was Jink falling forward against the ‘locked out’ co-pilot controls before being thrust back into her seat as the shuttle came within a nose hair of the bay wall.


“It’s a heavily magnetic core,” Tavin confirmed, having taken over from his subordinate, Kridd, at the science station. “It’s not on any periodic table I’ve encountered but it’s putting out radiation now it’s uncovered.”

“Kridd said it could be a bullet,” Postain told him as the Rodomont backed away from the asteroid. The Raitchian Packer Scientist had wanted his own look at the problem before applying the remote thrusters and the Captain preferred to do that from a safe distance. As far as he was concerned, the less radiation rose above the norm, the better.

“I can see why he might have thought that,” Tavin admitted. “Some years ago – and I’m talking decades or centuries here – it might have been.” He shook his caramel coloured head. “But it’s not a planet killer. This thing? It’s a metal ore of some sort, launched out into space for some reason but it’s not magnetic enough – nor fast enough – to do much damage to a planetary crust. It’s just not met anything big enough to stop it. Its’ magnetic effect drew smaller pieces of debris around the core and it grew. You ask those two. I’ll bet the gravity was near zero. My guess would be that it picked up debris from the asteroid field when it travelled through it. That’s what our initial scans showed. I’ll have the remote thrusters reconfigured to offset the effect in a few minutes Captain.”

“All this is the opposite to what Kridd inferred,” Xarra put in.

“Kridd didn’t have the information about the magnetic core and an interest in Geology.”

“You only got the information a moment ago.”

“Amazing how fast fact change, Commander. Mine might prove wrong later. It’s why people only tend to have ONE scientific advisor. Launching the drones.”


On the screen, a small flock of drones flew from the rear shuttle bay, close to Jul’s medical Office and flew towards the front of the asteroid. Normally they were used for emergency shuttle retrieval, where four of them would clamp on to a stranded ship and manoeuvre it back to the shuttle bay over thousands of miles This was a bit larger than a shuttle so Tavin had launched more than four. He’d launched all fifty. They swooped around, six cracking and flashing into nothing as they were hit by the still expanding sphere of debris. Three more malfunctioned under the magnetic effect and more threatened to join them until Tavin adjusted their energy output to match the core. The Raitchian looked to Postain until he gave the order. He hit the button. Nothing appeared to happen after the signal was relayed by a drone that hadn’t passed around to the other side.

“Nothing’s happening,” Postain growled.

“Oh, it is, sir,” Tavin corrected. “It’s slowing fractionally. A web of compact cars is trying to stop a freewheeling juggernaut, sir. It’ll take time to show a meaningful effect.”

“How long?”

“Hours? Days?” Tavin shrugged. “Might be an idea to tell command so they can get some other ships out here to do it?”

Postain grumped silently for a moment. “Fair enough. I’ll contact Command.”


With Enzo acting as a cut grade nurse, Doctor Jul tended to Jink, lying her carefully on the scanning bed before starting up the scanner. “Lie still, Lieutenant,” he ordered. “Let the machine scan you.”

“I’m feeling fine, Doctor.”

“You can’t always tell with whiplash, Lieutenant. I’ll be running through standard stuff in a bit but this machine can rule out fractures arthritis and lots of other stuff before you even know it’s there. Even in a feline,” he added, more to Enzo than to the Lieutenant. He looked over to where Senny was stood. “Sit down,” he told her. “I don’t need a stroppy statue. I’ll be doing the same whiplash checks with you after her.”

“I didn’t bang my head,” Senny protested.

“Then sit for the other reason. A very physically imposing Castoran is watching me over my shoulder. I’m not Flakk. I can be intimidated.” Senny sat. “Pass me the medipad, Enzo,” Martin remarked, holding out his hand until the boy stepped over to the sofa and got the padd. Martin could have called up the results on the main screen but he wanted Enzo to be useful rather than just watch. “OK,” he confirmed, “the computer’s showing nothing.”

“I said I was fine,” Jink complained from inside the machine.

“I never listen to my patients medical claims,” Martin replied, pulling the bed out and helping the Feline sit up. He took a small penlight from his pocket to check pupil reaction was normal. She swiped at the light, as Felines tended to. He turned it off and ran through checks on her neck and muscles. He let Enzo use the reflex hammer on the lower extremities. It made the boy smile. “OK,” he said eventually, “you appear to be clear. Get some rest. Call the medbay in the morning… the real morning if you need to. And get off the bed.” As she got off, Martin pointed to the bed. “Your turn, Mrs Appleby,” he challenged.

Reluctantly, very reluctantly, Senny slouched over to have her good health confirmed. Then, she thought, back to bed.


This time Enzo gave the hammer a little twirl before checking Senny’s reflexes. It made her smile. Slightly.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I have to say it works if it will be entertaining. So I'm sure it will work! Great chapter!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

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NINE

The Rodomont was back on its original course, headed for the asteroid field after Postlethwaite arranged for a pair of ships to be sent to ‘detain’ the magnetic rock they’d discovered. A science vessel and the ‘old girl’, the Bellaphron as she was the only ship in the zone big enough to take the thing on board at ease. The old explorer ship was significantly bigger than a normal ship of the line because they were supposed to spend years in deep space and, even though it was now a museum ship, the Osiran Commander kept her ready to help. Now she was doing some heavy lifting again. So the Rodomont was back to her main mission, seeing if they were getting close to a war footing with a race they’d not encountered for a decade who had technology they knew nothing about. In reality, Marius Postain wasn’t that much happier to be doing this than he had been doing that but, with the exception of the occasional vidcall, he’d pretty much given up on being happy when he was on duty.


So he sat in his office, eating what passed for breakfast today. Replicated toast and jam with spiced butter and Tassellian Tea. There was never, he thought, anything worthwhile in a day that involved studying rocks. That was why he’d made sure Xarra had had to do it during his holiday. She’d been scanning whilst he’d been sunning. Now it was his turn. Her revenge perhaps? Still, it was important.


Darren Levan woke up and wondered why his arm was so heavy. A glance to his side reminded him of why and he shifted to be chest to chest with her before she woke up. He reached over and tickled her side playfully. She sleepily batted his hand and he grinned as her eyes opened with a ‘waitaminute’ expression in them. He could feel her pulse through his chest and it levelled back to its’ normal as her brain worked out where she was and with who. “What’sthe time,” she asked, stunning him slightly. He’d not quite expected those to be her first words.

“Uh, seven,” he told her.

“I need to get up,” she told him. “Onthe jobat eight.” She gave him a peck on the mouth before adding ‘lover’ to her line.

He kissed her back. “I guess last night was a success?”

Kerri pulled back in the bed and gave him a mock salute. “Always wantedto be a Guinea pig,” she told him before lapsing into laughter. “Upfor the crew cinematonight? I hearthey’ve gotthe new Fastaff Killstar thriller.”

Darren gestured to the vid system. “We could get it on that.”

“Ah, butthat’s not communal,”

He rolled his eyes and kissed her again. “OK. If you insist. I’ll enjoy it,” he admitted, “but mostly for you, yeah?”

“I’ll takeit,” Kerri said before getting out and slinking over to the shower room.

Darren flopped onto his back, closed his eyes and thought of last night until she returned, threw a towel at him and told him to get in there. He poked his head back around the door as she dressed. “Wait a minute,” he complained, “these are my quarters!”

She grinned as she pulled her underwear up. “Wonderedif you’dgetit,” she told him.


