Grave to cradle, Arc 3 of "Gone with the Sun"

Chapter 32 Day Zero

Trip trap, on my bridge

Normandy exited the Earth-transit wormhole at the Pluto end, a lot more sedately than it had entered. Ashley walked up from the CIC to the cockpit…

"Okay. What just happened?"

…slowly, deliberately, and not at all losing her cool, she told herself. By the time she tapped Moreau's shoulder, it was actually true, and she was composed.

Whatever the drama had been, they'd just entered normal space through the L-2 relay near Pluto, and the expected view of a dim planet was exactly that displayed. Next stop was the S-1 relay at Pluto's pole.

"Ah well, LC, it was just Cortez screaming like a girl –"

"– I'm a girl and I don't scream like that. I scream differently. Cortez, you OK?"

The co-pilot examined his hands' grip on the (locked) airfoil yoke. His knuckles were white.

"Yes ma'am. Would you really like to know what happened, commander?" Carefully, Cortez willed his hands to release the yoke. Then he clasped his fingers together.

"Should I ever not want to know, I will say so. In your own time, Cortez. Leave out the drama, if possible."

S-1, the entry to Arcturus, was also in a sense relay zero of the N chain building towards the semi-mythical Reaper 'dark space'. S-1 was not in geosynchronous orbit around Pluto. It was on a crystalline column embedded in Pluto's surface, at the north rotational pole, so they were heading for a grazing rendezvous with the surface. So far, so nominal. There was a little time.

"Basically, I thought Joker had lost his mind and was driving us into the moon. I believe he had Bitwise taking pictures, ma'am. Perhaps you should roll 'em."

Bitwise was the name coined for the souped-up VI that had (not) taken EDI's place; it was by common consent a plodding entity dealing with issues one after the other, and only a little bit wise. If Joker had Bitwise recording video of this… event, whatever he'd done was premeditated.

"In a minute. First, Moreau, is there going to be any repetition of that… disturbance on the next jump? Is S-1 where it should be?"

Like the old Charon Relay, indeed like all reaper-based mass relays, S-1's mount was in a predictable position. Endpoint predictability was important for a point-to-point link. (All mass relays are point-to-point, though some change the point they link to).

"Honest, commander, no problem, I just wanted to prove a fast transit was possible. Can you believe I cut eight minutes off the free-space time from Earth orbit to L-1?"

"I do believe it, Joker. I don't think it was worth that noise."

Moreau had become expert in minimizing "drift" for the old relay exit points. Stochastic drift could be tens to thousands of kilometres, depending on transport range (not normally a variable) and mass (usually variable) through the wormhole throat.

Drift was quite bad enough without adding rapid short-radius orbital motion to the calculations. So, a system's old-style mass relay typically stood at least 30AU from the system primary. That is, it was a long way out from the star. The newer small-scale conduit relays… didn't have to be.

"Gah, such a downer. Anyway, it's programmed into Bitwise now, even Cortez could do it just by calling up the follow-me routine."

Moreau had prided himself on being consistently able to drop a two-thousand kilometre drift to fifteen hundred. But the new relays made that achievement pointless. Evidently he was trying to establish new indicia of unique competence. Bloody testosterone.

"I see. Moreau, you are relieved, come with me." Joker went white. Let him sweat.

"Cortez, take us through S-1. Copeland, take the co-pilot's seat, it's time your lessons got past simulators." Ashley pivoted on her heel and strode toward the elevator, not looking to see how badly Moreau was limping behind her, and pondered the problem.

For any two relay endpoints to form a wormhole of the proper capacity they had to use instantaneous communication, which in practice meant an entangled QEC pair. No-one had ever been allowed to fiddle with old-style reaper relay QEC communicators. That was forbidden in the same way that studying keepers had been forbidden… a mysterious rule of great antiquity which might almost have been designed to keep the zoo animals in their cages.

