Chapter 18: Different Perspective
Posted: Sat Jul 17, 2021 2:01 am
Clubber landed the raptor aboard Toaster One with a hard thud. Two deck hands came over, removed the box from the plane and moved it into the captain’s office. Once there, the container was opened and Ford stepped out. Reeves began another speech. Ford straightened up and looked directly at the wall ahead of him. The one man he hated the most was now the officer he took orders from. His mind raced with the possibilities of what this might mean, everything from accidental death to belligerent orders being barked at him constantly. With a deep breath he focused his thoughts to resolve himself that what would happen, would happen and there was nothing he could do about his fate.
Despite any of his previous accomplishments and awarded medals, he was now seen as a complete frak up. If they got back to colonial space, best he could hope for would be a 5-10 year prison term followed by a dishonorable discharge. Reeves spoke, “Ok, so you’re not a murderer, the death was an accident. But it was made because of stupidity. Somehow, I think I could stomach a cold-blooded killer better than your arrogant, moronic behaviors. And Alana wasn’t just the wife of my closest friend; she was part of the family I always wanted.”
Lieutenant Ford made an attempt to open his mouth to speak, but the Captain noticing his efforts, spun ‘round to stand barely an inch away and glared into his face. The sound of the Reeves side arm holster being unlatched was the only thing to break the sudden silence of the room. Both men breathed heavily for a moment and once again the Captain spoke. “Don’t worry, I’ll obey my orders.” He refastened the latch over his weapon.
“I have a special room for you, it’s the closest to CIC. It’s the only chamber off a corridor between command and an airlock. When you aren’t working, you will be in your quarters and a guard will be posted at the end of the hallway near command. This way you can leave your place anytime you want, but the only place you can go is the airlock. Please feel free to use it anytime you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
Having set the tone of their situation, Reeves added that he still expected the lieutenant to act like an officer in all regards. Save for the fact that he could only issue an order when faced with an emergency situation. The two men walked to Toaster One’s command centre. As they entered the room, 3 crewmen who were hard at work, suddenly stopped and stood up. In silent defiance, they stared at the walls.
Captain Reeves boomed in an authoritative voice, “You’re opinions are noted! But in the next 5 seconds you can either resume your duties or I find a brig to put you in.” Two men bit their lips and returned to their posts whereas the third, saluted the Captain and then presented himself to a marine guard. “Take him to his quarters and keep him there. I don’t have time for this felter carb.”
This was a side of Reeves that Ford didn’t know existed. He never imagined the man could be this strict. Not wanting to cause further problems, the lieutenant commenced with his duties.
-----
The Argus was underway and Toaster One was slowly following behind. As the admiral sat in his office contemplating Leoben Conoy’s comments, he had a very uneasy feeling about returning to colonial space. In 6 days it would be exactly 2 months since the war started. Those few hours that he was directly involved in the war didn’t leave him with positive image of what might have happened since. The wireless signals said it all, a large number of the fleet ships destroyed and as such he feared that there might not be a need re-commission the Argus, because there might be no one left.
Perhaps the best thing he could do is stock up on food, supplies and turn this ship toward un-known regions of space. Maybe there is a suitable planet where people like lieutenant Gains and lieutenant Maxime could settle down and start families. He closed his eyes and began to pray to the gods for guidance. The gods failed to answer. Instead lieutenant Lapointe knocked on the door and Hallis checked himself to make sure he maintained composure.
“Enter!” He called out and the lieutenant opened the door. “Sir, colonel Bridgeford wants you to come down to the Alchemist’s quarters, something about Bear and his religious rights.” The ship’s old man stood up and sighed under his breath that Zeus was too busy to even let him finish his prayers. Lapointe overheard part of the quiet comments and asked for the Admiral to repeat himself. “Nothing, you need to worry about” was his response as he left the room.
