Cameron was not particularly happy, having had a brief, and frustrating, conversation with Dirk that had gone nowhere, and then being told that they were coming back earlier than expected; the survey cut short due to one of his people having a full-on, screaming freakout. He supposed it could have been worse, but not knowing what they had found was driving him up the wall, and Dirk had adamantly refused to discuss it. He'd offered no explanation, save to say that he had to explain it in person. He had then cut communications with the Jester, and ignored his calls thereafter.
To say that Dirk had better have a good reason for doing what he'd done, went without saying, but there was something about the tone of his voice that went beyond his normal professional terseness. He had been evasive, and whenever Dirk got evasive, it was never good.
Cameron decided that the best - and only - way to deal with the lack of incoming information was to distract himself with busywork until Mule-1 was safely back aboard. To that end, he decided to get a better idea of what their salvage claim would net them in the way of revenue, using a wide range of assumptions about how much of the derelict would turn a profit on the open market, versus what Resodyne, or another company, might be willing to pay for it. Since the original owners were defunct, and the ship had not been listed among ARA Corporation assets when those had been purchased by Resodyne, he could easily put the whole thing up for public auction. It would be interesting to see just how much he could get for the whole thing in one go, but before he did that he'd need a complete structural survey, and inventory of the entire vessel from bow to stern, and they just didn't have the time. Without a full accounting of the condition of the transport and its contents, the starting bids would be lower than he liked.
Inspiration struck suddenly, and he realized that he had a way to get a preliminary survey of the condition of the colony ship's hull without the need for on-site personnel. He called up Ludmilla Brostowski.
"Milla, I've got Dirk and his team coming back early; they had to cut their survey short. How fast can you send a salvage survey drone out there?" He inquired, pulling up images of the derelict colony ship on his command console's monitor.
"I can put an SSD outside in less than half an hour, but getting it on station will take some time. Unless all you want is a fly-by?" Replied the Chief Engineer.
Salvage Survey Drones were little more than a vaguely spherical cage surrounding a remotely operated set of attitude thrusters, a small chemical reaction drive, and a basic sensor package, consisting of optical-infrared and low powered radar. Most corporate ships had them aboard, but classed them as fungible equipment, and often made no effort to retrieve them. Cameron tended to think differently, and if this job was about to go sour, he wouldn't have a great deal of money to throw around.
"Program for a least-time course there and back, but leave it with a minimum survey time of, say, an hour; use a helical flight pattern along the main axis of the ship, I want to be able to model the entire exterior for future reference. Oh, one other thing; set the SSD to record everything instead of continuously transmitting, we can dump the thing's memory when we retrieve it later." He told the engineer.
The latter part of his instructions would make sense from the standpoint of power conservation, but he had really done it without consciously thinking about it; he realized that he had done so mostly to keep anyone from being able to interfere with his getting a good look at the prize he was trying to collect. It occurred to him that maybe he was being paranoid, and that what he really needed was a few hours of sleep. He knew that wasn't going to happen, so he kept on working with the limited data he had, trying to find a way to turn their massive find into an equally massive goldmine.
A little less than an hour later, his com badge chirped lighting up with the Chief Engineer's icon, and he nearly dislocated his thumb trying to hit 'Accept'.
"Captain, I thought you should know that the SSD has reached the ship, and is running according to plan." Ludmilla told him, succinctly, and added: "It should finish within the next 45 minutes, and then be on its way back; call it two hours before we bring it back aboard and download any usable information out of it."
She didn't wait for an answer, and cut the connection before he had a chance to respond, but he was unfazed by the chief engineer's blunt manner. After nearly a decade of working together, the two of them barely needed to talk at all in order to communicate effectively. Ludmilla Brostowski had been his chief engineer since leaving Haro-Ryushi to go privateer; she had been pushed out of the Tanner Combine, a large interstellar-capable shipping and freight hauling company. They had officially declared her as 'surplus to requirements', but like a lot of people who raised objections to corporate skirting of regulations, she had simply been pushed out for refusing to put the ship she was responsible for at risk, and insisting that standard maintenance schedules be adhered to. She had come on board, full of the iron pride of her Polish upbringing, and confident in her skills, both of which had stood her in good stead - and occasionally irritated the hell out him. Nevertheless, she not only kept the Jester running, but in better shape than he had a right to expect, and she knew its every dent, patch, and secret better than anyone. He'd learned a long time ago that people like her were rare, and when they showed up, you did whatever you had to in order to keep them happy.