Fiddling had happened anyway, though, by rogue salarians and quarians. Now that the rules were history, they had published some disturbing details concerning reaper relay QEC pairs. They were almost perversely designed to be inaccurate. So the far end of a Reaper wormhole could easily drift a few thousand kilometres from the nominal position, which effectively prevented a relay blockade.

Thus, fiddling could engender new understanding. Ashley Williams wanted no part of fiddling of any kind, though, when she was carrying two Admirals and a Councilor. Time Moreau learned that. She turned and waited for Joker to catch up.

"Elevator to Captain's loft, please. Bitwise, are Hackett and Shepard ready to receive the flight briefing?"

"Yes, Commander, Admiral Shepard has signalled readiness."

Ashley had heard Moreau say that new style prothean-tech conduit relays were "cheating". Their QEC relays were certainly as accurate as turian/human engineering could make them.

Drift two-sigma uncertainty at extreme range, six hundred light years for frigate transport, was only twelve metres – approximately the resolution of pulsar positioning systems.

Any idiot straight out of flight school could look good… except that the Admiralty insisted on mounting them just a few tens of metres, if that, above a planetary or asteroidal surface.

That made the entry point, um, challenging to hit, at speed. So the rule was, and it was very sensible, not to hit the entry point at speed. Just gently cruise on up, on mass effect fields.

Joker finally got in the elevator as the doors closed, looking very glum.

"Moreau. You have twenty seconds. Speak." Let's see the lunatic get out of this.

Joker was prepared. "Ma'am, the exit point of a relay can itself be a weapon for a frigate moving fast enough. If a relay endpoint can be moved in a fraction of a second out of clear space, to a hundred metres from a planetary surface… anyone chasing a fleet frigate could be creamed by switching them to kiss the planet's surface at, say, forty kilometres a second."

"You've been speaking to Tali, Moreau. For strategic reasons conduit relay capabilities are not widely advertised."

"You sure about that, commander? Right now on the extranet there's a few videos of approaches to the L-1 conduit relay on the lunar surface which show a frigate getting to the new Charon relays, like S-1, in a big hurry."

The elevator doors opened. Ashley stepped into the loft lobby, thinking hard.

"All righty, you live another few seconds." The loft door opened and Hackett motioned them in. "Admiral, I've brought Lieutenant Moreau to see you, for disciplinary purposes. First, however, I believe he has something to say about military uses of the local relay network."

In the next few minutes, Joker tried to explain how tactics of rapid transit were becoming a popular exercise among shuttle and frigate pilots. He called up some extranet videos to the display above the private terminals; they made Hannah Shepard gasp, and Ashley was impressed despite herself.

Moreau did not know which Normandy-class frigate was responsible, but suspected the most popular vid to be one produced by that Cat6 youth showboating in Overlord. It didn't show a standard 500kph approach, oh no.

On screen the vid started with the scariest bit of mountains and canyon walls flashing by since Gene Cernan took the primitive Apollo 10 LEM to an orbit just fourteen kilometres above the nominal surface, at six thousand kilometres an hour; and it got worse from there. The vid ended in what looked to be a certain crash on a mountain peak… which was obviated only by entering the wormhole two frames before splat.

"All right, Joker. There is an issue with operational security and deviations from flight plans. That however does not excuse your behavior, trying such approaches with VIPs on board. More immediately, you did not clear the deviation from plan with me."

"Ma'am."

"Do you wish to contest this before a court martial or captain's mast, or will you accept administrative action?"

"Nolo contendere, ma'am."

Suddenly, Ashley was at a loss for what to do. Her immediate reaction had been that withdrawal from flight duties was appropriate. But it flashed before her that Shepard had never had this problem with Joker. She sat back. There was no immediate reaction from the two admirals, who both had solemn faces on.

"So, Joker, now you choose to be a thoughtless idiot. Would you have done this when John Shepard was around?"

Moreau was looking a little green around the gills, as well he might, with Hannah Shepard hanging on every word.

"Or is it just me? You think you can get away with such behaviour because I'm a woman?"

"No, commander. It wasn't really Commander Shepard, and it's not really you. I just… I didn't think it was that big a deal."

