A quiet hum radiated through the entire room, my constant companion these days. Without that faint hum however, the gates of hell and the doors of Armageddon would rip free and drown us all. Again. A lone light lit the dark room, a holographic clock beside me. Dim as it was, it was still bright enough to cause more than a few sleepless nights. At first, anyway. It bleated out its pitiful alarm, another poor attempt to drag me out of bed. Why oh why had the alarm been locked from me? And why was it secured for a 7:30am start? A growl rumbled in my chest, my arm swatted at it, making pathetic whimpering sounds as my hand passed through air, failing to make contact with anything solid.
All right! Fine! I'm up!
The duvet hurled off me, opening my skin to the chill of the room. Shuddering, my body crawled to the bottom of the bed, grumbling as my arms stretched the distance between me and the desk to silence the alarm on the in-built computer. My balance failed me and my face crashed into the void between desk and bed. A pathetic whimper sang in the air, although morning sleepiness weakened the sound. Whoever programmed that alarm was fired. Or could help themselves to a one way trip out the airlock, either choice were fitting punishments at this point. My hand scrubbed my face, dragging myself to my feet so the hum could vibrate the air around me without the comfort of a rough carpet on my face. My lungs dragged a breath in, an attempt to rouse me. I was not a morning bird, not by any extent of the words. My gaze glanced to the bed over my shoulder, the warm, inviting blue duvet of the double bed drawing me in... no, there was no way you'd see me going anywhere near that slab of furniture. The last time that happened, someone was kind enough to rouse me with a bucket of cold water. My hands massaged my neck as I trekked down three steps to the lower half of my room, quarters, whatever they called it.
It had been a month since the RSS Starquake had left Sur'Kesh with me, Endellion Shaik, as its new captain. Why the salarians had chosen a web feed code for the ship class, I'll never know. Oh, that's right, a snort resounded, 'Rotary Star Ship'. That wonderful prototype engine configuration that had become the bane of my life. Reports on the status of said rotary system awaiting me downstairs, one reason my mind tried to keep me in bed. As each day passed, it broke down a little more. How it was still rotating was beyond me. But my mind was getting side-tracked. It was morning, to wake up easier in the mornings, there was a 'routine' to stick to.
"Marshal," I summoned, voice drowsy. The royal purple drone whizzed into view, bounding before me with its dizzying 3-rotating outer plates. The damn thing was too perky in the morning for me. My hand rubbed an eye. "What time is it?" The combat drone, my new nanny, beeped as a digital dial formed before it. 8:12AM. Huh, new record, well, taking the engine failure morning out of the equation. Never again, if a repeat of that day happened then my God would get a damn ranting when we met. To rocket out of bed in 4 in the morning due to an explosion rocking the entire ship... That had been a bad, bad day. The alarms and flashing red emergency lights still haunted my dreams, no thanks to Nyryntha. "Thanks Mar," I said, patting the drone while my feet dragging me into the bathroom for a well needed shower.
And the water was cold again today. Brilliant. If the brainiac who thought powering the vast majority of the hot-water system with only one of the engines – in this case, the failed engine – ever showed their face, I would fillet them like a fish. The cold water woke me up, if nothing else, although the sourness of my mood did not improve. And then my hair misbehaved. Under normal circumstances, the flamed copper mass stayed straight. Until an alarm clock disturbed it, then it curled like angry coronal loops. To my horror, this occurred on ships more often than on a planet. A lack of moisture seemed to be the cause. So that required more time in the freezing water to sort that out. I was not letting anyone see me with curled hair. Merida from Brave may make it look fabulous, bloody animated Scot, but it was about as attractive on me as a barrel on a fat man.
Ah, but this was me fussing now, distracting myself with minor issues when worse things awaited me down below. I frowned, remembering the pile of work ahead of me. Illium was only a few days away. We could refuel, the engineers could look at the engines and rotary system and maybe we could have hot water! But then there were the worries, some strange sounds radiated through the ship the past few days. All right, alright. No more hiding. The warm towel relieved my frozen skin, relief flooding me that the towel heater still worked, especially when everything else was breaking down. Marshal delivered fresh clothes, a welcome surprise. It meant the fear of stumbling out into my room in a towel with someone there never happened. Marshal had become my all-purpose, badass nanny.