Chief Yarkin strode into her office for the eight o’clock briefing with her senior officers and wondered who’d told the Celican that this was the hour. He was there, lurking in the background but still standing out like a beacon due to the fact he wasn’t wearing anything more than the Celican average. “OK, people,” she told the group, “if you haven’t noticed the orange in the room, it’s name is Caldan Ravel. It’s trying to be a successful author and is here to gain background for a new character. Some nit at Command thinks he’ll be good PR so we have to put up with him until it’s decided he’s a nuisance and we get to offload him. Like that reporter we recently offloaded. Yeah,” she agreed, “lose one, get another. Right.” She consulted the lists. “Akers, Passabin, take the shop area today. Apparently there’s been a bit of low level theft from the premises. Probably to do with the school being on holiday. Prevent, Investigate, Detain and, if needed, send the parents to me.” She went on, down the list, assigning officers to sectors and levels, patrol routes and stations. “Jak, you and Gelligan get the pilots.” She looked up as Jak moaned. “Well, they like you! The Barmican says trouble drops twenty percent in there when you’re around! I never expect much trouble there in the morning but you lessen it so you’re going.”

“Of course, Chief,” Hadrian agreed.

The Canine next to him, Gelligan, raised his Collian head to Jak’s ear. “Does she know it’s only ‘cause they like your singing,” he whispered.

“I’ll take whatever advantage I can get,” Jak muttered back. “Even shanties!”


The teams assigned headed out to their assignments, leaving Yarkin and Ravel alone in the office. “It must be odd, having a Cervidian in the forces,” the author tried as the Chief readied her work station.

“Not half as odd as having an author buzzing around,” she stated. “You might want to put more clothes on, by the way. Last thing anyone needs on a starship is to stand out.”

He preened. “So, you admit I stand out, eh?” A chuckle. “I would but… Your guy Jak found me wandering the passageways at 5. I, er, told him I was looking for you…” He reached a hand around to scritch the back of his neck. “I, er, didn’t want to tell him I forgot which room was mine.”

“Right,” Yarkin ordered, “that makes that the first decision of my day.” She consulted the directory and stood up. “You’re with me, wannabe. First stop, medical bay.”


Doctor Flakk looked up as Yarkin stepped into the room and sniffed at the thing following her. “Who’s the pretty boy,” he asked. “Your new fling?”

“Author doing research, Doc.”

“You’re not foisting him on me,” Flakk growled, trimming a claw from a Raitchian that had broken and started turning inwards. “Claw’ll be fine in a day or so,” he told the female as he put her boot back on. “Try not to walk on it.”

“How do I get about then,” she asked.

“Hop,” he replied as a nurse came over with a crutch. “Or use that.”

“Couldn’t you have used a speed heal treatment,” Caldan asked as the injured crew member made her way past him. He couldn’t help but hear the appreciative murmur as she took in his chest on her way past and the corners of his muzzle turned upwards slightly.

“Why waste the power,” the Wolf grumped. “Plus the feel of a little pain might encourage her not to do it again! Right, Yarkin, what do you want?”

“Status report on the overnights and a shirt for show-off here.”


Morning rounds went on as the ship arrived in the belt.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Not a bad chapter at all here! Keep on writing this story!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TEN

The minutes passed like hours and stretched into days on the bridge as the science department carried out their scans and ran their theories. Stellar Cartography was taking their measurements and directions to try and concentrate on the direction the bolt or whatever was believed to have come from. There was little to nothing for the bridge crew to do and Postain wasn’t one for small talk. He was checking crew reports on a padd right now and Xarra wasn’t keen to ask him how his leave had gone. He’d been back the best part of twelve hours now and he’d barely said anything to her that wasn’t about work. Then again, she recalled, he’d only talked about BAD personal experiences to Mikkel Rhew when he’d been the first Officer so it presumably meant things had gone fine and shut up about it, what’s personal is personal and the bridge is a location for professionals. She couldn’t really argue with that but scanning over a field of rocks wasn’t exactly the most interesting way to spend the morning. She had a crew evaluation to do in half an hour. She never liked those but was quite looking forward to it today as, without the default beeps manufacturers built into consoles for comfort and the slight hiss the aircon gave off for a similar reason, the bridge was completely silent.


Postain tapped the ‘next’ button on the screen and advanced the page on the novel Chich had given him. It was quite an odd one for a politician to recommend to a military boyfriend, he reckoned. A romantic literature story that he knew was going to end up with the ‘chalk’ Doctor ending up with the ‘cheese’ funeral director from their first argument. He had to admit he hadn’t quite expected them to consummate their relationship in the back of the hearse with the animals that normally pulled it watching but, he supposed, sex sells. Even in Mican books. He was thankful he’d chosen to gift her the Canine military based thriller rather than anything more real to life and regretted mentioning to her that they were having an author ‘tag along’ for a few weeks as that’s what had set all this off.


Was he hitting on her, Yarkin wondered as the self-same author stepped into his room to take off the stained shirt Flakk had found and replace it with something less fashionable than ‘hint of blood’. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Sure, he was good looking but he was young enough to be her son… No, she told herself, stick THAT where the sun doesn’t shine. He was young enough to be the slightly younger brother that, just like a son, she didn’t have. She’d always been an only girl, apple of her mother’s eye and loved by dad, especially after she went down the Law enforcement line. He’d never spoiled her as much as mum had and he’d taken it to mean that she knew things could never always go her way. He’d encouraged her adventurous side, taking her riding and parasailing and kayaking whilst her mother had sorted out the flying lessons and the ride alongs with her beat cop compatriots. He was quite handsome, she told herself after bringing her thoughts back to the author, but she had responsibilities and he was only going to be here a fortnight under current plan so it was completely impossible that… She preened slightly, flexing her shoulders under her shirt and jacket as a totally unprofessional thought entered her head. She glanced around in near embarrassment as his door opened to reveal him in a tee-shirt and slightly longer shorts.


Wandering around the corner from Yarkin, Harmony Appleby kept her smile to herself so as not to worry the others in the passage as to what she’d just been doing and whether or not it was quite naughty. Honestly, though, she thought as she nibbled a breakfast pastry, what had the chief expected, leaving her thoughts all open like that? She was just asking to be played with. Harmony had stayed up since Senny had gone out this morning, keeping a mental eye on her mate’s mind, just making sure she wasn’t in too much distress during the action. It was something she did and Senny had kissed her for it when she’d gotten back. She’d known all about it, of course. She’d not been too happy the first time but they’d gotten over that quickly. Senny saw the advantages in keeping calm in a stressful situation and understood that, without helping, it was Harmony who’d be going out of her head with worry. Plus, of course, Senny knew Harmony couldn’t do it over a large distance or when there was too much confusion going on.

The telepath stopped off in the shop to buy some fish for tea before slipping into her little office to examine the latest reports from around the sector. She finished off her breakfast as she sat down behind her computer and activated it. The mail reminding her that she’d just bought a fish was in her E-mail and she set it to remind her audibly later before running down the information that had some importance. Most of the information, she told herself as she pulled a claw file out to do a little work on her foot claws, was exactly the same as the reports Yarkin would have but agents often included information on local cases that they thought might end up involving them, even if the criminal was just going to hop planets or something. So she often got information on frauds, murders and heists before they were, officially, brought up to Council levels. So she read the reports as the general humdrum of the ship floated across her mind. Her video window showed her outside despite the face she was in the middle of the ship. It was boring, she thought. Perhaps she should change it? She reached out a hand and ran through the options. Savannah? Nah, too green. Seascape? Senny didn’t like it. It wasn’t a river. The sky scene always made her worry about falling to her death, which was odd considering she lived in a space bound tin can that was always at least five hundred miles from the surface of any planet. She scrolled through all the options but couldn’t find one she liked so turned it back to the view that had sciences excited.


Darren Levan definitely wasn’t having anything close to the time of his life, studying the computers as they analysed the remnants of the field. As he’d been the one unfortunate enough to spot the problems yesterday, the section chief had detailed him with this vitally important task in collation. Darren didn’t know if it was revenge or respect and it was tamping down his bright mood as he sat here. Rocks and minerals didn’t hold a candle to Kerri and… well, everything about her. He’d spent years looking to be brave enough to be with a girl… lady, he corrected. He’d arrived singing… well, humming an hour or so back and he couldn’t remember the tune now. He forced himself to focus. They were looking for energy signatures and impact points and gawdsalone knew what else to determine if something had happened to this little planetoid. Beyond exploding, of course.