Silence ruled. Of course it was that big a deal. Was that the best he could do?

"I mean, I knew I could fly the fast plan."

More silence. Ashley rubbed her forehead. She didn't seem to have a lot of options, here. Joker began looking desperate.

"Commander, I'm sorry. I know I should have asked, and if I'd thought about it I'd not have pulled the stunt while you had the Admirals on board."

Hackett spoke for the first time.

"Never mind us, son. Councilor Tevos is aboard. If you are lucky, she wasn't in the lounge, looking out the window."

Joker looked completely thunderstruck.

"So, you didn't know. Okay. Do you think that matters?"

"No ma'am."

"Quite right. Tell me why not."

"Because… I'm not the officer of the day? I can't possibly know from port to port who I'm carrying?"

"Partial answer, maggot. And?"

"So I can't know when a plan deviation might be in order. And… even if I did… it wouldn't matter… because…"

"You only have the authority to change the flight plan in consultation when necessary with the Captain or XO. And when is such consultation expected?"

"When there's an non-standard maneuver, or an element of risk, ma'am."

"Well done. Was this maneuver non-standard?"

"Yes, commander."

"Was there an element of risk?"

"Yes, commander."

Ashley took in the reactions of Steven Hackett and Hannah Shepard. A spark of understanding passed between them.

"Thank you, lieutenant, you are dismissed, and on administrative leave till ultimate disposition. Inform the OOD and return to your quarters."

"Ma'am." Joker got up, painfully, saluted, painfully, and left. Ashley exhaled.

"Admiral Hackett. Admiral Shepard. I hope you understand why I felt I had to do that before your eyes."

Both nodded. "Commander," said Hackett, "I see no flaw in your resolution of this so far. Before we address the enlightening videos from the Lieutenant, may I ask, is this a result of boredom?"

Ashley thought about this, and reluctantly nodded. "It may well be, sir. He has been complaining about driving a taxi."

Hannah nodded. "Ah. But that is an explanation, not an excuse. We can't have him going on like this."

"The boredom's probably my fault, ma'am–"

"Call me Hannah now, please. It's not your fault. John was constantly in danger or some kind of peril. There is a kind of man who needs that, every so often. I wouldn't have thought it of Joker, but I feel that's what we have here."

"Yes," agreed Hackett. "The steam is merely being let off in an unusual direction."

"So what can we do?"

"If we stop him flying, he will seek a discharge."

"That might be preferable to killing everyone aboard."

"But we, the Navy, would lose a truly superlative pilot."

"Cortez is as good, in his own way. But Jeff is sometimes… inspired."

There was a silence while they looked at this from every angle. Hannah broke it.

"Commander, can I suggest a dual resolution."

"Please do!"

"First, follow your first instinct. Mr Moreau is to be withdrawn from flying duties on the Normandy."

Ashley sighed. "Yes, ma'am. I don't suppose we can do any less."

"Second, I'd like him seconded to the Nest task force, and especially the Orizaba. After he's had a couple of days to think about his actions."

"Can do. Won't he be bored?"

"I think not. I'm going to have him piloting the Kilimanjaro a little. We've been having trouble with precise positioning of conduit relays. A dreadnought's a huge beast to control within centimetres."

"Ah. He actually might enjoy that. Except it involves going slow."

"But slow with precision."

"Yes, that might make a difference. Also, I wonder if Mikhailovich will explode."

"That's why I want him on the Orizaba. Coats is in command over there. It will also reduce the risk of Moreau forgetting himself. Commander Williams, I don't wish to demean your command skills in any way, but there is one thing about men like James Coats and John Shepard –"

Ashley raised a hand: "Their men, if not the women, get a subconscious prickling in their gut, where the knife would come in?"

"That's a vivid description, Ashley. What inspired it?"

"From whispers about Shepard in action, Hannah. Against a man called Leng."

– Next chapter will be #33, "First Dog Watch…" –

Tuesday, July 21, 2015 -6/6-