Private Parts was in a corner of his room refusing to come out as long as Bridgeford stood at the door. On the other hand lieutenant Bear was calmly trying to have a conversation with the Colonel. He gave no appearance of a man that was temporarily under arrest pending a decision from the admiral. “What’s the problem?” Hallis asked in a matter of fact tone. Bridgeford responded, “Bear has been getting narcotics from the alchemist. Claims he needs them to have a conversation with ghost grandparents.”
Bear chuckled and because of the throat wound he received aboard Toaster One, the sound was guttural and unpleasant. “Admiral, I am here because my grandfather visited me in a dream. He told me my spirit guides have something to show me before we go to Gomorrah.”
Admiral Hallis believed in the gods and prayed regularly, but he wasn’t a priest and this was not something he wanted to deal with. “My rules are simple. No unnecessary drug use.” Lieutenant Bear interjected again, “Sir, while my throat healed, I accepted nothing for the pain. I bore the burden alone and in silence.” This was a statement of fact that no one would dispute. Doctor Lewellyn had mentioned in the command meetings several times that the effort of simple speech and swallowing must have been hell.
The ship’s old man paused and scowled for a few moments. He hated all the drug dealer issues that recently became present aboard his ship. “Do your religious rights under the supervision of the doctor. And I want every last narcotic accounted for.” Both Bridgeford and the lieutenant nodded their understanding. “Thank you sir.” Bear responded in obvious gratefulness.
“Sir, if I may say one more thing while I have your ear.” Hallis looked at him and said he could proceed. “An old woman, who called herself Dyanara, came with my grandfather. She told me to tell you that in this war you must choose between two enemies. She said for me to sing this song so you would know it was truly her.” The lieutenant broke into verse but since his once finely tuned vocal cords were either scarred or shredded beyond healing, he savaged the notes. Still the Admiral’s face paled as he recognized the song. “Enough lieutenant!” He shook his head and looked at the floor.
“Thank you for that information and tell the good doctor to talk to me if he has any problems.” Bear saluted and left the area.
Bridgeford joined Hallis and Lapointe on the return to CIC “What was that all mumbojumbo about? You went white as ghost when he started to sing.” The Colonel’s annoyance with the mystical stuff was evident in his tone. Hallis paused and swallowed. He decided to deal with this straight on, instead of leaving it to scuttlebutt. “Dyanara was my grandmother’s name. She died when I was 4 years old and the only memory I have of her is her tucking me in bed one night and signing that song.” As the old marine shook his head in disbelief, lieutenant Lapointe was profoundly affected by this revelation.
“That doesn’t make any kind of logical sense. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you should forbid his actions, until you get more information.” The Admiral stopped and looked at the lieutenant, “That’s a very good idea, lieutenant. I’ll have you and captain Reeves conduct a full investigation into the spirit world. You can submit me a report in 2-weeks.” Colonel Bridgeford broke into a laugh, “Yea, I’m sure the captain will love that and his report will be real informative; all 3 words, “go frak yourself.”
-----
“Chief, do you have a clue about what you’re doing?” Cupcake was on the flight deck talking to Forester. The chief looked at her, shrugged and stated not knowing had never stopped him before. And that he sure as hell, didn’t have a clue when he got ice-cold battlestar engines to start. Major Assuras smirked and couldn’t resist saying she was always wondering about that.
“Well major, it was actually pretty easy. Normally it takes 3 days to heat the engines before you can start a tylium fusion reaction. The Captain noted that a solium grenade detonates within 8 degrees of what is needed for the engine start.” Assuras’ curiosity overcame her disbelief and she motioned him to continue his story.
“Well, we drilled out half the fuel injectors and installed valves we could open and close by hand. Then we rigged a cluster of grenades and hung them dead-centre of the combustion chamber.” The chief smirked as he noticed a former Poseidon deck hand had stopped to listen too. “We just had to time the detonation with the introduction of fuel and turn the engines on at the same time. It took 2 tries.” Cupcake’s comment of “Frak me” was echoed by the deckhand who immediately wondered how they timed it without a computer. Forester smirked, “I counted backwards from 3.”