He changed the position of the scanners to cover a new point in the belt with pinpoint accuracy. And jumped as it beeped.

“A power source,” he asked the empty room.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Good luck getting the empty room to answer you back. :lol: Nice work on this chapter!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Poor Darren. He's 'regretting' being promoted to a main character. It means things happen to him...

ELEVEN

“So how do I end up being the one doing this,” Flying Officer Katz asked rhetorically as he piloted the shuttle into the middle of the field. His fingers adjusted course to take the ship between the slow moving rocks of the belt and looked back on the Celican who’d asked the question. “And do you want help attaching those clamps, Darren?”

“You probably should check them, I suppose,” Darren allowed, shifting his suited form to the co-pilot’s seat and the human checked over the suit to make sure it was ready to be sealed correctly. “You lot are lucky you don’t have to fit tails in these things,” he mock complained.

“The generic, muzzled, helmets are pretty annoying, though,” Katz replied. “And you didn’t answer my question about why I’m doing this.”

“Doctor Flakk refused the request to have Senny do it,” Darren told him, reluctant to admit he hadn’t been listening earlier. “Says she’s under observation after that earlier landing. You were next on the list.”

The Human sighed and got back to his console to zero in on the power source Darren had picked up twenty minutes ago. They’d locked it in on the sensors as a red dot on the screen so he could see where to aim for.


For his part, Darren blamed the computer. When he’d reported that someone needed to go and investigate/recover the power source to Commander Xarra, the Mican had gone away, come back and stated Postain’s reply was that as so much of this was Darren’s fault anyway, HE could go and get this oddity. He was, after all, trained in zero-G activities, wasn’t he? It had been one course, seven years ago. And he’d thrown up every time. Thankfully, never into his helmet. They were having to use the shuttle because the field was a little too thick for the Rodomont to get a good look at what was sending out the faint signal. They should be able to see it from where they were soon and…


“Is it me,” Darren asked, “or does that look like a computer bank to you?” He pointed to something small on the screen.

Katz zoomed in on the system and had to agree that yes, it did look rather like the central computer in the Rodomont. “It might answer a question or two,” he advised.

“I’m aware,” Darren retorted, his mind spinning wheels. “Are there any other signs of a ship around here?”

“I’ll scan,” Katz commented before coming back with a comment a few minutes later. “There’s some residues here, yeah,” he drawled. “Looks like a small ship detonated here. Some of the closest asteroids are showing damage and traces of metal.”

Darren slipped back into the co-pilot’s seat, away from the door he’d been thinking of heading for. “It’s feasible,” he said “that… Never mind.” he shook his head. “We’re doing too much speculating with scant evidence today.” He stood up again. “I’d better go get that computer, hadn’t I?”

“Careful out there,” Katz replied as Darren attached the lifeline harness and closed his helmet.

With the main section depressurised, Darren opened the door and looked at the objective, hanging frozen in space in the light of distant stars. He activated the lights atop his helmet to make things clearer before he forced himself to let go of the door frame and leap out into the void full of rocks. Katz had brought the shuttle within a few miles of the wreckage and Darren used what passed for Celican interests to calculate the angle of his jump towards it. He corrected his angle with a tiny shot from his port thruster, followed, a second or two later, by a stabilizing shot from his starboard. It was the panel on his back that contained the thrusters he was using. It was a square strapped on with starboard, port, up, down and forward thrusters on it and the reverse thruster on the strap buckle to the front. Darren hated it. It usually left him spinning like a top gone mad. This time, though, he had to engage the reverse thruster for a few seconds or he’d slam right into the target. It was definitely the right place. He could see that now. It was indicating on his helmet’s Heads-up display. He grasped hold of the edge and imagined he could feel the extreme cold under his fingers. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. He worked on pulling himself, ever so gently, to the far side of the console and held on. “OK,” he said, “you can start retracting now.” He closed his eyes. Nothing happened.

<”Can’t hear you, Darren,”> Katz said in his helmet. <”You haven’t turned your speaker system on. Can you do it now?”>

Darren cursed himself, then adjusted the speaker so he could broadcast. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

<”It happens,”> the Human replied. <”You in position?”>

“Absolutely,” Darren replied, grimacing and holding on to his stomach for what was coming.

Katz engaged the retrieval system and Darren gripped on as the first effect was to spin him around. He stretched as the effect took full grip on him and a slower, heavier, effect on the console. He felt his arms stretching as the console tried to stay where it was but, after a few minutes – seconds in reality – the thing started moving after him. <”Not throwing up yet, Darren,”> Katz asked as the retrieval gained speed.

“Hah, hah,” Darren grumped as the pull increased. “Remember to slow us down, won’t you?”

<”I don’t do that,”> Katz advised him. <”I can’t slow you. You do it.”>

That was the part Darren had known was coming. He had to judge when to engage the forward thrust to counteract the fact he was heading backwards quite fast and didn’t know exactly when he needed to his the button. He wasn’t sure he could do this but… <”I’ll tell you when,”> Katz added, lightening the pressure on Darren’s nerves considerably. He still might need to clean the suit later. <”Fifty percent,”> Katz told him. <”In three, two, one… Now!”> Darren hit the thrust and slowed his reverse by lurching his stomach and the rest of his body forward. He was still going backwards but now he was being squashed against the console. He was beginning to feel ill.


“You got it,” Postain asked rhetorically, standing in the launch bay as the shuttle landed and deposited the console attached to its side by cabling.

“Yessir,” Darren said, taking his helmet off as he dashed for the bathroom.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

It can't be anything worse than what I try to convince you to do to Hawle. Though I sometimes thinks he likes doing that to himself. :P Anyway wonderful work here!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWELVE

“So,” Postain asked of the Lemurian, “what is it?”

The person he was talking to, Whilmot of the I.T. department, pushed himself out from under the console. “It’s a console,” he said. “Anything else is supposition.” He pulled himself back under.

“I kno…” Postain caught on to the inference. “Any clue as to when you’ll be able to get it working?”

“Nope,” Whilmot replied, his voice echoing in the hollow underneath the raised platform. “If I were to make a supposition,” he added, “I’d say it was constructed to survive explosive damage. It bears the scars. I’m not that interested in those,” he confided. “I’m looking to see if I can turn it on. That’s why I’m in the isolation lab. The beacon had its own power source. It’s only just become warm enough to touch with uninsulated gloves.”

“How long’s it been there?”

The Lemurian pulled himself out again and stood up. “How would I know? It doesn’t have a sticker on it with a ‘last checked by’ date on it, sir. It might have been there eighteen months or a thousand years. It’s not covered with lumps of planetoid, though, so I think we can it wasn’t there before the planetoid blew up.”

Postain fumed. Sciences were so slow on occasions and never seemed to answer a straight question as quickly as he wanted. “Report by the end of the day,” he stated as he strode out.


“...where the grass is green/and the skies are toooooo….” Hadrian Jak finished, putting the karaoke microphone back on the stand as the recorded music finished playing. He stood up to the smattering of applause from the early lunchers in the Starwheel and performed a theatrical bow, putting his hand to his stomach and bending thirty degrees. He stepped off the ‘stage’ and headed back across to where Gelligan was resting against the wall. “Much happen,” he asked.

“Does it ever when you’re up there,” the Canine asked. “It’s interesting, hearing you sing those notes.”

“Why,” Hadrian asked, sipping his water as a Feline went up to mangle a Celican hunting ballad.

“It usually takes a Doe to hit that high,” he remarked, before quaffing his own drink.

Hadrian laughed. “Pro training, Kona. Mom was into it. I wasn’t quite so much…” He noted the wry grin on his friends face. “No, not another ‘refusing to follow the herd’ joke.”

