"Do what you will," Flake said, lowering his head.
John looked over toward Penny resting on the biobed across with his wife standing beside her holding onto a hand.
"You tried to save us," John said, turning his attention on Flake. "And as of now, you're going to help us with the repairs of the ship."
Flake looked up in alarm toward John.
"But. . . but. . . but," Flake said.
"We can't afford to be hostile with each other," John said. "We have to rely on each other to survive. We have to stick together if we have any chances of getting to Alpha Prime."
"Understood," Flake said, with a nod.
"Can we repair the damage done to the robot?" John asked.
"The damage I did," Flake said. "I believe you'll got sufficient repairs for in its station. I am unfamiliar to it but I can try doing my best."
"Good," John said. "Do it to the best of your ability." He came over toward his small family then placed a hand on Maureen's shoulder.
Flake got off the biobed then walked on out.
"Will," John said.
"Yes, dad?" Will said, looking up.
"How do you feel about trying out the robot's personal holographic stand in?" John asked. "After the Robot is off the bridge."
"That would be awesome," Will said. "I thought I would get the grip on using it during the mission but not before."
"We're in a brand new place," John said. "We can deal with surprises."
Penny's eyes opened.
"Mooom," Penny said. "Where's the crown prince of Isrealdeal?"
"Right on this bed," Maureen said, as sighs of relief surrounded the young girl.
"Good morning, Penny," Will said.
"I don't feel too good," Penny said, her eyes briefly closing.
"You're be better," Maureen said, stroking Penny's short hair. "Eventually. That is your sea legs."
"Urrggghh," Penny said.
Maureen and John shared a smile.
Don finished the fighting with the fire within the hour. He chucked the device out through the doors. The empty device was flying out into space flying behind the Jupiter 2. Don sighed, pressing himself against the seat. He had just seen what all pilots had wished they wouldn't see. He closed his eyes then reopened them facing his problem. He heard the sound of heavy footsteps headed his way. He looked over to see the professor with a concerned look on his face.
"Where are we?" John asked.
"Lost in space. . . I can't see any familiar constellations." Don said. "Our star charts can't help us."
"At least we're alive," John said.
"I think we could make it if we pass by some help aliens to give us a copy of their star charts," Don said.
"We can make that work," John said.
"I doubt that we can get it first. . . and they probably won't speak English," Don said. "we're going to have friendly fire at this rate." A confident smile grew on the John's face.
"I think our penacing terrorist could do us more good during the repairs," John said.
"What makes you think he won't back stab us?" Don asked.
"It's not in his best interest to die," John said. "And you didn't kill him."
"You got me," Don said, holding his hands up. "He has some guts for owning up to it and fixing his mess," he lowered his hands down to his lap. "I respect that."
"What was the last thing you sent to Alpha Control?" John asked.
"What I knew had happened and the status of the crew at the moment," Don said. "We're on our own."
"That says scanner says we're not alone if I am not mistaken," John said.
"It does. . ." Don said. "We got enough fuel to last us twenty years." he held his hands up. "Luckily, the deutronium wasn't vaporized in the sabotage. . ." he lowered his hands onto the console. "Though I would like if we started approaching alien ships after we're done with the repairs."
"They could help us with the repairs," John said.
"Not everyone is goody two shoes, Professor," Don said. "I wish it were that way. We're colonists not explorers."
"We have to make friends if we are to get to Alpha Prime," John said. "Do your best to hail them. . ." he observed the major. "We're not going back into stasis pods any time soon so get comfortable."
John walked away.
"Hey!" Don called. "I am comfortable!" He turned back toward the large console. "Give me a ship to sail. Give me a louder voice to claim. Give me a kingdom to reign. Give me a brain to aim. . . " he looked toward the discarded head set. "And sanity to keep myself together."
The camera sizzled in the corridor. Two words appeared in rounded balls at the top of the screen reading Penny Vision. The screen was shaded a shade of orange and purple making Penny's dark theme contrast against it. She held her wrist bracelet up above her.
