Week 8 Summary (July 29 - August 4, 2002)

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"Chief Jones," McGregor asked. "I know she's considered exceptionally talented by many ship crews in the JAF. She could probably land a position on a more prestigious ship than the Fierce if she wanted to. She's keeps engineering running smoothly and is never afraid to get dirty -- she seems to relish challenges. I've seen several of her reports to Delacroix (they seem sometimes to get accidentally sent my way, I'm really not sure how or why, ahem) and they're thorough and well-written. You don't suspect her of something, do you, Sir?"

"Not really," the General responded, "but I don't like coincidences -- and it's a big one that this Jones woman has a sister in one of these groups. There aren't more than a half-dozen of these organizations across the solar system, and most of them have members that number in the several dozen range, if that. Keep close tabs on her."

"Yes, Sir," McGregor replied. "I'll keep an eye on her."

The general hesitated for a second. "One more thing, Lieutenant. I have yet to speak with Captain Delacroix about this... but I want you on that sled. With the boarding party."

McGregor's eyebrow shot up. "Sir? Certainly I'll go, but may I ask why? If it's a high-combat situation, I'll be a liability to the marines."

"Don't sell yourself short, Lieutenant," Collinsworth replied. "I am aware that a combat zone isn't exactly your forte, but I would think a JAFI officer would be able to handle herself well enough. You don't need to be on the front lines -- I just want you on that sled, in the control room right after the marines seize it. As you might imagine, this ONE group might have some very sensitive information in the databanks. The navigation computer, especially, I'm thinking we need to check out. I don't want any unauthorized personnel anywhere near that data. Clear?"

"Crystal clear, Sir," McGregor replied. "As far as combat is concerned, I'm just trying to imagine the marines' objections when they learn I'll be going over with them and now when they learn I'll want an armed guard with me when I'm working over the control room. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it, however."

"Also, once we get a line on where this thing is headed, if in fact it's going out-of-system, that's need-to-know information."

"Affirmative, Sir. We may, however, be at risk of a few leaks already. Private Cyan, the very capable pilot I asked Captain Delacroix to sic on the trajectory, is a very proud woman, Sir. She's the kind that likes to brag about her accomplishments, and she strikes me as someone who knows little of discretion. I may have to have a nice, long chat with her in a few minutes." I hope I don't have to liquidate her, she thought to herself.

One of the general's eyebrows lifted. "Yes. Talk to Cyan and impress upon her the gravity of the situation. Loose lips and all that."

"One other thing, Sir: I'd like a full background check run up on Private Maribelle Young. When push comes to shove, she cuts corners. That admirable in some cases, but not when it comes to classified information. I'd also like one on Private Babette Moore, Private Vincent Panoz, Private Kimo Tanaka, and Corporal Avi Elsworth." She double-checked her notes. "That's a good chunk of the flight deck. Let's do the rest, too, so any snooping reveals only a blanket background check on the flight deck rather than those individuals in particular. Corporal Sandeep Balaraj, Sergeant Lily Gatsby, Master Sergeant Lonald Dumphy, and Lieutenant David Tweet. Someone in that group is snooping where he or she doesn't belong. At the moment, it feels like a case of curiosity rather than espionage, but I obviously want to make sure."

Collinsworth nodded. "Right, we'll run the checks. You might not see results for some time, however, as we've got all available resources working the sled. Anything else, Lieutenant?"

"No, Sir," she replied.

"Good luck, then. We're counting on you," the General finished a few seconds before cutting the transmission.

Turning over in her bunk, Babette Moore sighed and looked at the low ceiling of her cabin. She'd been unable to sleep. Seeing Vice Valkurie had affected her. She'd hoped -- prayed -- that she'd left all trappings of her past behind her. Vice was one of the few bright spots of her days in the belt, but seeing him still made her mind wander back to darker times. Though it was a far cry from the misery she'd escaped from, life in the Jovian Confederation hadn't been easy.

Moore's biggest problem was her lack of exposure to -- well, to much of anything. Men, certainly, she knew how to handle in a sexual sense, but that was the one part of herself she was most determined to bury. The sights and sounds of the Confederation cities-within-cylinders had astounded the woman and left her awestruck. There were so many people, doing so many different things -- all of the time. The intense pace of the Jovian lifestyle nearly overwhelmed the woman during her first few months at Mount Vanguard, but when she'd become a citizen and joined the JAF, things began to fall into place. She'd found a new home aboard the Fierce. One much smaller and cozier than the big colonies she'd been on; one much more to her liking.