Gelligan looked the height of innocence. “Who, me?”

“Put those ears down, you’re not shocked.”

“I absolutely re… Oop, my turn,” he said as things started to get a little rowdy at one of the tables. The Canine moved over to placate people before he needed to arrest them.



Postain made a decision. He wasn’t intending to wait any longer. He stepped out onto the bridge and was giving out orders as he strode to his chair. “Bartleby,” he told the Lappinean helm officer, “plot a course for the Star Council and take us away from here.”

“Aye, sir,” she replied, twisting her left ear back around to face front as she accessed the details on the charts and programmed them in, waiting only for authorisation.

“How’d it go in the isolation lab,” Xarra asked patiently.

Postain didn’t speak with his voice but the look he gave her spoke volumes. Practically shouted them, in fact. She’d tried to tell him they’d need longer than a few hours but he’d insisted and, effectively, over-ruled her. She hoped her smile was just internal.

“Ready to apply, sir,” Bartleby said, cutting the tension. “At your command.”

“At least something here is,” he grumbled, tightening his grip on his arm rests. “Engage,” he said in a louder tone. “Velocity one.”


The tortoiseshell-furred Lappinean hit a button or two and the viewscreen started to slowly turn away from the field of rocks (that the Captain didn’t know she’d copied as her personal padd background) and tried not to sigh as the normal, boring, star field took its place. She kicked it up to velocity one and tried not to think about lunch, which was coming in an hour or so. The idea of a Kelkaburger did have some pull on her mind since she’d tried one a few weeks ago at the behest of Potter on the evening shift. Thanks to a Canine on her grandfather’s side her system could tolerate meat but, until she’d tried that burger, she’d never found one she actually liked. Perhaps it was the sauce? “Two hours to the border, sir.”

“Going a bit slow, sir,” Xarra queried.

“Not in a great hurry,” Postain responded. “It’ll take us several days to go through from here at this velocity. Might as well give our scientists time to work things out. And we’ll see what we see in the space between ours and theirs. One of the purposes of this space fleet was to explore, Xarra. We’ve done none of that over the last few years bar a few toepokes like the Loper’s mission. WE now have an excuse to do some little of that.” He looked at her straight and she could swear she actually saw the mania of enthusiasm in those eyes. The hint of a hopeful smile on his face. And she reckoned he was probably right. “Or are you happy just checking out rocks and patrolling the space lanes for pirates who, from what our Pirate tells us, are now actually on our side?” The humour vanished. “In one respect anyhow.”

“I see your point,” Xarra remarked sagely. “Shall we drop the writer off first? Before we ‘go beyond’, as it were?”

Postain thought. “No. Like Appleby, he’s a civilian. He might see paths we don’t. Could be important.”

“More likely irrelevant,” Xarra replied.

“Still.”


Yarkin sat watching two twelve year old children and tutted down the seconds until their parents arrived. They were behind security fields in the brig and she was in her office as the Feline and Canine bickered. She didn’t have the sound on.

“Is it always like this,” Caldan asked from the far corner.

“How do you mean?”

“Boring. Nothing going on.”

She snorted a laugh. “Trust me, when it comes to action, you’ll long for the boring. Look, this is a closed society so very little high crime ever really happens. No crimes of passion. I think I’ve dealt with one murder in my time and about five full assaults. With nowhere to escape to, people think twice before committing crimes. We’re mainly here to prevent fights and repel armed intruders tying to kill everyone on the ship. Those are the exciting parts.” She glanced at him. “Still wanting the excitement? Look, you want to make your hero a Security Officer? Do me a favour, eh?”

“What?”

“Make him a real one. Not a gung-ho type. Those only sell to fools, Caldan.”

He nodded sagely as the parents came in to collect their little shoplifters. “Point taken,” he said as they demanded to know why their children were there. He watched as the parents each proceeded to blame the others until Yarkin slapped the desk.

“Look,” she snapped, “it’s not hard to blame everyone else but they need to be aware that this is not something they’re allowed to do! I’m hoping some time in the cells might JUST get the case across but you four need to be the ones dealing with it! I wouldn’t ban them from seeing each other, by the way. Closed society. They can’t avoid each other. We do have a therapist. I think you might want to consider sending them to him.” She thumbed towards the cells. “They get in there again and I won’t be able to stop senior officers knowing about it.” She sat down again and gave them a hooded look. “Today’s ‘fun’ has not been recorded but it will be remembered.” She let the still furious parents into the cell area and released the fields as Caldan noted down that last line for use.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I really enjoyed what you have put up! Awesome!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

THIRTEEN

It stood before them. An invisible, intangible barrier that pulled at the emotions of the bridge crew looking at it. To the emotionless, it just looked like more space but, to them, it was the edge of knowledge, the step into the absolute unknown. It ws the time of speeches and recordings, stirring words and… “Screw it,” Postain said, “keep going.” He looked to Xarra as the battleship pushed forward, expanding the list of things known. “It’s just a line on a map,” he shrugged. “Maldak, drop buoy number one.”

“Aye, sir,” The Quokkan replied, sending the signal down through the ship to where engineering would release the small satellite. She checked that they could pick up the test signal from Talvary Station and made sure she kept it on sensors. She had it linked to part of her console full time as she was quite busy listening to the swirl of absolute silence being picked up by the forward sensors. Nothing was coming from outside the ship so it was as quiet as she’d ever known it without the tramping of boots on the floor behind her. Just someone going from terminal to terminal. She glanced around. “Receiving signal, nice and clear, sir,” she stated.

“Good,” Postain grumped. “Bartleby, keep an eye out for any interesting planets or moons on our path.”

“Of course, sir.”

Xarra settled back into her chair. “Should I make up the first landing team,” she enquired with a touch of cheekiness, “Or shall I leave it to you, sir?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied without much conviction.

“Of course.”


Time passed at its’ usual slow rate for Kerri as she worked on conduits and power lines, keeping the ship tip top and Bristol fashion – whatever that meant. She’d worked with a Human earlier this morning and she’d said that but hadn’t stated what it meant. It had bugged Kerri all afternoon, an eternity for her species, and she wondered if she should ask Darren about it later. He had a Human mother so he might know about it. But, according to her wrist comm, the ship had just passed from Council space. She’d known it was coming but now they were as far as they’d ever been from replacement parts and metals so everything needed to be operating at a hundred and ten percent so she pulled herself up the conduit to the next level and started scanning the next terminal. Hello, she told herself, it was showing a bit hot. She patted her comm. “Engineeringto medbaytwo,” she said.

<”Unknown command,”> the computer chirped.

Kerri gnashed her teeth and tried again, slowing down to separate her words and she got through.

<”Nurse Teelak here,”> said the voice at the other end. <”what’s up?”>

“Nothingvital,” Kerri gabbled. “Just gettinga power surge showing here. Gonna need to deal with it. You’ll lose power to your diagnostic bed for about ten minutes.”

<”Understood,”> the Nurse said. <”Fast as you can, please.”>

It was always ‘as fast as you can’, Kerri grumbled to herself as she turned the link off. It was never ‘do the best job’ or ‘take your time’. Everyone wanted the best job possible and never gave them the time to do it. She plugged her screwdriver in and removed the affected circuits. “Ow,” she said, dropping it after trying to pick it up. It was hot. Really hot. She half imagined it burning through her trousers as it rested against her knee. “They’renot supposedto do that,” she opined before looking through her toolkit for the identical circuit. She put it in position and hit ‘reverse’ on the screwdriver to affix it firmly to the board. She replaced the cover and commed the rear medical bay to tell them their bed was operational again before picking the hot circuit up with a pair of pliers and plinking it into a glass container. She wanted a look at this thing later. Something was off. She moved on, down the conduit.


Doctor Cobalt looked up as one of the engineering section was brought in with something of a limp. She nipped over with her nurse and took the unfortunate Canine from his friend to sit him on the bed. “What happened to you,” she asked him.