He realized that Mule-1 would be docking anytime now, and decided to head down to the well deck to meet Dirk upon arrival. He swung by the medical bay to get Doc Morishita, since one of the survey team had apparently suffered from some kind of extreme panic attack, and no one knew how severe the damage was. He truly appreciated having Ujio Morishita on his ship, it wasn't easy to justify the expense of keeping a fully licenced and certified medical doctor on board during the lean times, but he always made it a priority to have the doctor paid on time, regardless of the financial hardship. Morishita, for his part, kept his certification up to date, kept a careful eye on the crew's health, and was always there when needed, uncomplaining, calm, and professional.
As if to prove it, he found Morishita and Carla Ustinov, their new sick bay attendant, prepping a stretcher and EMS bag. Jinx was running diagnostics on the ship's autodoc; made on Earth by Siemens-Medtronic AG, the autodoc was probably one of the most important pieces of equipment on the ship, and it hadn't been cheap. The autodoc was a TC-7j 'Lumina', often referred to simply as 'the coffin', and it could diagnose and treat virtually any medical problem a ship's crew might have, from a sinus cold to trauma from explosive decompression. Its bed retracted into the smooth, cylindrical housing of white metaplast while Jinx did her work, and he caught her eye as she looked up from the diagnostic tablet in her hand.
"How'd the coffin check out, Jinx? Everything good?". He asked her.
"As good as possible; all its systems check out, and I plan to keep it on standby for now, just in case it's needed.". She replied confidently.
Intellectually, Cameron knew that he really didn't need to be in the medical bay right now, but he needed to be absolutely certain that his crew were up to the challenges coming their way. Doc Morishita, Jinx, and Ustinov all exuded such a profound competence in their work that he sometimes wondered why they stuck around. Today was one of those days when he was just glad that they did. Further introspection was cut short by Bao-Jian's call from the bridge.
"Captain, just thought you should know, but Mule-1 is on final approach, and should be fully docked within the next few minutes." The pilot informed him as he watched the doctor load the EMS bag on the stretcher.
"Thanks, Shen, I will be on my way threr shortly, you have the bridge for the remainder of the watch." Cameron said, and turned to Morishita. "All set, Doc?"
"I believe so, Captain. With only limited information regarding the patient's condition, I have prepared for a wide range of possibilities." There was a mild reproof in the reply, and he understood the doctor's feelings.
He was anticipating a less than pleasant conversation with Dirk once he was back aboard, and the closer that moment, the more incensed he became with his gunner. Given the circumstances, he could understand cutting the survey short, but a complete communications blackout with a medical case in transit was criminally negligent at best. To call his mood dark as he set foot in the well deck where Mule-1 was once again securely docked would have been a massive understatement.
He spotted Dirk talking to Rollie, he appeared to have already removed his EVA gear and his exo, and as he got closer he could hear him say: "... I know, Rollie, just stay here, shut up, and get my exo back to the Crypt when the doc and company have got Bujdoso out of here, alright?"
Cameron could see Rollie give him a look that bordered on mutinous before saying: "Fine! I don't see what difference it makes, but you win! Happy?"
Dirk's reply was too quiet for him to hear, but the look on Rollie's face was a complex blend of sympathy and frustration.
"Dirk! Get over here!" Cameron shouted from the deck, as soon as Morishita and Ustinov had gotten inside the tug, and Dirk had spoken briefly with them regarding Bujdoso.
He didn't waste time; he marched over with a look on his face that - had he noticed it - might have worried Cameron right through the anger he'd built up on the way down. Dirk looked like hell up close; his face, normally a mask of professional arrogance, was drawn and seemed pale. None of which could be allowed to prevent Cameron from addressing his reckless, insubordinate behavior.
"Do you have any idea how many USITC, Space Enforcement Agency, FSL, and Navy regulations governing the use of exoatmospheric craft you've bent, broken, or just ignored?" He demanded rhetorically, and continued; "If we were anywhere near a populated star system, I'd beach you with a recommendation that your ticket be revoked, and you be brought up on charges. In fact, I have half a mind to confine you to your quarters, and do it anyway."
Cameron paused for a second, took a long breath, and said: "But before I do, you will explain to me just what the hell you found on that ship, do you hear me?"
Dirk didn't say anything for several seconds; then, in a flat voice seemingly leached of feeling, replied: "I'll tell you as much as I can - but only you - and when I do, I promise you'll wish I never had. I'll be in your office."