So with my hair tamed and fresh clothes on, it was time to face the music. My uniform comprised a bog-standard military casuals, dyed to add uniqueness to the garments. Short sleeved with charcoal black base and dark purple stripes fanning up the sides of my stomach to wrap around the underside of my arms. I had thin shoulder pads with four stripes and 3 stars, marking my rank. The trousers were plain black with dark purple stripes running down the outside. My hands patted down the pockets, knowing full well stuff will fill them sooner or later. Also these military boots could go die in a fire, although even that wouldn't destroy them.
My peaceful moon continued once out of my quarters. A few stairs separated me from the rest of the officers' cabins. My quarters were the highest in the ship, so there were plenty of windows. Whether that was safe or not though... a sigh dragged out as I strode down the navy hall, nasty white beams curling over my head. They would have been better if they were blue or a darker grey. Hell, even add lights to them and make them blue. My head shook my finger hit a button, striding into the elevator. Again, whoever designed this ship knew how to grind my gears, this time with a slow elevator. This thing took forever!
My destination was one floor down. The crew deck, Deck 5, held the sleeping quarters, bathrooms, kitchen, mess hall and Med bay. Preference wanted it on the third or fourth, it saved an elevator ride for the wounded. We had to bear with the kinks since this ship wasn't commission by me. It wouldn't have these weird kinks in them if it was. The mess hall design felt homier than the Command Quarters, so my next goal was to roll this out the general design throughout the ship. Thin, shaped fake-wood panelling brought a little bit of home aboard a 'military' vessel, if you called us military. Pale orange toned lights warmed the room, helping it feel cosier. It reminded me more of a contemporary home than a ship. It took my mind away from the fact this was a military mission. A long bar held the cookers, fridges and everything else, hogged the port side, the medical bay on the starboard. A bundle of 8-seater tables filled the space between, more chairs decked the outside rim of the counter tops.
My legs made a beeline for the coffee machine. A hot brew after a cold shower would wake me up this early in the morning and put me in a better mood. Unlike the engines, the coffee machine was good and of good quality. The giggling schoolgirl in me scooped the boiling mug before scurrying to a table, reclining in the peace and silence. My datapad pulled free from my pocket, getting my daily scope on the galactic news. Half-an-hour of utter peace, not a soul around me. And the coffee in my system had improved my mood. Now all there was to do now was-
"30 minutes gone! Go! Go! Go!" A distorted female voice cried.
My body petrified in place as a mass of people poured out of the woodwork. A deafening array of sound from 20 people disorientated me, all holding datapads. Turians, salarians, the odd drell and krogan surrounded me. A few words crept from the mess of sounds; 'Report for', 'Good Morning', 'Maintenance', 'Captain', 'Problems with'. My eyes blinked, a slow movement, keeping my gaze straight ahead of me as my datapad filled with dozens of reports. Several people made salutes before they vanished for another to press in close.
Then it was silent, the people disappearing once more into the ship. My eyelids twitched for the first time in 20 seconds. The coffee scalded my tongue on purpose, the long draught a requirement to deal with this shit. Well. that was something my mind never seemed to remember. With utmost care, so not to disturb any fury or frustration boiling up, my eyes browsed the reports they crew gifted me. Crew resource report; we needed more levo-amino food soon. Maintenance reports, travel reports, lab reports, engineering reports. And that was before I touched on the reports relating to crew members. My head cleared after about 15 minutes. The coffee settled my sour emotions down.
"Raisha," I called, eyes fixated to the datapad. The krogan always hovered nearby, her heavy footfalls and deep female chuckle warned me of her approach. My eyes drifted up as the pale skin-toned, honey-crested female krogan stood beside me, sky blue eyes dancing. Her pale peach skin tightened as her mouth flicked upwards.
"Yes, captain?" she answered, tone ripe with amusement.
"Ha, ha," I said with a sarcastic grumble, sighing as my attention returned to the reports. "I don't see Lanster's reports here,"
"He is preparing for a Mass relay jump, he requested time to complete the manoeuvre before giving you his report, Endellion," Raisha said.
"No worries, just wondering," I said, draining the last of the coffee. My body shook itself out, removing the last signs of frustration out of my shoulders. The captain crept free. "Any sign of Mat'al these days?"
