Chapter 2: From the Com Room
It was fascinating, sometimes, at how each member of the crew reacted to on-planet leave. Jon didn't pay all that close attention to his charges when he let them loose across wherever (generally Kalim, but sometimes they had the opportunity to rest elsewhere). However, there were times when he just couldn't avoid learning what the crew was up to.
Riley liked to shop. When offloaded onto a planet, she headed into some market or a store or whatever seemed to be available and had at least one new article of clothing when she returned to the ship. What else she did was a mystery, but Jon had a feeling that it was all she did. She was one of the members of the crew that didn't complain much about long times without leave. He wondered how she fit all the clothes he saw her in in her room, though. Not that he'd go in.
Ifil... he was fond of bars. Not of bar fights, oddly, but he loved a stiff drink in him. Jon had gone drinking with him one time only to barhop because the bars they picked got a fight less than ten minutes into their visit. Four separate times. Jon had actually been impressed at how quickly Ifil had gotten the two of them out despite being in the middle of the last fight. After that, though, Jon had stayed away from bars with Ifil. It just seemed like so much work to have a good time. Or even be able to enjoy a whole beer.
Paul had been the easiest to figure out. He liked heading to a sport contest if he could wrangle it, and he managed tickets for less money more often than Jon had realized was possible. Paul had even managed enough tickets for the whole crew once. It had been enjoyable, but Jon preferred watching any sort of thing like that on a screen. No mingling with the great unwashed. He liked his personal space, thank-you-very-much.
Wendy... no one knew anything about Wendy's habits. She disappeared... and came back. No fuss, no objects to or from. Just... gone and back. Nor did she answer any questions about it. Not that Jon asked. Or listened when others asked. That would have been improper.
Naomi was the easiest. She just followed Jon.
Jon went out to buy things when it was for the good of the ship, but most of the time he was the one who (along with Naomi) remained on the ship to make sure that there wasn't any funny business attempted with his Silver Blur. It was his ship; it made sense that he had the most protectiveness toward it. Besides, his crew had earned the leave, and he didn't like to take away from any of it if he could help it.
This time was no exception... for any of the crew. Riley was off with her share as quickly as the ship had touched down and she could walk away from the con. Ifil was off with his in a leisurely stroll shortly after. Paul had invited Jon to the 'tackle' game that was in town, but Jon turned him down. Wendy was gone at some point in all the hubbub, leaving the Captain and first mate remaining on the boarding ramp. Jon hadn't even seen Wendy leave, but he knew she was already off the ship somehow.
"Well, that starts our six hours of break," Jon said aloud, stretching. "Sure you don't want to go out?" he asked his companion. He knew the answer.
"I don't."
"Alright," Jon replied. He walked back into the ship and closed up the boarding ramp before leading the way back to the kitchen, where snacks were duly fetched (a brownie for Jon, a pair of cookies for Naomi and milk for the pair), and then off to the communications room, where Jon flipped around the nets for news of events in his neck of the woods. He wasn't all that successful.
"You too can be a star! For three easy pay-"
Crackle
"-another way to run the track is to make sure that you stay on the insi-"
Crackle
"ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT FOREST FIRES!"
The giant bear nearly made Jon drop his snack, which would have been quite unfortunate. He flicked on.
Crackle
"But that leaves Feilhauser on a run down the left side! He's all alone, there's no one who's going to catch him! Just the keeper to beat... he makes a great move to the inside and lifts the ball to... NO! HE MISSED HIGH! What a glorious chance to end the clean sheet wasted!"
If it weren't 7-0, he might have watched that game.
Crackle
"-his own daughter.
"In other local news, there have been readings of large magical events, such as a ship travelling through dimensional space, on the furthest reaches of the sensors on some of the gamma border worlds." Jon sat up to listen closer, as did his partner. "As no contact has been made with the owners of these mysterious ships, the question remains as to whether this is just one of the ships from somewhere inside the Malainian Alliance who are just too lost to make it back to civilization, or if there's another world that has managed to create dimensional transfer abilities. Alliance officials decline to comment, but the local patrols have been fanning out to farther and farther reaches of dimensional space lately. Maybe they're being careful about the first contact with such a civilization. But all of that is speculation. For in-depth analysis, we turn to Ron Stevens, our Kalim Sensory Office Reporter. Ron?"
"Thank you, Stan." The anchor had faded out of the frame, to be replaced by a man with the background of what was obviously the local world's dimensional sensor station in orbit. "The first sightings were only five days ago, but the sightings have become more and more common in the days since. Our latest information indicates that only one of the signatures has been a ship; the rest have been simply larger and larger magical workings. Even the most in-depth analysis of these readings hasn't determined what the goal of such magical powers are being used for. None of it, however, seems to be directed in the direction of Alliance worlds, and that's plenty for this analyst. We will, however, continue to watch such strange readings and be sure to let you, our esteemed viewers, know when we know more about the mysterious phenomena. Stan?"
