Things Fall Apart: Chapter 11, Part 6
Our Story So Far - Click here to access past entries!
Starship Bellerophon was minding its business, on a long return cruise from an exploration and mapping mission, when it suffered disaster, ripping a chunk out of the ship and leaving most of the senior officers and crew dead. Most of the ship's AIs are missing from the network, also presumed dead, with evidence pointing to a massive, internal "attack" by those AIs.
The survivors' mission, now, is simply to hold their ship and their people together; figure out what happened to them, and why; and get to a safe port! En route to the nearest relay on the time-compression network, in hopes of calling for aid, Bellerophon received *two different distress calls. The first was from the completely destroyed TCT Fleet ship Almaty, which seems to have suffered the same event as Bellerophon. The second came from a mostly intact civilian yacht, whose owner made his fortune as a pioneer of time-compression drives.
With Bellerophon's drive repaired, the ship is now making a bee-line to New Norfolk Station, having heard nothing from the expected relay network. With time running out to do so, Lieutenant Cadotte chose to use a dangerous technique to try to recover two of the three surviving AIs, the engineering specialists Castor and Pollux, with Chef "guarding" their dive. Chef felt compelled to notify Lieutenant Singer, acting CO, when the twins' emotions threatened to overwhelm Cadotte, leading to Singer intervening. But those emotions were catharsis, the twins felt well, and so Singer and Cadotte returned to the real world.
The clock in the lab showed only about a minute of real time had elapsed, but Singer felt drained and hungry. That explains why Cadotte looks the way they do; they must be starving.
In point of fact, almost ignoring Singer, Cadotte moved directly to a replicator and mumbled an order Singer didn't hear. When they turned around, a tray held two bowls of ice cream.
Singer raised an eyebrow.
"Carbs, Skipper. Protein later, but right now, carbs."
Singer nodded. "Maybe, but you also look like you could use some electrolytes."
Cadotte opened their mouth to protest, but behind them, the replicator whirred. Chef said, "She's right, Lieutenant. Supplement on the replicator for each of you."
Cadotte made a face, put the tray with the ice cream bowls down on a table, and retrieved two glasses.
Singer took hers and brandished it almost like a wine glass. "Before I deliver the scold I came here to deliver, let's toast your success. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate the accomplishment."
Cadotte smiled slightly, and they clinked glasses, then downed the contents. Neither had any illusions about how it would taste, and neither was disappointed in that regard. The only good thing about it was it didn't leave much aftertaste, so it wouldn't ruin the ice cream.
"Can we eat while you scold me, Skipper?"
Singer had to repress a grin, which would have spoiled the effect of any scold. "Given how you look, I think I insist we do!"
Cadotte was clearly trying not to eat ravenously in front of the boss, but still managed to get an obvious bout of brain-freeze. Singer had anticipated that, and had a few spoons herself before finally settling on her scold.
"Lieutenant, I know we agreed—reluctantly—to the NDI experiment. I also thought we'd been very clear that you are not expendable. Chef was undoubtedly a very capable 'ground control', but to go in alone, without backup, and without telling anyone other than Chef what you were doing, was reckless."
They had an answer for that, however. "Skipper, it's precisely because none of us are expendable that I didn't take anyone else in with me. There's no real safety in numbers in this situation. If there were any real danger, the danger would have been equally real for both participants."
Singer considered her other arguments. Almost all of them were, for lack of a better word, protein-chauvinist, implying a preference for her biological crewperson over two AIs. She didn't actually feel that way, however, especially right now.
But more, Singer realized that her whole calculus had changed. Ordinarily, the risk of one life to try to save two was easy math. They had now lost so many people, though, that Singer realized that what had scared her was the prospect of losing anyone else. Castor and Pollux had already been...not lost, but asleep. Cadotte had been invaluable and fully present. Singer was having trouble, even now, feeling the risk had been fully justified.
But she also wasn't sure it wasn't. So.
Singer sighed, had another spoon of ice cream, finishing her bowl, and said, "All right, Lieutenant. I take your point. I still don't appreciate the sense that you went behind my back to do it. Next time—hopefully there won't be a next time, but next time, don't try to keep it quiet."
Cadotte looked very briefly like they were about to protest again, but Singer's stern look was apparently sufficiently quelling. "Yes, Skipper," was all they said.
And then, ruining any effect of what little attempt at discipline there had been in the conversation, Cadotte yawned mightily.
Singer looked at them wryly, and they responded, "I think, Skipper, that I'd better go collapse."
"Good plan. Do you need help?"
Cadotte seriously considered it. "No, Skipper. I think I'm good."
"Dismissed, then."
Cadotte collected both bowls and glasses onto the tray, returned them to the replicator, which did its magic in reverse, said, "Goodnight, Skipper!" and headed out.
When the door was closed, Singer counted five and said, "Chef?"
"Ma'am?"
Singer allowed the last sliver of her anxiety to show in her next question, "Tell me it was worth the risk."
Chef didn't hesitate. "It definitely was, ma'am." He looked like he had more to say, but Singer chose not to pry.
"Very well. But you understand I did not appreciate being surprised by this?"
"Yes, Skipper." It was not...quite...a promise not to do it again. Only an acknowledgement that she was still on edge, and had some right to be.
It was adequate. And Singer herself was on the verge of a yawn almost as prodigious as Cadotte's had just been.
"Very well. I'm going to go fall over, myself. Good night, Chef!"
"Good night, ma'am!"
In addition to representing a plot milestone, this also represents a milestone in adapting the game scenario this started with. This plot-beat was the furthest extent I had definitely planned for before the first iteration of the game petered out (and it didn't play out quite this way, then), while the second iteration never quite made it here.
Now, I know where I'm going next from here, and I had some idea even then, but the point is, from this point on is truly new stuff that has not been part of either previous iteration.
Thank you all for being along for the ride, so far!