“Ok, this is what I’m trying to do, install a raptor nav-console in a raider.” Assuras went back to that questioning look and wanted to know why he would do that. “I got to thinking, Max and Gains said that the raiders that attacked the Poseidon were cockpit less. And when we were aboard the basestar and I harassed the sleeping toaster, Lapointe said it triggered some sort of network reaction. I’m just wondering if…” The Major intercepted his comments saying she could see where this was going. Forester put a hopeful smile on, “Exactly, I’m willing to bet there must be some sort of master navigational access thingy or something.”
The Major paused and considered everything, “Proceed on my authority but stop short of making any final connections. I want Reeves or Lapointe to make sure there is nothing that can come back to bite us in the ass. Watch there be a fraking locater beacon on those birds. The chief raised his hand and gave the thumbs up sign and 2 men walked over to the raptor and began the removal of the console.
This little action appeared to lift the spirits of the knuckle-grinders present. Obviously this was a project several of them had been looking forward to doing. Forester then asked Assuras to come into his office for a moment; he wanted to have an off-the-record conversation. “Cupcake, Scott isn’t gay.
He isn’t a virgin. And I can honestly say he thinks about you, a lot.” The Major wasn’t expecting this conversation but she wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to find out more. “How do you know? Because he certainly doesn’t show it.” Forester calmly explained that he has known the Captain for a long time and that he wants something more for his friend.
“Although he isn’t sad, I’ve never known him to be happy. The man is like a dog that has been beaten too much. Just stick with him and he will eventually come around.” The Major sighed and let it be known that she felt her actions were like those of a teenager and not his superior officer. “Not at all sir, the heart doesn’t care about rank. Besides, you still get your job done and that’s all that counts.”
“So how are you handling being alone?” Cupcake felt better about her un-requited love and wanted to return the favour. “Every morning when I get up I expect to see Alana there, smiling at me. You never know just how much someone was part of you, until they are gone.” The Major reached over and took his hand into hers to comfort him, as a tear rolled down the man’s face. “I cry myself asleep. I cry when I expect to see her and she doesn’t show up. And every fraking night, in my dreams, I’m cursed to relive her death.”
He began to openly weep and she embraced him, gently coaxing him to let it all out. “I just want to find some dark hole in the ground and curl up and die.” There was nothing she could say; instead she just continued to hold the man as he grieved.
Despite any of his previous accomplishments and awarded medals, he was now seen as a complete frak up. If they got back to colonial space, best he could hope for would be a 5-10 year prison term followed by a dishonorable discharge. Reeves spoke, “Ok, so you’re not a murderer, the death was an accident. But it was made because of stupidity. Somehow, I think I could stomach a cold-blooded killer better than your arrogant, moronic behaviors. And Alana wasn’t just the wife of my closest friend; she was part of the family I always wanted.”
Lieutenant Ford made an attempt to open his mouth to speak, but the Captain noticing his efforts, spun ‘round to stand barely an inch away and glared into his face. The sound of the Reeves side arm holster being unlatched was the only thing to break the sudden silence of the room. Both men breathed heavily for a moment and once again the Captain spoke. “Don’t worry, I’ll obey my orders.” He refastened the latch over his weapon.
“I have a special room for you, it’s the closest to CIC. It’s the only chamber off a corridor between command and an airlock. When you aren’t working, you will be in your quarters and a guard will be posted at the end of the hallway near command. This way you can leave your place anytime you want, but the only place you can go is the airlock. Please feel free to use it anytime you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
Having set the tone of their situation, Reeves added that he still expected the lieutenant to act like an officer in all regards. Save for the fact that he could only issue an order when faced with an emergency situation. The two men walked to Toaster One’s command centre. As they entered the room, 3 crewmen who were hard at work, suddenly stopped and stood up. In silent defiance, they stared at the walls.
Captain Reeves boomed in an authoritative voice, “You’re opinions are noted! But in the next 5 seconds you can either resume your duties or I find a brig to put you in.” Two men bit their lips and returned to their posts whereas the third, saluted the Captain and then presented himself to a marine guard. “Take him to his quarters and keep him there. I don’t have time for this felter carb.”