Closing her eyes, she tried again to drift off.

"Um... Lieutenant Valkurie -- are you awake?"

Valkurie cracked an eye. He'd been dozing, but woke when a woman's voice reverberated through the liquid-filled tank he was still in. "Mmm?" he managed.

Corporal Durst rocked up onto her toes and peered more closely into the regeneration tank. "Are you awake?" she asked again, barely resisting the urge to tap on the glass.

"Yeah... I was... just..." Vice rubbed his eyes. He was becoming more accustomed to the odd sensation of the healing gel on his eyes, but it still stung a little. "Y'know... gel... and waiting... but it's okay. I was just resting my eyes. This stuff stings a bit."

"It's Dee Dee. I just wanted to know if you wanted some company. I didn't mean to wake you up, though. You want me to leave you alone?"

"No... don't go. You can wake me up anytime." he replied, a little more awake now. "I would have gone over to your cot to chat but I couldn't figure out how to move this thing, other than tipping it over and splashing in your direction. So how are you doing? You had quite the close shave out there."

"Oh, I'm okay," Durst answered. "I'm stiff and sore from being in the cockpit so long, but I think it's a little much for Dr. Zelios to keep me under observation for so long." Rubbing the back of her stiff neck with her hand, she added, "Mostly it's my pride that took a beating. That Ryu had me for lunch. Jumped right on my tail, accelerated all the way through a pursuit turn and waxed me good when I broke and went evasive."

"I don't know about that." Vice said. "You did everything as you were trained. It just so happened that our information on the Ryu were off. They caught all of us unprepared. They got past Fenris and me, and even past Cosby. You didn't go down in the first 15 seconds of combat so I wouldn't say that it had you for lunch. You want to talk about pride being bruised, my pride is taking a beating just floating in here. I feel like I'm on display. Not much is being left to the imagination, if you get my meaning."

"Don't worry -- that goop you're in is pretty thick. You can't see a thing from out here," the young pilot lied with a smile. "I do have serious a question for you, though," Dee Dee said more softly. "What's with the bad blood between you and Gunther? You both seem like nice guys to me... I'd have thought you'd be friends if you went to the academy together. Is it just a bad case of exo vs. fighter pilot?"

Vice smirked. "I was wondering when you were going to ask. Everyone seems to be really curious about it. We were the best of friends, Everett and I. We trained, drank and even got into fights together. As a flight team we were quite the terror in the training sims. Exo versus fighter pilot rivalries aside, things just started to fall apart between us during our final year. Personality quirks became annoyances. We always had a bit of a rivalry, friendly at first but it became more serious as we trained for exo and lancer."

The Exo pilots demeanor became very serious as he glanced at his ring finger. "And then he stole my fi..." he started to say but stopped himself. Vice balled his fist and turned away from Dee Dee. She could see his body tense up as Vice tried to hide a surge of emotions. It had to have been the muscle relaxants. Otherwise Vice was sure that he would never have blurted out what he almost did. "There is a line Dee Dee that should never have been crossed, yet it was." he said succinctly.

Durst said nothing, but noted the emotion in the man's strangely amplified voice.

Vice closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to relax. It was not going to do any good letting the past come back with a vengeance as it did just now. He turned back to Dee Dee. "Sorry. I have not fully come to terms...with it...yet. Some things are hard to forget... or forgive. Kind of like a wound that never seems to heal. Whatever is said between Everett and myself, make up your own mind. Poisoned words slip easily between us."

"I didn't mean to pry, or dredge up bad memories," Dee Dee offered, too late.

"So what's your story?" he asked trying to change the subject.

Durst was equally glad to change topics. "Me? Oh, you know. I'm a military brat. Mom and Dad were both in the JAF, and so are my three brothers. It's kind of a family thing. I've always loved piloting, and it seemed natural for me to focus on that. I'm a bit short for a frame, so I went through interceptor training -- for all the good it did me out there. The Ryus did catch us off guard, but I still didn't fly like I'm capable of flying. I want another crack at those bastards. Anyway, the Fierce is my second posting. I had six months in a squadron based at the Vanguard cylinder, then transferred onto the Fierce. I just recently made Corporal. I'm sweet, single, I like going fast," she said with a cocked eyebrow, "and I'm a delight to be around. What else do you need to know?" she beamed.