“Slipped on a step and fell off a ledge in engineering,” he replied. “Ow. Not… exactly built like a Feline, eh?”

She pushed the Corgan down onto the bed so she could run her little scanner over the affected lime. “Don’t worry, Iones,” she told him, “Felines still land on the same extremities. And not always with the grace for which they’re famed.” The scanner beeped to confirm it had checked over the affected area. “Well, that’s a sprained ankle,” she told him. “Let’s just deal with it.”

“Oh,” the Canine remarked, “can’t you deal with it alone while I just lie here?”

“Just for that…” Cobalt warned, strapping the Canine to the table, “...I do this the fun way. This’ll be a bit cold…” She pulled on a disposable glove and took a pot of goop from a shelf. She dipped the gloved hand into it and slapped the goop onto the wound. He jumped with the extreme cold now attached to his limb but the straps held so he couldn’t move. She kept her hand where it was as the numbing effect masked the medication getting to work on the sprain, speeding the healing .

“You’re… you’re nasty,” Iones breathed, wondering why his breath wasn’t coming out in wisps of steam “But… but I th...think you’re charming.” His teeth chattered. “You… know wh-wh-what they say? ‘Cold h-hands, warm h-h-heart?’”

“You just have to keep punning, doncha,” Cobalt grinned, keeping her grip tight as the healing worked. “You’ll be hobbling for an hour or so. If you got a lunch break coming, take it.”

“Bit late for… that, Doc,” Iones stammered. “It’s three O’clock.”

“Where DOES the time go,” Kelly asked rhetorically before releasing the pressure. “Hobble off or sit there and drink machine coffee,” she told him as the Nurse put the goop away. She pulled the glove off and put it in the disintegrator. It fizzed away to nothing. “The coffee’s bog standard,” she advised, “but you won’t have to move.”

Iones decided to take her up on the offer. It wasn’t the fact that he liked Coffee, it was just that his throbbing ankle meant he didn’t want to move.


A faulty part does not make a conspiracy, Kerri’s tutor had told her several times but this was definitely a defective part and she’d found three of them in the last hour so she’d taken them to the acting Engineering Chief and they’d promised to have them analysed as soon as possible and well done for spotting them and they’d send out the notifications that all the circuits needed checking asap. She had the feeling that the Micans and Shrewvians in the engineering crew weren’t about to thank her any time soon. The conduits were cramped for the larger species and tight enough that some of the smaller ones got claustrophobia. She supposed she’d better get back to it. But first a doughnut.


“You’re sure,” Postain demanded.

“About ninety percent,” Maldak replied. “It could just be interference but I am picking up a signal, sir.”

“Let’s go have a look,” he decided.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Hope that they will find something interesting. Can't wait to see what the results are!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FOURTEEN

Maldak turned around in her chair and watched the main screen as the helm changed the picture from stars to stars plus something else. She’d picked up the signal an hour back and alerted the bridge. It had been faint but insistent and almost directly on their route so the Captain had ordered them to divert. There wasn’t a system here, she noted, just a void with something small on the screen. Well, small being subjective. They were at extreme range right now, some six hours away from it at current speed.. Things were going to get closer quite quickly. The Quokkan knew the Captain and knew he was going to order an increase in speed to velocity three or four. They had maybe an hour to prepare.


Hadrian Jak sat back and read lines as Simone emoted her heart out in preparation for rehearsals tomorrow. She wasn’t exactly playing the lead female in the drama – that had gone to Rosella in biochemistry but she was one of the leading second parts after coming through the ranks of the one line wonders. “But I’m certain you’ve never been here before,” Hadrian read, quite flatly.

Simone – or, rather, her character – looked at him with imploring eyes. “But I remember this room,” she said before reaching an arm towards him. “I remember the smells of the grass and the touch of the walls! I’ve run with the best here and they’ve run with me! I know this… this…” She straightened up and smacked her hips in exasperation.

“Hmm? Oh,” Jak said, suddenly paying attention. “Sorry. Uh… this sepulchre of the senses as though it was just yesterday that Pinta and I escaped…” He flicked back to the front cover of the document. “Who wrote this? Oh, Carkha. It’s a bit of a shift from his usual style, isn’t it?”

“Not that Carkha, Hadrian,” Simone replied. “Lieutenant Carkha from Engineering. He’s looking to get into scriptwriting.”

“He could do with less flowery prose,” Hadrian opined. “People tend to hate that, even if it is delivered well.” He looked up. “He could talk with our guest author, of course.”

Simone sat down next to her husband. “Our what?”

Hardian shrugged an arm around her shoulders. “Got an author on board, doing research. A Celican called Ravel.”

“Ravel? Caldan Ravel?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“Nope,” Simone replied, trying - and failing - to hide a smirk at her joke as Hadrian’s comm beeped for his attention. “On your evening off,” Simone complained as he answered it.


Ten minutes later, Hadrian was suiting up, reducing his cyber antlers to nubs so he could fit them in the helmet and mentally turning them off so they didn’t explode through the top in a flash of fear. He’d been told they’d found a ship hanging in space, looking devoid of life. Commander Xarra was taking a team over to take a looksee with Corncob from Engineering joining three security Officers, the Commander and Palma from sciences on the team. The first time he’d met Corncob, he’d asked the FieldMican if that was really his name. Jak recalled he’d looked quite offended by that and had never brought it up again. He made his way over to the Commander. “Can you tell us anything about the ship,” he asked.

“Mostly that you’ll need to keep your head down, Hadrian,” she replied wryly. “There’s no life support over there so punctured helmets are out.”

“I’ve turned them off,” he replied.

“Good. Looks like the ship took some damage from something heavy striking the hull. Something that’s got a similar radioactive resonance to a certain meteorite we recently found.” She shrugged but he didn’t see it under her armour. “It could easily be co-incidence or they might have come from the same place. We dunno. So we’re going over to see what’s what.” She looked up as Doctor Flakk entered the room. “I don’t recall assigning medical to this mission,” she remarked.

“You would if you were thinking,” the Wolf grumbled. “Unless, of course, you want to bring any corpses you find back here for analysis?” He started hauling on armour. “Of course, I might have to do so anyhow but at least I can start examining them there.”

“If we find any,” Xarra challenged, knowing it was already settled that he was coming with them and had been ever since he’d decided he was going. She started sorting out her helmet and linking people on the heads up display and patching in the energy shotgun in the left arm. The others had their normal guns but she’d paid for the upgrade to internal weaponry. She lead the tramping to the shuttle bay for the transit over. “We’re not teleporting,” she advised, “because we can’t be totally sure of the layout over there. A docking port is a docking port however you go so we’ll be going for one seen on the starboard side.” She entered the shuttle control area and sat at the controls. “Make yourself comfortable,” she stated as she began launch preparations.

“But not too comfortable,” Corncob muttered, making sure he wasn’t sat next to Flakk. He recalled the last time in sickbay and exactly how well it had gone considering he’d spent the next day and a half within spitting distance of the bathroom. He made sure to keep Jak between them as the Cervidian seemed to have absolutely zero sense of self preservation.


The old girl Rodomont was grey in colour compared to the mid red tones of the alien ship and Xarra wondered if it came in other shades as she struck out for the observed port. “I don’t see any sign of weapons,” Flakk mentioned, casting his experienced eye over the hull from the co-pilot’s seat that he’d decided to move to as he had a better view from here and couldn’t hear Corncob’s teeth chattering with nerves so easily.

“Doesn’t mean they don’t have ‘em,” Xarra reminded him. “Or they could be like you Wolven. So danged uppity they don’t need them.”

“I’m not ‘uppity’,” Flakk growled. “I’m ‘tetchy’.

Again, Xarra shrugged an invisible shrug and put the ship towards the docking bay they’d noticed earlier.