"Day 1 of a failed mission aboard the Jupiter 2," Penny said. "we're stranded in space because of numerous sabotage to the ship, almost got killed by the Robot helper aboard the ship, a traitor pretty much saved us lives, and we're going to live off rations," she strolled down the corridor. "So I have become accustomed to the ship over the past few hours. Dad assigned me to video mechanics on the bridge and told me to put my hand into making a 'universal translator'-LIKE DAD, I AM NOT A GENIUS or anything just because I am very accustomed to technology doesn't mean I can create something new out of something old. Not like I taken apart pieces of tech just to fix them out of boredom or something like that." Yet, her face said otherwise regarding the last part.
Penny entered the work room.
"And this is our chief of engineer's workroom," Penny said. "Hello, Mr Flake," she walked around the man. "How is the repairs doing?"
Flake grunted.
"Difficult," Flake said. "Repairing the Robot that shot me isn't fun." He looked up. "A Rambler-Crane Series Robot . . . Just my luck."
"Oh, so it shot you?" Penny asked.
"Uh huh," Flake said, rubbing where his injury had been. "It hurt like hell."
Penny looked up toward the deactivated Robot.
"Generation fifty-eight," Penny said. "I read it was supposed to be that way."
"I am going to decrease the power in its lasers in a new subroutine in case it is going to shoot at any of us," Flake said. He held the scrub up and waved it at the young girl. "Now shoo!" he waved his fingers. "You shouldn't be here."
"Fiiine," Penny said, turning the bracelet up toward the Robot. "This is the Robot that tried to kill us. It's perfectly sa-" she jumped back when the Robot's arm reached forward. "I take it back, it's dangerous."
"That's a post mortem reflex," Flake said. "This is why I should be the only one here." Penny lowered the bracelet with a curious gaze at the Robot.
"Doesn't post mortem mean its dead?" Penny asked.
"Yes," Flake said. "It's not dead-dead. It's mostly dead."
"Uh. . . seems like it's almost dead to me," Penny said, irked.
"All I need to do is remove the bad programming and then this personality less Robot can be back to its old self as it can be," he patted on the Robot's chest plating ever so lightly. "You don't need to be scared," he looked over toward Penny. "It's not a tank."
"I didn't say it was a tank," Penny said, playing with the detached wrist bracelet. She aimed the bracelet back in the direction of the Robot. "And this is the Robot helper that tried to kill us. For scientific purposes, it's a dud. For betrayal purposes, it's a great way of getting what you want. For comical purposes, it could be a flamboyant Robot with a personality. But since Generation Fifty-Eight's do not have AI's, it's just a boring and dull piece of machinery."
"It has some personality," Flake insisted. "Loyal, law abiding, and protective." he looked on sadly. "This machine might need to be scrapped."
"Is that good news?" Penny aimed the camera toward him.
"Not really," Flake said, gazing up. "Robots do the heavy work," he looked on toward her. "What did I say?"
"I should not be here," Penny said. "I actually have to because dad needs a universal translator made."
"You need alien databanks for that," Flake said, then he handed Penny a head set from the table alongside him. "You might want to start here for making a instantaneous universal translator with the computer."
Penny nodded.
"I'll see what I can do to make it smaller," Penny said, then away she went leaving the workroom.
Flake watched the young girl leave the room then turned his attention onto the Robot.
It was in the middle of the night that Judy woke up. The sonic shower took off the grime and dirt from her skin sinking it down to the faucet. If they went into space without a sonic shower, then it would have been decided that everyone took a shower once a week. Showering would have been rationed all together. However, the rationing of food was still put in place featuring packets that had to be heated up. She was in her slightly bright, sedated outfit. She could hear the sounds of metal screaming when she looked over to see Flake performing repairs. He was pulling a all nighter. A part of her pitied him for taking the time out of the day, alone, to make the repairs.
Judy made her way to the bridge.
"Why are you still up?" Judy asked.
"I did my part in the repairs," Don said. "I am not used to be ordered around by a captain. Claimed I needed to get some sleep and said he could finish off the rest of the repairs by himself."