Vice had to chuckle, or at least he attempted to. "A Delight to be around, eh? I can't argue with that. I'd like to know how someone with your qualifications can somehow manage to remain single. I'm just teasing. What is it that the Delightful Corporal Durst likes to do for fun?"

Durst shrugged. "Lots of things, when I'm given the opportunity. Ion biking is pretty cool, and so are ultralights. I like to be active, and that's one reason I don't like be stationed aboard a carrier. There's not much to do during downtimes. I like trideos and all, but there's nothing like the open air of a big colony to let you spread your wings when you're off duty."

Vice thought for a moment. "I don't think that I have ever flown an ultralight. Most of the stations that I have been on did not have a lot of open space. I did rent an Ion bike once and that was fun. I grew up on small ships so I have always been able to find things to do with very little space. Of course being in a completely different medium, like healing goo, is something new. I can't even bring my deck of cards in here."

Another voice sounded in the room, a woman's from the sound of it, but Valkurie couldn't make out any words. Dee Dee frowned, however, and turned around. "I am not " she fired back. "I'm just stuck in here for another couple of hours and I thought I'd spend some time trying to get to know Lieutenant Valkurie."

Vice stared quizzically at Dee Dee's back, trying to hear what was going on.

More indecipherable words were followed by Durst turning back towards the tank, red-faced. "No, Lieutenant Gilding, I'm not. Don't mix Yvette and I up." Lowering her voice so only Vice could hear her, she added, "Sometimes Alora's a real bitch. Just ignore her when she's like that."

"Alora Gilding." Vice thought back to the week that he had been onboard the Fierce. "I haven't talked with her much but she did seem to have quite a sharp tongue. What was she saying? And red is your color by the way."

Durst's nose wrinkled as she grinned, and she spoke quietly. "Gee, thanks -- like I need red skin to go with my red hair. Lieutenant Gilding was just saying that our flirting was making her sick, and that if we didn't keep it down she was going to become violently ill." She was still a little pink as she added, "Just ignore her. She hates to see other people enjoying themselves, even in simple conversation."

"Well if she was going to become violently ill then Medbay is the place to do it." Vice replied jokingly. "This human contact is important to my recovery. Let's see her marinate in goo for a while and see how flirtatious she ends up. But maybe we are being a little loud. It is hard to tell in all this goo. The acoustics are really weird."

"And how is our star patient today?" Dr. Gilmour asked directly, coming up behind Durst with an electronic tablet under one arm. Adjusting the stylish eyeglasses that sat perched on her attractive face, she checked a screen on the tank that displayed Vice's vitals before adding, "Your heroic walk to the medical bay will probably cost you several hours in the regen tank, Lieutenant, and perhaps a day or two of flying time."

"I'm bored to tears Doctor, but I am feeling a lot better." he replied. "I really don't mind the extra healing time, if it means that I put on a good show. The morale of the crew is a worth a few extra hours of soaking in healing goo I figure."

Gilmour simply raised her eyebrows. "Is that why you did that?"

Dee Dee gave Vice a thumbs up. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "We pilots are the pride of the ship, and have to put on the best face we can at all times."

Gilding said something else from her bed that Valkurie couldn't hear, but it made Gilmour chuckle and Durst scowl.

"I'm glad to say the burns weren't that bad," the young doctor replied. "And I'm sorry about the boredom, Lieutenant. I'll see about at least getting a few audio feeds in there. News, music, that sort of thing."

"Thanks Doc." the Exo-pilot said, giving the doctor a thumbs up. "Any chance you could flavor this goo? It tastes pretty awful."

Gilmour smiled wryly. "I'll see what I can do, pilot, but I can't make any promises. I don't know that we have that much peppermint artificial flavoring aboard." Satisfied that Valkurie's recovery was on-schedule, she moved off towards Alora Gilding's bed. "Now then, Lieutenant Gilding, how are you holding up?" she said, her voice fading off as she moved away.

