OBT Forum

  Author’s note; this next bit is heavy on the politics of the New Clans.  Sorry about that.  I’m trying to write it as I type – a new experience for me, I’m afraid.  Since I’m not allowing myself repeated edits, you’re kinda stuck with it.  Yes, I considered a ‘quote from a textbook’ approach, but that isn’t how it worked out.  Enjoy.


  He found himself waiting to see the Captain for several hours, but after explaining the situation and honestly apologizing for the slight it didn’t quite seem to convince the man of his good intentions.  His anxiety propelled him to continue long after the Captain assured him the mistake was minor and easily forgiven, going so far as to promising to move the AR-15 project to the top of the Caste’s priority list and light the fire the Captain had suggested under them to pressure the team to move quickly.

  Finally, the Captain had told him to go away in no uncertain terms, and rather than make the situation worse, he had gone back to his quarters to worry.  He considered leaving the ship before he made matters worse, but decided to simply lie low for the rest of the trip rather than risk insulting the Captain anew.  Speaking privately with Bob and Greg, they both agreed the Captain was probably willing to ignore it given the circumstances, and the three of them agreed finishing the immigration process as soon as possible was his best bet to learn how not to deepen the mess he was in.  Surprisingly, the complete series of immigration briefings were available in the Ship’s computer, and Jeremy made it a point to stay in his quarters for the next couple of days reading and watching the material, eventually strapping himself into his chair as Kraken’s acceleration began to taper off.

  The federally designed program provided a workbook to go along with the courses and as the Jump Warning sounded and announced a Jump was imminent, he found himself nearly finished.  Reviews and exams were almost the only things remaining of the course, and he found himself nearly sorry it was over.  Well, at least it will be soon.

  Leaning back and waiting for the Jump, he had to admit the material was fascinating.  No wonder they joke about Petri dishes and compost, he thought as he stretched arms and legs sore from staying at the desk for so long.  The whole Cluster is one big compromise.

  Segments like the Cluster’s Civilian Charter spelled out the rights of civilians under both the Civilian Government and how they related to relations with the New Clans, and the difference was enough to make him shiver.  The months leading up to the decision to leave Wake on a tour of Scientist-run facilities had been like dancing in a minefield he hadn’t known about, depending on others to interface with the rest of society.  Bob in particular had been squeezed into a corner, working with the KPA and Caste authorities to carry out policy handed down by his boss, who had no idea what he was asking for and had the ability to effectively banish Bob in a fit of pique if it wasn’t done to his satisfaction.

  Looking back on it, it explained Dr. Szech’s behavior as well.  When the Wolverines had ‘Spawned’ the First Clans in an effort to preserve the assets of the colony expedition they had accompanied to the Cluster, they had simultaneously rid themselves of most of the political pressure to preserve the Warrior Caste’s authority and provided an incentive for them to try and meet the remaining colonists half-way as they tried to absorb the most valuable civilians to enrich themselves.  He found himself thankful Sara McEvedy had apparently refused to use Kerensky’s methods of dealing with a similar situation in the Kerensky Cluster.

I imagine it must have been something similar to what it was like in the Inner Sphere during the Clan Invasion, none of the Castes or civilians having any idea how to work together. They must have been livid at the need to support immigration from the Inner Sphere, too, given how McEvedy’s successor had announced the Second Clans.

  Within fifty years, IlClan Wolverine was a flaming liberal compared to the more conservative First Clans, rapidly recovering in terms of population and industrial growth with the bulk of immigration benefiting them.  The call to Spawn a second line of Clans to oppose Kerensky’s forces should they be pursued and discovered had effectively set them back heavily in terms of population and industrial assets, and while they had kept the majority of modern military equipment concentrated in their hands they had been forced to turn to Primitive technology to provide the Second Clans with the means to protect themselves in a military society.

    The Sonoma Accord, proposed and rammed through the Legacy Grand Council by those Clans, declared their capital worlds off-limits to Trials leaving the First Clans struggling to provide the basics for themselves when the opportunity to declare Trials for supplies and equipment they no longer possessed was restricted to the original worlds of the Cluster and the so-called ‘Faction Worlds’ that had sprung up since.