He found himself following Dirk out of the well deck, with a sudden chill running down his spine. He suddenly realized what he was hearing in the man's voice; it had taken a few moments for it to register, simply because he'd never heard it from Dirk.
It was fear.
To say that Dirk had better have a good reason for doing what he'd done, went without saying, but there was something about the tone of his voice that went beyond his normal professional terseness. He had been evasive, and whenever Dirk got evasive, it was never good.
Cameron decided that the best - and only - way to deal with the lack of incoming information was to distract himself with busywork until Mule-1 was safely back aboard. To that end, he decided to get a better idea of what their salvage claim would net them in the way of revenue, using a wide range of assumptions about how much of the derelict would turn a profit on the open market, versus what Resodyne, or another company, might be willing to pay for it. Since the original owners were defunct, and the ship had not been listed among ARA Corporation assets when those had been purchased by Resodyne, he could easily put the whole thing up for public auction. It would be interesting to see just how much he could get for the whole thing in one go, but before he did that he'd need a complete structural survey, and inventory of the entire vessel from bow to stern, and they just didn't have the time. Without a full accounting of the condition of the transport and its contents, the starting bids would be lower than he liked.
Inspiration struck suddenly, and he realized that he had a way to get a preliminary survey of the condition of the colony ship's hull without the need for on-site personnel. He called up Ludmilla Brostowski.
"Milla, I've got Dirk and his team coming back early; they had to cut their survey short. How fast can you send a salvage survey drone out there?" He inquired, pulling up images of the derelict colony ship on his command console's monitor.
"I can put an SSD outside in less than half an hour, but getting it on station will take some time. Unless all you want is a fly-by?" Replied the Chief Engineer.
Salvage Survey Drones were little more than a vaguely spherical cage surrounding a remotely operated set of attitude thrusters, a small chemical reaction drive, and a basic sensor package, consisting of optical-infrared and low powered radar. Most corporate ships had them aboard, but classed them as fungible equipment, and often made no effort to retrieve them. Cameron tended to think differently, and if this job was about to go sour, he wouldn't have a great deal of money to throw around.
"Program for a least-time course there and back, but leave it with a minimum survey time of, say, an hour; use a helical flight pattern along the main axis of the ship, I want to be able to model the entire exterior for future reference. Oh, one other thing; set the SSD to record everything instead of continuously transmitting, we can dump the thing's memory when we retrieve it later." He told the engineer.
The latter part of his instructions would make sense from the standpoint of power conservation, but he had really done it without consciously thinking about it; he realized that he had done so mostly to keep anyone from being able to interfere with his getting a good look at the prize he was trying to collect. It occurred to him that maybe he was being paranoid, and that what he really needed was a few hours of sleep. He knew that wasn't going to happen, so he kept on working with the limited data he had, trying to find a way to turn their massive find into an equally massive goldmine.
A little less than an hour later, his com badge chirped lighting up with the Chief Engineer's icon, and he nearly dislocated his thumb trying to hit 'Accept'.
"Captain, I thought you should know that the SSD has reached the ship, and is running according to plan." Ludmilla told him, succinctly, and added: "It should finish within the next 45 minutes, and then be on its way back; call it two hours before we bring it back aboard and download any usable information out of it."
She didn't wait for an answer, and cut the connection before he had a chance to respond, but he was unfazed by the chief engineer's blunt manner. After nearly a decade of working together, the two of them barely needed to talk at all in order to communicate effectively. Ludmilla Brostowski had been his chief engineer since leaving Haro-Ryushi to go privateer; she had been pushed out of the Tanner Combine, a large interstellar-capable shipping and freight hauling company. They had officially declared her as 'surplus to requirements', but like a lot of people who raised objections to corporate skirting of regulations, she had simply been pushed out for refusing to put the ship she was responsible for at risk, and insisting that standard maintenance schedules be adhered to. She had come on board, full of the iron pride of her Polish upbringing, and confident in her skills, both of which had stood her in good stead - and occasionally irritated the hell out him. Nevertheless, she not only kept the Jester running, but in better shape than he had a right to expect, and she knew its every dent, patch, and secret better than anyone. He'd learned a long time ago that people like her were rare, and when they showed up, you did whatever you had to in order to keep them happy.