"So..." Dee Dee said when she and Vice were alone again, "if you'll allow me to pry, what's the scoop with you and Babette? You're 'old friends' you say..." Durst couldn't suppress a smile as she added, "Like... really close old friends? You're going to be the envy of every guy on the ship -- they're virtually all after her."

Vice looked at Dee Dee quizzically. "Envy of every guy on the ship? Are you serious?" He closed his eyes and smiled. "Heh heh. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Babette is extremely attractive."

Durst nodded, saying, "Yeah, but it's even kind of more than that. You must have noticed it. It's like she has this... hold over guys. So what's the deal?"

Unfortunately the story is not mine to tell. We are friends from way back. I haven't seen her for 7 years, and it turns out that we'll be serving together on the same ship. Is that coincidence or what? As for how close we are... well... not in the way that you are thinking. Sorry to disappoint you. The rumors may be juicier than the truth."

"Ah," Durst responded, seeing that she wasn't going to pry any more out of Valkurie on the subject.

How about you and Everett? What has it been like serving with him?"

"Gunther?" Dee Dee responded with wide eyes. "Oh, no, no. We're not an item or anything -- if that's what you mean. He's kind of like a big brother to me. I was still pretty green when I came aboard the Fierce, and he sort of took me under his wing. It's mostly because of him that I made corporal recently. He's a fantastic pilot, and a good teacher." The young woman shrugged. "His personal life is a bit of a shambles, but I think he'll eventually figure things out."

"I think I've got it," Private Cyan declared.

A hologram of the nearest star systems to Sol hung suspended in the air above Cyan's console, and when Officer Zieg and Corporal Orr looked over, Cyan smiled and highlighted one system.

"Based on the info you guys just fed me an hour ago, I think I've identified the sled's destination. It depends a lot on how much fuel they have aboard and whether or not they can keep up the kind of thrust they've been exhibited the past few hours, but I'm pretty sure there's only one place they could be going."

Zieg raised her eyebrows. "Don't keep us in suspense, private. Where?"

"Epsilon Eridani," Cyan returned.

"That's only about ten and a half light years out, right?" Orr asked.

Cyan nodded. "Yup. So the sled could potentially get there pretty quickly if they could speed it up to a significant fraction of the speed of light."

Zieg examined the hologram. "So we've determined that we think the sled has what it takes to escape the Sol system -- especially if its using booster rockets that can drop off to reduce mass -- and that it's likely headed for a star system about 10 light years away." Clapping her hands on her thighs, the senior navigator added, "Good work, you two. Why don't you grab some lunch while I report in to the captain?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cyan said, before stopping to reconsider. "Ma'am, if you need me to be available while you brief the Captain, I can wait a little while."

"No need, Private Cyan," Officer Zieg commented. "I'll handle it. You go grab something to eat. I know you both just came off a long shift."

"Interesting," Sergeant Tucker commented, looking over the profiles of the ONE members that she and Harry had been sent. "Looks like a pretty capable group. Engineers, physicians, lawyers, ex-military officers, teachers, scientists -- quite a mix of people."

Mandrake nodded, looking at his own datapad. "Fifty seven known members," he said. "That fits with the Hadrian's report that somewhere between forty and seventy people were recently aboard the Sumiko Tan."

Tucker rubbed her temples. "Which leaves between thirty and sixty, approximately, for us to deal with on that sled. Not that many of them have combat experience, though."

"That's not counting any that got on board the sled as passengers or crew." commented Harry. "I wouldn't put too much stock in the known membership being the limit of their resources."

"Good point," Tucker conceded.

At the next table over, McGregor downed the last of her coffee and pulled another refill from the mess hall pot. Returning, she stopped by the two marines. "Sergeants Tucker, Mandrake," she said. "Mind if I join you? I'm curious to hear your take on these people."

"Certainly, Lieutenant." said Harry, indicating an empty seat. "We were just discussing what sort of reception they'd have waiting for us on the sled."

"Ah," said McGregor, taking the seat. "From an admittedly very detached point of view, I'm sure it will be a fascinating one. These people appear for the most part not to be soldiers after all. Fascinating." She shook her head, wondering if the marines had heard yet she'd be right there behind them. Probably not.

Harry frowned. "Well, I guess if by 'fascinating' you mean 'likely to get us killed', sure. It's obvious they've kept what military capability they have well hidden up to now. They did very nearly destroy this ship after all."