"Thank you for your report, Ron. A Kalim native has one the Alliance lottery, but has not yet come forward to receive his cash. He has only four more da-"
Flicking off the feed, Jon thought to himself for a second about the story. He then shook his head. It wasn't really the kind of thing that he was used to hearing from the news. Heck, he probably knew more about the worlds that didn't know about the existence of the Empire than anyone in the news industry. A long time ago he thought it was because citizens of the Empire weren't allowed to be on worlds that hadn't officially joined (or been 'convinced') yet. But he realized later that it was more that the citizens (and by extension, news organizations) just didn't care. It was a shame. Sometimes products that made lives easier were only available from such places.
It was for such reasons that he was able to get jobs out here, though, so he didn't mind so much. It was more of a question he asked himself about humanity on occasion: why not actually care about the universe around you? But no, everyone was all me, me, me. It was... disheartening.
At least there were some people who made sense. He looked over at Naomi, who took that moment to pop the rest of the cookie into her mouth while looking at him dispassionately. Well, 'making sense' wasn't exactly what he meant, anyway.
But the news did give him the idea that he should be the one to check this out. He had a fast ship, a quick-acting and talented crew (if he did say so himself)... all that was really stopping him was the fact that he couldn't think of a way to get paid for his efforts in figuring out what was behind these signals.
Jon was interrupted from his thoughts when the com gave the trilling sound that meant that someone was attempting to connect to him. How convenient. Maybe some money? Maybe enough money to take the time to investigate the outer edges of the known dimensional space? When the screen showed the local Magistrate's secretary, he instantly became less willing to do whatever they had in mind. "Horace!" he said, feigning pleasant surprise with all of his might. "What might I do for you this fine, fine day?"
Horace's lifted eyebrow told Jon that he had failed. Again. "I was under the impression that it was raining where your ship is docked."
Geez, a technicality on his assertion of a nice day? The stick up this guy's ass must've twisted upward an inch or two since Jon last saw him. "Any day I cut loose and relax is a fine day. What do you need, Horace?"
Horace looked simply like he'd rather be doing anything else but this, so it made sense that he cut the... ah... 'pleasantries'... if anything that Horace did could count as 'pleasant'... and got right down to business. "Have you heard about the signals that we have been picking up beyond the gamma border?"
"I have. What of them?" Jon's eyebrows were up not because of his acting. Was his worst thorn about to hand him the precise mission he wanted for money?
"We want to know what they are, now, since the news feeds have started to pick up the story. We'd be in a little pickle if the Feds realized that we were picking up signals and not doing a damn thing about them. They're rather picky about the border like that."
"I hadn't heard." He was!
Horace gave him a look. "Since you seem to be around and available, the Magistrate figures you might be a good idea for this mission with that rumoured speedy ship that you're lounging about in just picking up dust instead of doing good for the Alliance."
"I'm listening."
Horace sighed. "Mercenaries; you all care about just one thing."
"Staying afloat. How much are you donating to the cause today, sir?"
"Twenty-thousand. No argument, no haggle. Take it or leave it."
Jon pretended to think about it. They were clearly desperate, as that was enough cash for a month's worth of missions, and nearly two-and-a-half months of 'staying afloat'. Plenty of time to get out to wherever this was, figure out what was going on, and then get back to Kalim. And have a leisurely time finding more missions for a few months. Jon idly wondered whether Horace knew that. It did bring up that it was possible they expected him to be lost on the mission, and use it to justify bringing in a detachment of Imperial ships... maybe even a fleet, if Jon was willing to send back his mayday.
He wasn't. They probably knew that, though.
"Where am I going, then?"
Horace's picture shrunk into the upper-right-hand corner of the feed and the rest of the screen took on an animation of zooming out from a world that Jon had never seen before, until it was a tiny dot. "Our sensor ranges have expanded from when you last worked on a border patrol," Horace told him. "The old range is what was leaked to the press, so they don't know that we know precisely where these signals are coming from." A red circle appeared around the world, now a dot, that the screen had started all the way zoomed in on. "This is the target planet, currently codenamed 'Gamma Light'. A green circle appeared all the way across the dimensional map, with a line connecting the two circles with the distance measured as "Sixteen thousand dimensional units away from Kalim, it's too far away for us to reach and come back in under a month. Rumor is that you could."
"If we did nothing there but thumb our nose, sure."
"You will be doing more than thumb your nose, but you can clearly do it faster than any units we have access to directly." Horace sneered a little bit, but he controlled it quickly. "You will determine what is doing whatever that is showing up on our sensors, and if you deem it prudent, stop it. Regardless of your actions pertaining to the phenomena, you are to give us a full report on the civilization there, particularly the party responsible for the large magical signatures."
Jon nodded. "Payment method?"
"Full payment upon your successful return." Alright, he definitely thought the Silver Blur was going to explode out there.
"I'll take your job, then Horace. I'll need a clearance to head out in that direction when I lift-off; how long will that take?"
"Another three hours, at least."
"Plenty," Jon said. "I'll be underway just before 2100 local time."
"That's a long time," Horace said accusingly.
"Sure," Jon agreed. "I just got here and my crew needs at least a little of the down time I promised them. Twenty-one hundred, Horace."
"Fine," Horace answered, clearly unhappy as he closed the connection.
"Well," Jon said, turning to Naomi. "We have ourselves a job; we should probably make sure we have everything we need so that Paul and Riley can have us in tip-top shape for this one. We'll go once they're all back and someone can watch the ship." Naomi didn't answer, but that was probably because she realized that Jon was talking to himself.