"He's a captain?" Judy asked.
"Apparently he lead some of the lower deck construction," Don said, with a shrug. "Thankfully, the bridge didn't need that much of our handiwork."
"And you're still up because you can't sleep," Judy said.
Don pointed to the screen.
"So far, there have no responses from the alien ship," Don said, leaning into the chair. Judy came over to his side.
"None?" Judy asked. "Not even a friendship frequency?"
"There's no gibberish, no noises that could be in Morse code, or a random frequency," Don said. "This ship is going to be battle ready in a few hours with the repairs that Flake is doing." Judy looked on ahead.
"It's dark out there," Judy said. "Before this mission started, I felt that nothing is going to be same because of this mission. I always felt that," Judy had a hand on her side. "and now that it is happening . . . I am in disbelief."
"No one can believe when what they expect is tossed aside," Don said. "Space is unexpected. Remember those Scifi tv shows and movies?" he raised a brow return with a smile. "Space is a big place that is full of surprises."
"That wasn't real," Judy said. "Space might have big teeth and be reasonable about it. Not silly but still dangerous and threatening."
"No, I'm talking about the dark gritty scifi," Don said. "That could be our reality. We could die in space and no one comes to our rescue."
Judy nodded, grimly.
"We can only hope it won't be that disgusting," Judy said.
"It won't be disgusting," Don said.
"How are you so sure about that?" Judy asked.
"Some of the planets that were picked up are not poisonous or cannibalistic," he shuddered.
"I know the lifeforms on those planets could be harmless," Judy said. "But this is a entirely different system. What we know of those planets is out. We might cross paths with cannibalistic, gassy parasites."
"Pee yew," Don said.
"Got that right," Judy said. "I never thought my medical skills would have to be applied in space."
"Really?" Don asked. "Your father said you were able to adapt to their differences."
"That was a fantasy thought," Judy said. "the chances of meeting them were slim then and they are higher now," she looked on worringly, toward the view screen. "What if I can't save one on my watch? What if I let it die then chose to study it?"
"Hey, hey," Don said. "Maybe you should take your thoughts off it and think about your other skills. I heard your singing," Don looked up toward the woman. "Why didn't you choose to be a singer?"
"I considered it," Judy said. "Briefly. . ." she had a fond smile at memory that crossed her mind. "Medical science drew my attention." she turned her attention toward Don with her hands placed together. Her curly blonde hair resting on her shoulder, a lovely light was in her eyes, and she looked happy. "It's interesting, its mind boggling, and mysterious, and sometimes I wish I didn't know the things I did. I wish I went into the singing profession. I wouldn't be wrecked with anxiety regarding the aliens. I can't sleep with the thought of it on my mind. " She had a regretful sigh. "I wish I could pretend I had no clue how to be a doctor and leave the alien physiology issue to someone else,"Her eyes looked on searchingly toward the vastness of space. A asteroid flew over the Jupiter 2 barely even touching it going on its merry way. "I wish I could pretend that I was incompetent to take care of people while there was someone to take over for me."
"Would you be happy if you forgot everything about being a doctor?" Don asked.
"Actually," Judy said, as she sat down into the chair. "Yes."
"I get that too," Don said. "I get scared that I might make a mistake and lead my crew into a death trap or just myself into a pickle that I can't get out of," Judy raised her eyebrows. "I get myself out of that by just going out and piloting in my mind. Doing what I love and putting away those thoughts. In your case, being a doctor won't help you. Maybe singing can help you."
Don pressed on several buttons then handed her the headset.
"Be my guest," Don said. "You are on all frequencies."
Judy placed the elongated black fluff along her mouth.
"What if I accidentally bring attention here?" Judy asked.
"That's exactly what we want," Don said. "You can be out here all you want and if it helps you feel better, I am willing to hand over night duty to you."
"I'll take that," Judy said, placing a hand on his shoulder then gently squeezed it.
"And now you're live," Don said, flipping a switch.
And she sang a hopeful, beautiful song that echoed through the ship.