This was a side of Reeves that Ford didn’t know existed. He never imagined the man could be this strict. Not wanting to cause further problems, the lieutenant commenced with his duties.
-----
The Argus was underway and Toaster One was slowly following behind. As the admiral sat in his office contemplating Leoben Conoy’s comments, he had a very uneasy feeling about returning to colonial space. In 6 days it would be exactly 2 months since the war started. Those few hours that he was directly involved in the war didn’t leave him with positive image of what might have happened since. The wireless signals said it all, a large number of the fleet ships destroyed and as such he feared that there might not be a need re-commission the Argus, because there might be no one left.
Perhaps the best thing he could do is stock up on food, supplies and turn this ship toward un-known regions of space. Maybe there is a suitable planet where people like lieutenant Gains and lieutenant Maxime could settle down and start families. He closed his eyes and began to pray to the gods for guidance. The gods failed to answer. Instead lieutenant Lapointe knocked on the door and Hallis checked himself to make sure he maintained composure.
“Enter!” He called out and the lieutenant opened the door. “Sir, colonel Bridgeford wants you to come down to the Alchemist’s quarters, something about Bear and his religious rights.” The ship’s old man stood up and sighed under his breath that Zeus was too busy to even let him finish his prayers. Lapointe overheard part of the quiet comments and asked for the Admiral to repeat himself. “Nothing, you need to worry about” was his response as he left the room.
Private Parts was in a corner of his room refusing to come out as long as Bridgeford stood at the door. On the other hand lieutenant Bear was calmly trying to have a conversation with the Colonel. He gave no appearance of a man that was temporarily under arrest pending a decision from the admiral. “What’s the problem?” Hallis asked in a matter of fact tone. Bridgeford responded, “Bear has been getting narcotics from the alchemist. Claims he needs them to have a conversation with ghost grandparents.”
Bear chuckled and because of the throat wound he received aboard Toaster One, the sound was guttural and unpleasant. “Admiral, I am here because my grandfather visited me in a dream. He told me my spirit guides have something to show me before we go to Gomorrah.”
Admiral Hallis believed in the gods and prayed regularly, but he wasn’t a priest and this was not something he wanted to deal with. “My rules are simple. No unnecessary drug use.” Lieutenant Bear interjected again, “Sir, while my throat healed, I accepted nothing for the pain. I bore the burden alone and in silence.” This was a statement of fact that no one would dispute. Doctor Lewellyn had mentioned in the command meetings several times that the effort of simple speech and swallowing must have been hell.
The ship’s old man paused and scowled for a few moments. He hated all the drug dealer issues that recently became present aboard his ship. “Do your religious rights under the supervision of the doctor. And I want every last narcotic accounted for.” Both Bridgeford and the lieutenant nodded their understanding. “Thank you sir.” Bear responded in obvious gratefulness.
“Sir, if I may say one more thing while I have your ear.” Hallis looked at him and said he could proceed. “An old woman, who called herself Dyanara, came with my grandfather. She told me to tell you that in this war you must choose between two enemies. She said for me to sing this song so you would know it was truly her.” The lieutenant broke into verse but since his once finely tuned vocal cords were either scarred or shredded beyond healing, he savaged the notes. Still the Admiral’s face paled as he recognized the song. “Enough lieutenant!” He shook his head and looked at the floor.
“Thank you for that information and tell the good doctor to talk to me if he has any problems.” Bear saluted and left the area.
Bridgeford joined Hallis and Lapointe on the return to CIC “What was that all mumbojumbo about? You went white as ghost when he started to sing.” The Colonel’s annoyance with the mystical stuff was evident in his tone. Hallis paused and swallowed. He decided to deal with this straight on, instead of leaving it to scuttlebutt. “Dyanara was my grandmother’s name. She died when I was 4 years old and the only memory I have of her is her tucking me in bed one night and signing that song.” As the old marine shook his head in disbelief, lieutenant Lapointe was profoundly affected by this revelation.