"Still locked in the labs, trying to calibrate these machines of his," Raisha answered.
"He'll be glad when the extra scientists come aboard," I said, pushing myself to my feet. "Indira," I summoned as my eyes caught sight of something blue near the woman's bathroom. The blue-toned female drell poked her head around the elevator column, biotic blue eyes alight with mischief.
"Yes, Dellion?" she asked, skipping over to me.
"We need to have a chat about the uh... 'report delivering'," I scowled, flexed my fingers beside my head. The drell sulked.
"We can't give you reports until you've got your coffee, we can't give you any reports until said coffee wakes you up, we aren't allowed to send you reports until your hair is presentable-" Indira listed.
"I did not make that rule, Indira," I balked.
"I recall that you did, Endellion," Raisha grinned. "After the engine failed. I believe it came around when Valérien failed to cease his laughter until you put your Carnifex to his head," My cheeks reddened, trying to smother the embarrassment. That was why I was so fussy with my hair. If there was one thing that ground my nerves, it was giving Val any more ammunition against me.
"So when can we give you our reports when we can't give you them before 8:30 and you need to be awake for at least 30 minutes?" Indira sulked. My... I... did made a lot of rules for the morning, didn't I?
"Just send one person with all of the reports, say 'Good morning, Endellion-"
"Captain," Raisha and Indira both corrected. My glare released laughter from the two women, worsening the red stain in my cheeks.
"Fine, 'Captain'," I snorted. "'Here are the reports. Have a nice morning'. Not that hard,"
"And who, the poor soul, will be the 'sacrificial lamb' as you humans call it," Raisha asked, amused. My eyes closed, trying everything to cool the heat escaping from my face. Indira giggled, dancing on the spot while my fingers squeezed each other. My temper had become infamous over the past month... My throat cleared, trying to compose myself to answer. Indira, my Commander in charge of Intel and Raisha, my XO, both waited with amused expressions.
"I volunteer as tribute," a flanged, male voice sounded, laughing. It was automatic. My body swung around, a finger already pointing at the copper coloured turian. His emerald eyes glittered, the teal markings on his face catching the light. His wide grin irked me. "Good morning, sleeping beauty,"
"I am not in the mood for your shit, Valérien Autillin," I warned.
"You never are," he winked. Fire snorted out my nose. "But here I was, about to give you a wonderful report on our arms predicament," he sang.
"And I don't need reminded about that!" I groaned. "Yes, I know we barely have enough functional guns for everyone. Yes, I am aware we don't have enough spare parts to fix said broken guns. And I'm also aware of the new bloody regulation requiring all guns now require heat sink clips, to which we too few of! I know!" A glare heated as turian took the battering, smirking.
"All true, apart from one fact," he began. My expression straightened, waiting. "We no longer have enough functional guns for one per crew member," My eye twitched, muscles rigid. "Also, Engine 2 is making strange sounds," My arm shook. The want to punch a salarian, the salarian who assigned the resources for this shit! My lungs dragged a slow breath in to calm my rage.
"Is it in the reports?" I asked, tone strained. Val snorted.
"I hope so, otherwise we might end up being two engines down," Val sighed. A shudder ran down my spine. "Yeah. We don't want that,"
"If we lose another engine, we don't travel at FTL. I will not push my luck with the other four engines holding out long on their own with their track record," I said, covering my eyes with the heel of my hands. "Make sure Lanster and the engineers know, please," This was why I hated waking up in the morning.
"Sure, I'll go up and speak with Lanster. I think we are about a day and half off from arriving on Illium. We will need fuel, parts... well, all that is in the reports," Val said with a shrug.
"We don't have an awful lot of money as it is, Val," I sighed. "I can't even afford to pay you people!" My arms flopped by my sides. Money had not been one the considerations we took when we carried out this crazy plan.
"Are the STG is still declining to fund us?" Raisha asked. My snort would have burned anyone else.
"Of course. They want results before they pay a bloody credit," I said, a growl rumbling in my chest. "They said they'll pay us when we pick up the rest of the scientists on Illium," My eyes glanced down to the datapad in my hand, at the numerous reports awaiting my attention. "I'm heading down to the labs. Val just…do what you can with those bloody guns," Val saluted, eyes lighting up. He earned a show of snarled teeth. He knew how much people saluting me pissed me off.