She took it in at slow ahead, looking carefully around as they entered the hole, penetrating a thin energy layer that had Corncob thinking they were about to blow up. “Possibly an energy shield to keep some level of atmosphere in,” he reckoned.

“Still,” Xarra called back, “no taking chances. Seal up helmets and check co… What the..?” She looked back as something fell, hitting the front screen and slid off underneath.

“Congratulations,” Flakk mentioned. “You just made first contact. In a definite way.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I do so very much like the little details that you put in here Welsh! Wonderful work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Flakk. A loaf that's all crust, no bread.

FIFTEEN

With the shuttle setting down, Commander Xarra ran standard checks over the area they’d landed in. It gave all the appearance of an abandoned shuttle bay but the sudden appearance of a body had concerned her, especially with the way it seemed to have dropped onto the shuttles’ main screen. “It looks,” she said, “like there’s some amount of atmosphere in here.”

<”Does this mean we won’t need the helmets”> Jak asked.

<”Leave ‘em on,”> Flakk ordered. <”Atmosphere looks normal but we’ve no way of knowing if it’s exact. Better not to chance it. Thoughts on why it fell to the floor?”>

<”Well,”> Corncob said hesitantly, <”the system might have been turned off to conserve energy. The system detected us coming in through the barrier thingy...”>

“And turned the lights on,” Xarra finished. She shrugged. “It’s a working possibility. But it means we don’t need the magnetic boots turned on.” She swung around and stood up to head out.


The first step out onto the metal floor was only audible in her imagination, where it echoed through a dead ship, warning all and sundry monsters aboard that fresh prey had arrived to lure them from their slumber as in a million vid-films. She looked around. Two further figures had dropped in addition to the one they’d hit and the security contingent remained on alert. There didn’t look to be that much damage to the outside of the ship to have voided the atmosphere and, indeed, there was an atmosphere now, wasn’t there? So what had killed them? Flakk, for his part, pulled the corpse they’d hit over to get a better look at it in the light of the shuttles ‘headlamps’, which Xarra had left on for the task. The arm felt almost like it was going to snap off it was so stiff so Flakk gripped the muzzled form by the shoulders to move it. After asking Corncob to see if he could open the door, Xarra wandered back over to check on the fierce medic. He was crouched over the black, white and grey mottled figure. “Initial thoughts,” she asked.

“Are rarely worth anything,” Flakk told her. She didn’t hear him. He snorted and tapped her on the chest to turn her speaker on. “I hate comms,” he said before repeating his thoughts on initial thoughts. “He’s Humanoid…”

“Really,” Xarra asked, indicating the tail.

“It’s a catch all. Sounds better than Animoid as far as I’m concerned. He’s not Brockian or Mican or Wolven so I have to call him something. Two arms to hold things, two legs to walk on, a torso ad a head to think with. That’s their definition of Humanoid. Tails optional. From the lack of external wounding, I’d say something prevented him breathing. Whether that’s poison or asphyxiation is still to be determined but damage to the eyes might indicate the latter. The suit computer is running scans on the internal organs and I’ll take a blood sample as soon as he’s defrosted enough to take one.”

“He,” Xarra asked. Flakk lifted the front of what he assumed to be the trousers and pointed into them. “Right,” Xarra said, taking a peek despite herself.


“The door’s quite intuitive,” Corncob mentioned as he worked on opening the door he’d found in the wall. He’d attached cables from the arm to the panel he’d just opened and was working on re-routing the power to open it as Jak looked over from elsewhere in the bay. “It’s almost as like it’s trying to stop me opening it. If the Fauntleroy hadn’t brought back files on their programming systems all that time back, I’d have no chance.”

“So it’s the Star Council then,” Xarra asked.

“Or someone who’s taken the same programming base.”

“Uh, Corn,” Jak asked, holding on to something on the wall. “If that’s the door, what have I got over here?”

Corncob looked over. “How should I know. Looks like wall to me.”

“True, but it has a handle.”

“Don’t open it,” Xarra warned, crossing over. Wearing the command armour, her onboard systems weren’t as specialised as the other types but it had the rudimentary abilities of all of them so she attached a scanner to examine the handle and the section it was attached to. “Nothing detected,” she told them after a moment. “Anything from there, Corncob?”

The FieldMican glanced over as the section of the wall unlocked to reveal weapons and survival gear. “OK,” he admitted with chagrin, “I got the closet.”

“You got into a sealed weapons locker in under two minutes,” Flakk said, making Corncob jump as the Wolven was, somehow, right behind him. “It’s a skill to be admired. We should take some of these things for analysis back on the old crate.”

Xarra chuckled slightly. “Don’t let the Captain hear you call it that.” She directed the other two guards to use their discretion on samples for loading and gave them a few minutes to do it before opening the door Jak had found.


Jak led the way down the corridor towards where he assumed the bridge would be. Keeping his lunch down in a way he hoped Flakk would approve of, he stepped around several half frozen figures that lay broken on the floor from where they’d fallen. “Look at the ceiling,” Flakk advised and he did so. He could see vague, undefined, shapes up there. “It’s where their fur froze to the ceiling,” the Doctor remarked. “All of them,” he continued, “frozen to the ceilings. Interesting.”

“W...W...why so,” one of the security officers asked.

“Next time you’re preparing for a mission like this,” Flakk told her, “Come see me. I’ll give you something to control those nerves.”

“He means,” Jak interpreted, “that mostly decompressions get sucked out. These got sucked UP. It’s unusual.”

“Right. Plus the fact that the ship doesn’t appear that damaged anyhow. It’s just dead.”

“Cheery,” Corncob opined as they reached the bridge.

“Not as far as I thought,” Jak remarked, looking around at the grey consoles and white walls. He flinched as the lights lit up to full and consoles began to light up into noisy life. “Cobber, did you..?”

“Nope,” the Engineer remarked. “It must have been in ‘standby’ mode or something.” He gestured to a station. “If I were a bridge engineering station,” he told them, “that’s the one I’d be.”

“Set up then,” Xarra instructed. “See if you can find out what happened.”


Maldak frowned and looked at her panel in surprise. “Uh, Captain,” she said.

“Report,” Postain replied.

“The, uh, signal we were following? It’s just got more powerful sir. And it’s changed in tone and direction.”


“Well,” Corncob said hesitantly. “I’m in and… well, if the computer records can, uh, be believed..?”

“Yes,” Xarra prompted.

“The last thing the computer did before shutting down was, uh, evacuate all the atmosphere through the roof vents.” He pointed up. “The Computer killed them all.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

So you mean that Flakk is all talk but no substance? Anyway good job once more!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Bread's the soft bit in the centre. The crust is the tougher stuff. (OK, there's a bit of softer stuff in Flakk, but not much)

SIXTEEN

Captain Postain stood close behind Maldak as the Quokkan tried various frequencies to see if she could tap into the signal being sent out by the encountered vessel. Xarra had reported in immediately they’d worked out what had happened over there and he’d told her to come back immediately. She’d replied that Flakk didn’t think much of that idea. Without knowing more about how this thing worked, the Doctor felt they’d need to restrict themselves to quarantine isolation if possible and, until an area was set aside, over here was a fair place to stay.

“Ask him why,” Postain told Xarra, knowing only the Commander had a direct line to the ship through her helmet.

<”Wilco, sir,”> the Mican responded from the speaker. She came back on after a minute. <”He says there are only a few reasons he can think of for a computer killing its’ own crew. One’s a programmed trap. Another’s to prevent a contagion spreading off the ship. He wants to make sure it’s not that. Corncob’s doing his best to interrogate the computer to see what it says – indeed he’s just speeded up - but he says he’s not an IT specialist and the language doesn’t quite match.”>

“Can you work from close to the shuttle,” Postain asked as Maldak used the cartographical maps they had to locate the exact point the message was going to. It seemed to be a small planet some thirty light years from their current position but she couldn’t tell if it was hitting the planet or a relay buoy between the two. She figured she’d mention it to the Captain in a moment. When he was ‘off the phone’. She sent a copy through to Bartleby on the helm. The Tortie sent back a ‘thumbs up’ icon to indicate she’d got the idea.