“That doesn’t make any kind of logical sense. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you should forbid his actions, until you get more information.” The Admiral stopped and looked at the lieutenant, “That’s a very good idea, lieutenant. I’ll have you and captain Reeves conduct a full investigation into the spirit world. You can submit me a report in 2-weeks.” Colonel Bridgeford broke into a laugh, “Yea, I’m sure the captain will love that and his report will be real informative; all 3 words, “go frak yourself.”
-----
“Chief, do you have a clue about what you’re doing?” Cupcake was on the flight deck talking to Forester. The chief looked at her, shrugged and stated not knowing had never stopped him before. And that he sure as hell, didn’t have a clue when he got ice-cold battlestar engines to start. Major Assuras smirked and couldn’t resist saying she was always wondering about that.
“Well major, it was actually pretty easy. Normally it takes 3 days to heat the engines before you can start a tylium fusion reaction. The Captain noted that a solium grenade detonates within 8 degrees of what is needed for the engine start.” Assuras’ curiosity overcame her disbelief and she motioned him to continue his story.
“Well, we drilled out half the fuel injectors and installed valves we could open and close by hand. Then we rigged a cluster of grenades and hung them dead-centre of the combustion chamber.” The chief smirked as he noticed a former Poseidon deck hand had stopped to listen too. “We just had to time the detonation with the introduction of fuel and turn the engines on at the same time. It took 2 tries.” Cupcake’s comment of “Frak me” was echoed by the deckhand who immediately wondered how they timed it without a computer. Forester smirked, “I counted backwards from 3.”
“Ok, this is what I’m trying to do, install a raptor nav-console in a raider.” Assuras went back to that questioning look and wanted to know why he would do that. “I got to thinking, Max and Gains said that the raiders that attacked the Poseidon were cockpit less. And when we were aboard the basestar and I harassed the sleeping toaster, Lapointe said it triggered some sort of network reaction. I’m just wondering if…” The Major intercepted his comments saying she could see where this was going. Forester put a hopeful smile on, “Exactly, I’m willing to bet there must be some sort of master navigational access thingy or something.”
The Major paused and considered everything, “Proceed on my authority but stop short of making any final connections. I want Reeves or Lapointe to make sure there is nothing that can come back to bite us in the ass. Watch there be a fraking locater beacon on those birds. The chief raised his hand and gave the thumbs up sign and 2 men walked over to the raptor and began the removal of the console.
This little action appeared to lift the spirits of the knuckle-grinders present. Obviously this was a project several of them had been looking forward to doing. Forester then asked Assuras to come into his office for a moment; he wanted to have an off-the-record conversation. “Cupcake, Scott isn’t gay.
He isn’t a virgin. And I can honestly say he thinks about you, a lot.” The Major wasn’t expecting this conversation but she wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to find out more. “How do you know? Because he certainly doesn’t show it.” Forester calmly explained that he has known the Captain for a long time and that he wants something more for his friend.
“Although he isn’t sad, I’ve never known him to be happy. The man is like a dog that has been beaten too much. Just stick with him and he will eventually come around.” The Major sighed and let it be known that she felt her actions were like those of a teenager and not his superior officer. “Not at all sir, the heart doesn’t care about rank. Besides, you still get your job done and that’s all that counts.”
“So how are you handling being alone?” Cupcake felt better about her un-requited love and wanted to return the favour. “Every morning when I get up I expect to see Alana there, smiling at me. You never know just how much someone was part of you, until they are gone.” The Major reached over and took his hand into hers to comfort him, as a tear rolled down the man’s face. “I cry myself asleep. I cry when I expect to see her and she doesn’t show up. And every fraking night, in my dreams, I’m cursed to relive her death.”
He began to openly weep and she embraced him, gently coaxing him to let it all out. “I just want to find some dark hole in the ground and curl up and die.” There was nothing she could say; instead she just continued to hold the man as he grieved.