"Aye, aye, captain," he answered before flicking the saluting fingers forward, striding off towards the engineering ducts. Huh, so that's how everyone was getting around... with the elevator, no one had the right to complain about it. Although complaints from the engineering team circulated around the number of people stepping over them while they worked. There had to be a way to speed the bloody elevator up. Or add stairs. Stairs were good.
"Alright, dismissed ladies," I said with a sigh. It sounded so official, so much like the captain position forced upon me, but it was the only way to be rid of them. Raisha and Indira both saluted, Indira giggled before bounding away, my expression contorting to a scowl. "And we'll talk about the report delivery times later!" My voice echoed after her. Raisha smiled before abandoning my side.
The long elevator gave me time to read another report until it coughed me out on the 3th floor. Exiting the elevator, my attention remained focused on the datapad than the bustle of the CIC. Mass Relay jumps were always hectic when our engines were concerned. Shayan bent over a console on the inner ring of the multiple computers surrounding the galaxy map. It wouldn't appear until my ass parked itself in that damn chair. Lanster's voice rang over the intercom. Looks like we were having technical difficulties. Again.
"Shayan," I called. The twitchy quarian bounced in surprise, gawking in my direction. I stopped beside him, slipping my datapad back in my thigh pocket. "Problems?"
"Ah, Captain, good morning," he saluted. My usual scowl formed, but he could get away with it, he had been saluting and calling me captain long before I even had this ship. "Well... you could say that," he glanced to the console.
"Did you expect any less?" Lanster's flanged voice broke over the intercom. My sigh drained the will from me.
"What's happened this time?" I groaned.
"We are losing pressure in the two fuel lines. We're in the process of trying to determine where the problem is," Shayan explained. A hand ran down my face, trying to ease the headache ready to bounce on me.
"Is there any part of this fucking ship that isn't falling apart?" I screamed, hurling myself into the high-backed leather chair in the middle. The galaxy dome flared to life. My eyes fixed on the blinking locations of the mass relays, the dozens of sparkles of stars. The Starquake's location was a flashing red dot. We were on top of a mass relay, and problems arose just as we arrived. Pushing myself to my feet, the map vanished. More than a few eyes were on me, watching my mood.
"Mar," I called. My drone flew to my side, bouncing. "Help the engineering team if you can. We need to make this relay jump," Mar chimed, hovering over to Shayan, awaiting orders. Shayan gave me a faint smile. That mask hid everything just about. "Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, we must make this jump. Also, Lanster, I need that report once we complete the jump,"
"Aye, aye, captain," Lanster called. "Sershin can give you it if you are desperate,"
"Na, you're good. I think you need your co-pilot as it is without me bothering you," I answered, waving a hand.
"Indeed, although if we had more flight computers it would help," A distorted male voice chuckled. A small smile spread. The older drell, Indira's mentor, was just the calm needed for the hot-rocket that was my pilot.
"Sorry, can't help you there," I answered. "All right Mar, follow their orders, ok big guy?" the drone bounced, desperate for its order.
"Thanks captain. Marshal, get down to the engineering deck and trace the fuel lines for engines 1 through 4 and engine 6," Lanster called over the intercom. Mar bleeped before whizzing past me, disappearing down a small vent. My hand patted Shayan on the shoulder, turning to the doors on either side of the elevator. A small room awaited me, the decontamination room. The wait in the tiny container stretched on as the decontamination begun. The second door opened after a minute.
Noise assaulted me like a brick wall. Yells, calls, swearing, orders, clanging. Noises that should have eased a week ago, but now looked to take another month. The war room had transformed into a temporary storage room. Glass sided walls gave me a clear view of the carnage awaiting me on the other side of the room. The silver walls were alight with coloured screens and holographic screens, the floor spare bits of metal, bolts and general packaging littered the floor as the teams struggled to pull everything together. A heard a few 'captain' greetings as my legs struggled to make any headway towards the VI core in the bottom corner. The room was a mass of salarians, all swearing or grumbling about things not fitting or otherwise being a pain in the ass.