<”CornCob needs to be here to access the computer.”>


Hadrian Jak wondered silently if they could leave Corncob there. The thought raised a smile on his face before he chided himself mentally for the thought. Like the others, he was still alert for sounds and motion other than theirs as they stayed in place in this… haunted castle. Every so often noises sounded from elsewhere in the ship, playing on the already exposed nerves despite the calm Wolf he called his friend telling them it was just the hardware reacting to the presence of an atmosphere again. Maybe it was the ‘flight or flight’ reaction so keen to Cervidians (the answer was, generally, always flight) or there really was something going on out there. Did they have things that could survive all this time in space? He’d seen vids that…

“Concentrate on what’s there, Hadrian,” Flakk advised, sensing what was going on. “No sense winding yourself up over nothing.”

Hadrian nodded, imperceptible under the helmet although the thing moved forward and back slightly. “It’s a bit eerie,” he confessed. “Found anything in their blood?”

“It’s not being able to smell that’s putting us on edge,” the Doctor advised. “The lessening of senses is always a concern. As for this guy?” He gestured to the corpse he’d stabbed with his wrist mounted needle a few minutes back. “The closest blood reference we have is Celican C-14 and it had to be thinned out slightly by the internal water supply. There’s definite signs of a contagion in the bloodstream but it’s not airborne. Anymore anyway.” He glanced up towards the vents. “I’ll have to take samples from the others first. For all I know, this thing I’m calling a contagion…”

“...is totally normal to this species.” Hadrian sighed. “Talk about wheel spinning.”

“Nature of exploration,” Flakk told him. “Only an idiot goes in fast when they don’t know the layout.”


“Speaking of which,” Corncob commented, “I’ve found something. It appears to be a video file. Want me to bring it up on the screen?”

“Can you link it in to the Rodomont,” Xarra asked.

“Afraid not, Commander,” he told her. “I have no idea where the communications system is. Open your comm up to the intake speaker and they should be able to hear everything. I’ll record video.”

Xarra nodded, then recalled the suit. “Go ahead.”


They turned as the visual system flickered and fizzed into life. <”It’s not gone as planned,”> the figure on the screen said unhappily. At least Xarra figured the figure was unhappy. The words being translated by the microbes under her skin indicated that. <”The contagion’s affecting the ent..entire crew now. Doctan Covil reckons it’s in the air. The weapon’s taken...”> He seemed to swallow and cough unpleasantly… <”...we can’t reach help so… We launched a re..te drone t….k for hel...rom th...ited S...rity...”> The voice fizzled into static, followed by the picture itself before the screen flicked into black.

“OK,” Xarra commented, “wasn’t quite expecting that.”


“So,” Postain said, “it might have been them sending a request for help and it crashed?”

“You’d need to get stellar cartography to extrapolate,” Maldak mentioned, before cringing. She’d only meant to think that right now.

“I know, Maldak,” Postain growled. “I’m not a fool.”

“Sorry, sir.”

<”It seems that way, Captain,”> Xarra replied, having heard the interchange but choosing to ignore it for her team’s benefit. <”What do you want us to do now?”>

Postain mused on it for a moment. “It’s sending out a signal right now,” he told his first. “If anyone picks it up, they’ll come looking. I think we can…”

<”Hold one, sir,”> Xarra replied. <”Doctor Flakk’s saying something. Apologies, by the way. Seems I’ve got the speaker set to ‘output somehow.”> She listened. <”Flakk says we need to destroy the ship, sir. If there’s anything left here that an unsuspecting person picks up...”>

“The contagion could spread. Understood. Get yourselves back here. Over and out.” Maldak cut the line. “Maldak,” he continued, “set up a buoy to relay a message to anyone who comes close. I’ll dictate it.”


By the time Jak and the other guards had set explosives to assist in the detonation, Xarra had the shuttle ready to go, even if it was laden down by purloined tech. Flakk had chosen not to take any bodies back with them, although Xarra believed he’d let her make the choice so long as it agreed with him – and the team were ready to get out of the mausoleum. “We go into decontamination protocols when we land,” Flakk told them. “Full sterilization for the suits.”

“What about the blood samples you took,” Hadrian asked.

“They’re in sealed containers inside the armour,” Flakk replied, casting a dark shadow over his tone. “They’ll be transferred to an equally sealed system in the medical station so the computer can analyse them automatically. Then, when recorded, they’re disintegrated. The system’s sealed.”

“Speaking of which,” Xarra said, “I think the doors are closing…” She hit the accelerator inside the bay and sped for the exit, sneaking the shuttle out at practical floor level before the metal shutters came down to prevent their exit. “Hope no-one left their toothbrushes behind.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This story is continuing along wonderfully! Great job Welshy!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SEVENTEEN

Captain Postain allowed Xarra time to come aboard, into the decontamination bay at the back of the ship, so her group could watch what happened in safety. She turned on the screens in the bay so they could see as the beams of energy struck out from the battleship and impacted the helpless vessel. Hadrian sighed and detonated the charges they’d laid inside the vessel to aid in the destruction. There was no elation, no joy. No thrill of excitement as the ship ruptured and fell apart under the continued assault from the Rodomont. Doctor Flakk muttered a few words that the others didn’t quite catch as Doctor Jul headed in through the first of the two access doors “You’re not needed here, Martin,” he snapped with aggravation. “I’m quite capable of taking this gang through the decontamination procedures.”

“I’m sure of it,” Jul replied, “I also know you’d pull me up on it if I wasn’t here,” he continued, taking the one step to the observation door so he could close it and speak through the door speaker. <”Decontamination to take place under medical supervision,”> he quoted joyfully, <”all medicals to be treated as patients until procedures are carried out on them. Just following procedures.”>

“And being a smart-tumblebumble about it.”

“He’s right, though, isn’t he,” Hadrian asked, removing his helmet so he could let his antlers flow out.

“How you planning to get the top off over those,” Flakk replied, unwilling to admit his friend was probably right. He opened the top armour to remove it and pulled the under armour off over the top of his head, just to prove a point. Xarra found herself unable to resist a gulp at the old Doctor’s physique and musculature.

<”Pulse rate going up there, Commander,”> Jul observed from outside as his senior headed across to the sealed off section to secure the armour and shower.


Underway again, Postain had moved to his office, leaving Lieutenant Palma in temporary control of the bridge. He’d had Maldak send a copy of the audio recording to Talvary Station in lieu of the full recording, which Xarra’s squad was bringing back with them. The isolated computer would have to run scans to make sure it wasn’t hiding anything nasty before he could send that on but he, of course, would watch it on the isolated system as soon as possible. Now, though, he was just waiting on… His computer terminal booped and announced he had a direct, incoming, transmission being fed through. Through the fizz, the Rottian could see the Mican Postlethwaite, somehow looking even older today. He chose to let the boss speak first and the two stared at each other for a moment before it dawned on him. “One of us has to go first,” he offered.

Postlethwaite’s voice started when he was halfway through the line. <”This call is exp… Right. Time delay. Forgot. I’ll go first. Your thoughts, Captain?”>

Postain put his muzzle atop the pads of his left hand and tapped his teeth with his claws. “Until we see the full recording, I suggest it doesn’t alter our actions.. We still need to find out what’s going on.” He stopped.

<”You don’t think a science ship would be a good idea?”>

“Possibly good to have ready to go,” Postain conceded, “but the Captain referred to what happened to them as a ‘weapon’. They were coming for help, it seems, but it could mean there’s something dangerous going on. The Rodomont should investigate.” He counted down from ten. As he got to zero, Postlethwaite spoke again.