"Mm." McGregor's reply was non-committal. "Unless the majority of their capability was spent trying to get rid of us. You're right, of course, the boarding action will be quite hazardous. Any ideas on how you'll approach it?"

"Depends on the situation when we catch up with the sled, but our basic strategy is to a quick strike to capture the control center." said Harry, tracing a quick diagram on the tabletop in front of him. "Once that's secured we can move on to the other sections as necessary. Simple in theory, but I'm under no illusions that it'll be that straight forward."

McGregor's ears perked up at the sound of someone discussing something her subconscious told her shouldn't be discussed. Turning her head, she spotted Private Cyan doing exactly that: talking about the sled's trajectory. "Damn it," she muttered. "Excuse me, Sergeants," she said. "Sorry to be rude, but matters of State call." She got up from the conversation with the marines and strolled casually to where the pilots were chatting.

Harry frowned again at the departing Lieutenant. "That woman worries me," he commented to Tucker. "A crate gets moved five meters to the left and she thinks it's a national bloody emergency. It'll be accusing someone of treason for stepping on her toe next."

Tucker's brow also furrowed. "She's a little overzealous, is she? Those JAFI types are wound pretty tight in my experience." Watching as the Intel officer led the navigator and pilot from their table, Tucker smiled slightly. "You think she's going to make them walk the plank?"

Private Arianna Cyan moved into the galley at a brisk pace, spurred on by a combination of hunger and Corporal Orr, who was following her through the corridors of the Fierce.

"I can't believe they're trying to leave the system!" Orr exclaimed quietly.

"We don't really know if that's their plan or not," Arianna responded, moving into the cafeteria line. She didn't turn to face the ship's shift three navigator, just spoke as she went about her business of getting fed, saying, "It's still only a theory."

"But it's what we just spent the last few hours on," Orr responded. "The Captain must be pretty convinced if she put the three of us on it. Can you imagine what it would be like to actually leave the system?"

"Aside from a couple of family trips to nearby stations, I hadn't even been out of the Jovian colonies until coming onboard the Fierce," Arianna admitted. "Leaving the system... it's difficult to imagine."

She stopped in place, suddenly holding up the line, asking herself out loud, "Would the sled have enough supplies onboard to even make the trip? It's one thing to get close to light speed, but then to have enough supplies to not only make the trip, but also have enough to live while you try to settle a planet... Orr, have you ever been on a sled? I know we figured that the sled could make the trip, but could its inhabitants?"

"Keep your voice down!" Orr warned in a fierce whisper. "You know Zieg said this was hush-hush. I have no idea whether they could make it. I've never ridden a sled... I guess the supply thing would depend on how many people were trying to make the trip -- and how many of them were in cold sleep."

"Even if they were all in cold sleep, is there enough space on the sled to hold all of the supplies they'll need to colonize a planet? On top of the fuel and thrusters they'll need to alter the course, I mean," Arianna argued, trying to quiet her voice.

Now having his food, Corporal Orr made his way across the mess to an open table. Once he sat down, he shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea," he answered honestly. "Those sleds are pretty huge, you know. You don't think they're really going out-of-system?"

"Excuse me, Private Cyan..." She took a look at the other person's uniform. "Corporal Orr. I'm Lieutenant McGregor. I wonder if you'd be so kind as to join me in a stroll." She glanced very deliberately at the JAFI logo on her own uniform and flashed her best 'Intel-is-about-to-ream-you' smile at the pair. "You may consider it an order if it will help." She gestured towards the exit.

End Week 8 Summary (July 29 - August 4, 2002)

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ALL SYSTEMS GO is set in Dream Pod 9's Jovian Chronicles universe. Jovian Chronicles, the Jovian Chronicles logo and Silhouette are trademarks of Dream Pod 9, Inc. Exo-armor, Jovian Confederation, CEGA, Silhouette and all other names, logos and specific game terms are (c)1993, 2002; all Jovian Chronicles art and designs are Copyright (c)1994-2002 Dream Pod 9, Inc. No challenge to these copyrights and trademarks is intended.

Except where noted, all original content is copyright 2002 John Guilfoyle, Alistair Gillies, Chris Schaller, Robb Neumann, Dennis Kirkpatrick and Bryan Lee. Page last updated on September 30th, 2002.