"Saldan," I called. The murky red salarian glanced up from his work. Strain marks lined his dark brown eyes. "Have you seen Mat'al at all?"
"Check the test rooms. Maybe he's there," the fast talking salarian answered. "Uh, captain," he added.
"Relax, Saldan. You guys have been working your asses off. I think I can be a little lenient about political correctness," His shoulders sagged.
"Thanks, Dell. If I see Mat'al before you, I'll let him know you're looking for him," he offered a lopsided grin. My face lit up. Finally, someone who didn't call me 'captain' all the bloody time!
"Great, thanks guys. Keep up the good work," I said, giving them a salute as most raised a hand to their foreheads, even if they crouched over something. My battle to cross the room to the three smaller rooms across the way began. Either could hold Mat'al. A krogan strode across my path carrying a crate. It warmed my heart. Most people had little to do, so the majority of the teams, aside from the engineers, were in here. Co-operation was always pleasant to see. But my attention was soon dragged when a certain voice sounded over the din.
"We need those compressors operational if we have any hope of getting the spectrometers online. And for Wheel's sake, be careful with that!" Mat'al's voice cracked. My body battered its way as the swell of people ebbed and flowed away from him, trying to reach to the white faced, dark skinned salarian. He was busy dishing out orders when the crowd shoved me beside him. "Get the memory banks over the VI core, we need that space clear for the electromagnetic testing equipment! You, I need the data banks A and F in their housing-" He paused, stared at me as he recognised who he was giving the order to. My eyebrow rose. He sighed. "This is not a good time, Dell,"
"Tough shit, it never is. I need to talk to you," I said, gathering myself. Mat'al had shooed me away several times already, however, today was different.
"Do you have 245 systems to install onto malfunctioning systems?" Mat'al began, starting another spiel of his multiple problems. My eyebrows snapped down, mood souring with each word. "Do you have four tons of sensitive equipment to set up before the intel teams can do anything? Do you-"
"What I have, Mat'al Delern," I snapped over the noise, the room quietened for a time. "Is a ship falling apart, a second engine on the brink of failure, a fuel pressure issue that may prevent us from completing a relay jump, diminishing food supplies, four major power supply problems, an unstable drive core due to poor bearings, not enough functional guns for the entire crew and 38 people who will not be paid because the STG refuses to pay up! Don't you dare tell me that your issues are more important than mine!" I thundered.
Mat'al fell quiet for a time, studying me as my glare tried to burn through his icy exterior. Nothing startled him, especially me, not by a long shot. This salarian had trained me to be competent in combat but had failed to alter my non-combat character. He was still trying to adjust to my newer, more confident self that was cracking out of its shell. Raisha and Indira were to thank for that. Mat'al released a sigh, rubbing the eyes with his long fingers. Tension eased out from my shoulders. Yelling at this damned salarian was the only way to make him listen for 10 minutes. Due to the work here, he didn't know of half the problems with the Starquake. The lab and intel rooms were too crucial to fail.
"Apologies, Dell," he rubbed his eyes. "I suppose it is easy to become distracted with your own issues," A smile spread, trying to comfort the salarian. As the captain, people looked to me for strength. whether that strength existed would be tested over the coming weeks.
"I know. Listen, I need to meet with all the commanding officers at 2pm today regarding Illium. You are the one who has been arranging these new scientists coming on board, we need you to tell us what is happening with that," I said.
"Dell, I can't leave... " Mat'al began before staring at my eyes, watching them harden. He moaned. "Aye, aye," he responded, grumbling.
"Good. My quarters, 2pm. Don't, be, late," I pressed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a relay jump to supervise. Let's hope engine 2 doesn't fail, otherwise we can kiss installing your systems goodbye," Mat'al's eye twitched, understanding. "Delern," I saluted. Mat'al straightened himself.
"Shaik," he responded. Mat'al did not salute me. Ever. Or call me captain. He had never parted the reason but to have someone treat me like a normal person was refreshing. I nodded, a satisfied smile on my face as my body turned to leave the room.
And being the strong, confident and graceful captain of the Starquake, my feet got caught in some plastic packing tape. My squeal sounded over the din as my face smashed into the floor.
The Fact Sheet, Timeline, Saboteur Sheet and Galaxy Map have been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.