He realized that Mule-1 would be docking anytime now, and decided to head down to the well deck to meet Dirk upon arrival. He swung by the medical bay to get Doc Morishita, since one of the survey team had apparently suffered from some kind of extreme panic attack, and no one knew how severe the damage was. He truly appreciated having Ujio Morishita on his ship, it wasn't easy to justify the expense of keeping a fully licenced and certified medical doctor on board during the lean times, but he always made it a priority to have the doctor paid on time, regardless of the financial hardship. Morishita, for his part, kept his certification up to date, kept a careful eye on the crew's health, and was always there when needed, uncomplaining, calm, and professional.
As if to prove it, he found Morishita and Carla Ustinov, their new sick bay attendant, prepping a stretcher and EMS bag. Jinx was running diagnostics on the ship's autodoc; made on Earth by Siemens-Medtronic AG, the autodoc was probably one of the most important pieces of equipment on the ship, and it hadn't been cheap. The autodoc was a TC-7j 'Lumina', often referred to simply as 'the coffin', and it could diagnose and treat virtually any medical problem a ship's crew might have, from a sinus cold to trauma from explosive decompression. Its bed retracted into the smooth, cylindrical housing of white metaplast while Jinx did her work, and he caught her eye as she looked up from the diagnostic tablet in her hand.
"How'd the coffin check out, Jinx? Everything good?". He asked her.
"As good as possible; all its systems check out, and I plan to keep it on standby for now, just in case it's needed.". She replied confidently.
Intellectually, Cameron knew that he really didn't need to be in the medical bay right now, but he needed to be absolutely certain that his crew were up to the challenges coming their way. Doc Morishita, Jinx, and Ustinov all exuded such a profound competence in their work that he sometimes wondered why they stuck around. Today was one of those days when he was just glad that they did. Further introspection was cut short by Bao-Jian's call from the bridge.
"Captain, just thought you should know, but Mule-1 is on final approach, and should be fully docked within the next few minutes." The pilot informed him as he watched the doctor load the EMS bag on the stretcher.
"Thanks, Shen, I will be on my way threr shortly, you have the bridge for the remainder of the watch." Cameron said, and turned to Morishita. "All set, Doc?"
"I believe so, Captain. With only limited information regarding the patient's condition, I have prepared for a wide range of possibilities." There was a mild reproof in the reply, and he understood the doctor's feelings.
He was anticipating a less than pleasant conversation with Dirk once he was back aboard, and the closer that moment, the more incensed he became with his gunner. Given the circumstances, he could understand cutting the survey short, but a complete communications blackout with a medical case in transit was criminally negligent at best. To call his mood dark as he set foot in the well deck where Mule-1 was once again securely docked would have been a massive understatement.
He spotted Dirk talking to Rollie, he appeared to have already removed his EVA gear and his exo, and as he got closer he could hear him say: "... I know, Rollie, just stay here, shut up, and get my exo back to the Crypt when the doc and company have got Bujdoso out of here, alright?"
Cameron could see Rollie give him a look that bordered on mutinous before saying: "Fine! I don't see what difference it makes, but you win! Happy?"
Dirk's reply was too quiet for him to hear, but the look on Rollie's face was a complex blend of sympathy and frustration.
"Dirk! Get over here!" Cameron shouted from the deck, as soon as Morishita and Ustinov had gotten inside the tug, and Dirk had spoken briefly with them regarding Bujdoso.
He didn't waste time; he marched over with a look on his face that - had he noticed it - might have worried Cameron right through the anger he'd built up on the way down. Dirk looked like hell up close; his face, normally a mask of professional arrogance, was drawn and seemed pale. None of which could be allowed to prevent Cameron from addressing his reckless, insubordinate behavior.
"Do you have any idea how many USITC, Space Enforcement Agency, FSL, and Navy regulations governing the use of exoatmospheric craft you've bent, broken, or just ignored?" He demanded rhetorically, and continued; "If we were anywhere near a populated star system, I'd beach you with a recommendation that your ticket be revoked, and you be brought up on charges. In fact, I have half a mind to confine you to your quarters, and do it anyway."
Cameron paused for a second, took a long breath, and said: "But before I do, you will explain to me just what the hell you found on that ship, do you hear me?"
Dirk didn't say anything for several seconds; then, in a flat voice seemingly leached of feeling, replied: "I'll tell you as much as I can - but only you - and when I do, I promise you'll wish I never had. I'll be in your office."
He found himself following Dirk out of the well deck, with a sudden chill running down his spine. He suddenly realized what he was hearing in the man's voice; it had taken a few moments for it to register, simply because he'd never heard it from Dirk.
It was fear.
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