<”Investigation does not require unnecessary risks, Captain. I’ll call for a Medical and science frigate and a destroyer to be ready to come your way. One in case you can report again in three days and the other in case you can’t.”>

“Understood, sir.”

<”How’s the author doing?”>

Postain sat back. “Wouldn’t know. He’s been following Yarkin around.”

<”Bet she loves that.”>


Caldan Ravel had his feet up on the table as Chief Yarkin walked in and swatted them with her turned off shostik. “You bored,” she asked.

“Well, it’s not as exciting as I thought it’d be.” His ears pricked up. “Uh, not that it’s not interesting and informative. I’ve taken a fair few notes.”

“Good,” the Feline replied. “Space exploration is five percent excitement in both fiction and reality.” She sat down and faced him. “The difference between the two is that you…” She pointed towards him. “...can fast forward through eighty percent of the humdrum. As for the rest..?” She started looking through her reports. She straightened up. “Come with me,” she said simply, before standing up and heading for the door. “Time to deal with something more unusual.”


Striding from the office at a speed that had Ravel jogging to keep up, Yarkin led the way through the central zone of the ship towards the medical bay. The author watched as officers and crew made way for them, conspicuously moving away from their path. Their eyes portrayed a slight amount of fear, but he supposed that was possibly more to do with the look he couldn’t see on Yarkin’s face as they went and turned into the main medical bay where Doctor Cobalt was, apparently, waiting for them. Or, rather, waiting for her.

The Doctor indicated him. “Sure you want him here,” she asked.

“No but I couldn’t leave him around my office. He’s about to learn the importance of exercising his discretion and not jotting things down.” She looked to her shadow. “Doctor/Patient confidentiality is important,” she told him. “But things like she’s about to say are things we have to know about. In a sealed environment like a ship you need to know what your fellow passengers are capable of. Speak up, Kelly.”

Doctor Cobalt muttered something under her breath and put up the image of a Lappinean Male with contusions to the wrist and arm and face. “Dorney Rayle,” she said. “Came in with these this afternoon. Not major wounds, no, but not the sort of thing you can get by ‘walking into a door’. And it’s not the first time. I wouldn’t think too much of it as he’s a fitness trainer in the gymnasium. Helps train the fighters. But this last time? He came in BEFORE his shift started so I can’t think of too many ways he could have gained these injuries by accident.”

“No,” Yarkin mentioned, putting a hand to her chin as she looked up at the screen. “They do look rather like wounds from fighting, don’t they?”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

If they are wounds from fighting then that is most likely what they are. Nice work again!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

EIGHTEEN

“So,” the author asked as he followed Yarkin back towards her office, “how do you start tracking down a fight club?”

She rolled her eyes, gripped his shirt and pulled him into an empty office. The door closed between them and the rest of the ship and she faced him across the empty room. “First thing you do is never mention it in public,” she hissed before letting him go. “There’ll be a few involved in this – maybe half a dozen – and we have NO idea who they are. So saying anything direct in a place you can be overheard..?”

His ears dipped in chagrin as Caldan considered the mistake he’d just made. “Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking…”

“Nah,” she breezed, waving it off. “Rookie mistake. You’re entitled to make them.” She side eyed him. “For a short while. As for what we do next? We go with the lead we have.”

“What lead,” Caldan asked. “You mean the fighter?”

Yarkin nodded. Then shook her head and grinned. “More his timing,” she remarked.


Caldan looked on as she worked the computer in her office now they’d made their way back there. She’d shut the door to keep the world out and was dealing with her teams over the comms and through a ‘knock first’ policy. ‘Before feet hit the streets,’ she’d told him, ‘the brain collects information.’ But why was she looking at… “Why are you looking at the times this Rayle character went into the med bay?”

“I’m not,” Yarkin confided, chewing a silicone rod. “I’m looking at the times he didn’t. Kelly told us that sometimes he tried to walk the injuries off so they were a few hours old.”

“You don’t believe that’s why he delayed?”

“People lie for various reasons, as you know, Mr thriller writer. It wells us things if you can work out why. The times he comes in tells us a lot.” She tapped the rod to the screen on several places. “By themselves it’s nothing, of course. Until you add in the duty log for Medbay. Which I did five minutes ago.”

“Then why…” he looked up towards the ceiling and moaned. “You’re teaching me, aren’t you? You want to see if I can see what you did so…” Again he looked at the screen. His eyes flitted from database to database as they stayed side by side. His sharp eyes worked on each time individually until he had… something. “Doctor Cobalt was on solo duty each time,” he remarked before frowning. “He wanted to be seen by her?”

“Nope,” Yarkin corrected. “I’ll bet Doctor Jul’s dealt with a few ‘walking wounded’ too. It’s not that he wanted to be seen by her, it’s that he DIDN’T want to be seen by Doctor Flakk!”

Caldan wagged a finger in the air. “Ah. Because he’s a Wolf and would immediately put two and two together and make Fight Club.”

“Don’t keep calling it that. Makes it sound enticing.”

“What should I call it then?”

She turned to face him, a sharpness in her eyes as she said one word. “Illegal.” She spun back around. “But, being division head, Flakk chooses his own schedule and enters it into the logs for the week when he assigns the work rotas. There are not many people who know those rotas, Caldan. Finding out who accessed them could help narrow down an active participant who isn’t already known to us. It’s probably one of their nurses.”

“Or this Doctor… Jul, you mentioned? Sounds Mican.”

Yarkin nodded. “He is. Good catch on the name.”

Caldan gave a faint nod in appreciation of the appreciation. “They’re important,” he said. “They speak to a character and where they’re from. Yarkin,” he mused, figuring she’d ask. “From the Lansome Isles on Felas perhaps? It’s certainly nautically tinged.”

Yarkin kept her gaze straight ahead. “Tider province,” she told him. “And no flirting when I’m on duty.”

“Aren’t you… always on duty?”

“Annoyingly.”

Now he shifted around to the front of her desk and smiled at her. “You could always take a five minute break? It’s close on 2100hrs, after all.”

“No,” she stated flatly. “Not when on a task.” She looked up and gave him half a smile. “Perhaps after,” she allowed.


“I think you made an admirer there, sir,” Jul told Flakk as the older Doctor pulled his new shirt on. He buttoned up the simple trousers whilst never taking his eyes off the Mican.

“I have no interest in what you think, Martin,” he warned. “We’ve been in there for three hours and naked for all of it!” He growled at the youngster. “Why?”

“I got distracted from getting the clothes,” Jul replied honestly. “One of the technicians got brought in after a bad fall so I spent the last few hours correcting the damage to him, if you want to check.”


The older medic strode into Jul’s kingdom as though he owned the place and gently examined the Mican lying there before checking the readings and charts. “Fractured spine… repaired,” he stated, ignoring the slight smell of fear from the little lump on the bed. “Damage to the upper spine… under control.” He looked at the wounded Mican in annoyance. “What the heck did you fall off?”

“Uh, a st...starlancer,” he stammered. “S...sorry.”

“Don’t apologise to me,” Flakk warned before indicating Jul. “Apologise to him for making him waste his prodigious skill on saving someone who fell off a ship when it wasn’t moving!” He turned back to Jul. “You did quite a good job, Martin. Especially with only one nurse.” He snorted. “But you really should have sent clothes in.”

Jul gave a wry smile. “Half expected you to walk out of there anyhow.”

Flakk huffed. “If Xarra, Jak and I had done that,” he warned, “you’d have been dealing with a lot more injuries from distraction falls, believe me!”

Jul swallowed. It seemed he’d just got his boss into a good mood and now he had to spoil it again. “Speaking of injuries,” he said, indicating his office. Leaving the Mican under the care of Jul’s nurse, Flakk stepped in. Jul closed the door and showed him the mail Kelly had sent him shortly after talking with Yarkin...
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Never a good position to be in which is having to spoil your boss's good mood. Hope it can be broken as gently as possible. ;)
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