Now that must have been a bitter pill for the Warrior Castes of the First Clans to accept.  I’d wager the Second Clans are just as flaming liberal, given the need to appeal to immigrants to grow their populations and economy.  Just my luck to be adopted into one of the few to guarantee the ‘inalienable right of the Warrior to lead and defend their society.’  The hardliners must know they’re going to be overwhelmed economically eventually.  I wonder if that’s the real reason the Krakens are constructing a fleet.

  As the thirty-second countdown began, he shook his head.  He had no control over the grand strategies of the New Clans, only a fraction over his own, and didn’t even control all of his own Caste.  Right now, his job was to finish the immigration briefs, read the book of Naval etiquette Bob had found for him and hopefully put another blunder behind him.  But as the countdown crept closer to zero, he found himself wishing he had chosen one of the more liberal groups of the Cluster.

  A day and a half later, eight more proposals were set aside for further examination with six others denied for various reasons, although at least one author claimed to have continued researching his proposal and had agreed to re-submit it when he was ready, and the latest Merchant-Class courier had just Jumped into the system as Kraken was preparing to depart.

  Ciara had been reticent to discuss her decision, but eventually decided to make time for their discussion, if only to take advantage of the Forecast’s arrival to get it out of the way so she could forward the paperwork to the saKhan quickly.  The young woman had experienced a combination of factors that contributed to the decision, but the constant threat of a Trial declared over a situation or decision had finally pushed her over the edge.

  Finally, she had finished the interview and had gone onto the skin of the ship to enjoy the solitude and vista of the stars.  Curious, Jeremy had accompanied her, and the two of them were enjoying the opportunity to see the stars up close and get to know each other.

  “Has Forecast acknowledged receipt, Bob?”

  Strapped into his chair in the conference room until the Kraken Jumped out of the system, Bob’s voice came through Jeremy’s headset perfectly.  “Yep.  They’re headed for Wake, so they should be able to get there by the time we arrive at Motte and the Heartforge facility.  Are you inside yet?”

  “Ciara’s having trouble with the lock.”

  “Jim, times running out – we’re on lock down right now.”

  “Maybe you should go ahead and call the captain, ask for a delay to Jump.  Ciara and I are still out here on the hull.”

  Ciara turned from the lock, interrupting the conversation.  “Something’s wrong with the lock.  We need to contact the Captain and get them to cancel the Jump.”

  “I’ll get on it right away”, Bob said sharply, reaching toward the screen.

  “NO!,” snapped Ciara.  “I can’t reach anybody with suit comms.  Have one of the security team use theirs, get them to stop the Jump!”

  “Oh,” he said, jerking his hand back.  “Right.  Be right back.”

  With that done, Ciara moved to the inspection port to open it up and begin checking connections and diagnostics.

“Anything?”

  “Its turned off…  There’s no power to the lock!”

  “How did that happen?”

  “I don’t know!  Airlocks have a backup power system – it should be impossible.”

  Jeremy could feel his body tense, moving closer to the lock to try and look over Ciara’s shoulder.  “Can you fix it?”

  “There’s nothing to fix.  Give me a hand, here.  Brace and pull this handle!”

  Jeremy and Ciara braced their feet on opposite sides of the inspection port, pulling on the handle.  As it slowly came out, it finally locked, spilling out an invisible blast of air that caught Jeremy by surprise, magnetic boots loosing contact with the hull as the explosive decompression buffeted him.  Spiraling into the void, he started screaming over the radio, flailing for the security line connected to the hull until the line reached its end and swung him back towards the hull.

  Nooo!  Shit, shit, shit…  Striking the hull was bad enough and his left arm took the brunt of the impact, bouncing off the hull and drifting back into space as the line twisted crazily around and behind him was even worse.  Strike that – my arm hurts.  Shit!

  The ship and stars took turns filling his view as he tumbled, and the jerk as he reached the end again caused his shoulder to flare in pain.  He did manage to grip the line in his good hand, trying to remember the lessons months ago on how to handle the situation.  His arm hurt, but he was able to grip the line tightly in the hand and give a gentle pull with his good arm to pull himself towards the ship and the end of the line.

  “Ciara!  Ciara!  Bob!”

As the line tightened and the ship came into view – albeit turning crazily – he saw Ciara watching him, pointing at her chest. 

Shit!

  Trusting his right to hold the line, he gently pulled another short length of the line towards him, transferring it to his other hand and focused on the small mirror at the top of his visor, fumbling with a small handle on his chest before finally being able to pull it out to the stop.  A dim red LED light came to life on his chest, blinking in time to the independent emergency radio blasting out the millennia-old distress signal of Morse code.  Not daring to stop, he took another length of the safety line and kept up the slow, gentle motions that started to become easier as his momentum towards the ship grew.

  The ship continued to grow in his vision, and Ciara’s voice suddenly cut into the labored breathing and grunts of pain as the injured arm was pulled back and forth across his body.

  “Jim!  Come in!”

  “I’m here.  Sorry-”

  “Don’t worry about that – you need to get closer to the hull!  We’re about to Jump!”

  Shit, shit, shit…!

  “Brace!”, Bob’s voice came over the channel.  “Five-Four-Three-Two-Jump!”

  With the warning, he took the line in both hands and gave a yank that hurt his shoulder enough to numb the hand, but gave him enough slack to wrap the line around his left and clamp down on it as hard as he could.

  When it came, he felt the Jump like nothing he had experienced before.


*edit- Confused left and right.

Wow, that was tough.  I've been keeping notes in the bottom of the Word document, but made some errors I had to correct when I copy-pasted, like the injured arm.  Four and a half pages of text, took quite a while.  Might skip tomorrow, got some chores.

For a page and a half, that was rough.  Took forever, too.  I'm not very good at the hesaid-hesaid kind of thing, but I had to break the rule on editing a couple times, tweaking until I found something I could accept.  Best I could do, anyway.

  Jeremy could feel a scowl forming on his face as his next visitor walked through the hatch and began strapping into a chair.  “‘Accident’?”



<Chapter 4>

  Quarters aboard the CKS Merger were a step down, but the Jumpship was two Jumps away from home and, well, sacrifices had to be made for a full 30 LY Jump.  Besides, Captain Hagman had been remarkably petty when it turned out none of the native-born officers aboard had the qualifications to replace Star Commander Murphy.  Something she had been rather smug about.

  Waiting for the Merchant and its pair of Dropships, Good Deal and Gone Bust, had been boring and hectic by turns as data was transmitted to the new ship and personal belongings packed, but Ciara had also been forced to pack up a small laboratory she had been working with in her off hours.  Navigating the maze of bureaucracy with Bob and Ciara to get her transferred from her Caste was…

  Well.  The Captain was unhappy to have lost a qualified officer and only the fact he was able to intercede for ‘humanitarian reasons’ to keep her experiencing as few Jumps as possible allowed her to avoid serving for the remainder of the mission until the Kraken returned to Wake.  It had been a case of finding paperwork, convincing the Captain and his officers to cooperate, and he had refused to delay the next Jump beyond the bare minimum.

  Ciara had been oddly non-committal during the arguments on her behalf, and he found himself looking at her expectantly, given her response to the insinuation at the Captain’s dinner.  When more of the data he and Bob had been waiting for arrived just before leaving, they had played ‘hot potato’ with the data as the Merger had to get the data transferred from the Kraken before Jumping.

  Eventually things had died down, and the two found themselves discussing their experiences aboard the Kraken.  They had stayed up late indulging in a bit of bootleg Screech she had brought with her – diluted to something that wasn’t going to smash them flat immediately - and she had confided a few things that made his own experiences during the ‘accident’ seem fairly ordinary.  She had also been moving through a completely different society, where circumstances were different and experiences were shared among others with the condition.

  For example, Ciara had confirmed that most of the people who experienced exposed Jumps suffered from TDS afterward.  She had also revealed that the best Jump navigators had developed what they termed “an affinity’ for calculating and forecasting them, to the point people would deliberately expose themselves repeatedly seeking to enhance their reputation.  Personally, he found the concept absurd, but Ciara insisted.

  The ‘visions’ haed been more problematic.  The experience was something he would not, no, could  not forget, but he had shied away from discussing them until he was drunk enough to either lower his inhibitions against involving himself with a subordinate or discuss the astounding potential outcomes of a career he had considered ruined after the events on New Avalon that had prompted him to flee to the Outback and then volunteer for the one-way trip to an unknown destination deeper into the Periphery in the hope of escaping his pursuers.

  He had been relieved when Ciara had dismissed it with a wave of giggles, spilling her drink and rolling on the floor of the cargo deck where they had hidden to talk privately, although the experience had dented his male ego.  Conversely, he had eventually convinced her to stop giggling long enough to change the topic, and ruthlessly dragged the subject of her proposal out of her.  She had proposed experiments that took advantage of the New Clan ‘black box’ technology to try and identify possible lines of research which might lead to improved K-F drives, but the expense had seemed insurmountable.  Since their discussion aboard the Kraken, however, she had become obsessed with new methods of ship construction, producing poured, shaped, or encased components with a variety of substances.

  Several of her experiments had shown unexpected outcomes, and his description of the drone he had witnessed in his vision had excited her before the two of them had eventually collapsed in a drunken stupor to be found ‘spooning’ by the crew hours later as the ship prepared to Jump.   The experience had certainly driven home the idea of avoiding Jumps as much as possible, as they had made the Jump sedated in the Merger’s infirmary with massive doses of Dralaxine and precautions to prevent drowning in their own vomit and feces.

  Waking eight hours later the pain had been significant, but chemistry had eventually allowed him to walk out of the compartment and fervently wish for a real shower to cleanse himself after the experience.  He had experienced none of the discomfort or psychosis he associated with the last series of Jumps, but Ciara had insisted on remaining conscious for the experience to confirm her own belief that the event had effectively ended her naval career.  Apparently the diagnosis adequately confirmed her suspicions sufficiently that even the corpsman had appeared slightly nauseous.

  Beyond documenting the results in reports for the saKhan and the rest of the bureaucrats involved, he had no desire to involve himself in the details.  Waiting for her to be released while the crew prepared for the next Jump, he and Bob had continued with the business of running the Caste, but he found it difficult to concentrate on the work.  Hopefully, the next Jump would end with his fervent oath to never board another Jumpship.


  Crap.  Never. Again.

  He and Ciara had transferred to the Good Deal before the Jump to hook themselves up the limited medical facilities on the Dropship, for all the good it had done.  His own experience had been…  Difficult.  Remaining conscious for the experience had been a mistake, even pumped full of Dralaxine and analgesics.  The vertigo, vomiting and nausea had been bad enough but the auditory and visual psychosis had returned, and the ‘Choir’ had been the least of it.  The visual stimuli had run gamut of somehow linking him to a failed coup attempt, another glint of a relationship with Ciara, experiencing some kind of animal attack, and another piece of some kind of scientific advancement in the process of going wrong.

  Ciara had agreed to sedation and was still in the Dropship’s Infirmary, having found or rigged some kind of half-mask that with the catheter from her skinsuit allowed her a trace of modesty, although the suit’s containment had been bypassed to allow for the volume recorded from her last Jump.  His symptoms had lasted long enough to complicate the trip from L2 to final approach necessitating airsick bags and anti-nausea medication but he had been firm when requesting she be kept sedated for two of Wake’s 25.3 hours days before allowing her to waken. 

  Well, she had been cashiered for TDS, may as well play it up and spare her some of the misery.

  As the Dropship was grounded for the next couple weeks at least as crew took ‘grav leave’ to help fend off bone and muscle loss , he had requested permission for the two of them to remain on board to help reduce the effect of their TDS.  He had considered leaving Ciara here to convalesce alone, but couldn’t bring himself to try moving into new quarters in Wake’s Scientist Compound while he was still feeling slightly disoriented and dealing with more bouts of nausea and vertigo.

  Still, he couldn’t put off the eventual welcome to Wake’s Scientist Compound any longer, and if he felt much better he couldn’t help feeling that he was abandoning Ciara while she still had a day and a half to recover alone before reporting to the Compound for orientation and reassignment.

  “I’ll have Bob arrange something temporary for the rest of the week.  Where you go after that is out of my hands after that, but you can contact me if you need something,” he said quietly into the comm.

  “Thanks,” came back Ciara’s low whisper.

  “Think nothing of it Miss Murphy.  Good bye, and good luck.”

  Ending the call, he took a few seconds to assemble his small bag of clothes and medications, then made his way through the ship to formally debark and arrange for a ride to the Compound and his new quarters. 

Good luck RP! Update us from time to time.