Second and last bit of this scene.
"Uh, Captain, Sir?" That's an ensign assigned to communications, young and baby-faced, with brick-red hair falling into his eyes. "Could you debrief us on the current situation, please? Our original orders from the Galaxy Federation were to investigate the vanished planet and assist the researchers, but ever since we picked up that object, it feels like everything's changed. What exactly is that thing, anyway?"
"Who knows?" That isn't exactly a lie; Moriyama himself has no clue. Taxi driver. "I haven't heard a thing from the research team since they picked it up. Could be classified."
"But we were diverted from Ariadne--well, where Ariadne was--to pick it up, right?"
"We received new orders, yes. Apparently it overrode the investigation of the planet's disappearance." Cherenkov stands there and looks conspicuously uncomfortable, but Moriyama continues, easy and soothing. He doesn't like holding orders and reasons back from junior officers if there isn't a good reason not to. "No doubt there will be other fleets there after us, doing what they can."
"I...thank you, Sir, for the clarification."
Moriyama pauses and studies the young man. "I apologize if this is uncomfortable for you, Ensign, but did you have family there?"
He stiffens, as if surprised that he'd been so obvious. "Yes, Sir."
"My sincerest condolences."
"Thank you, Sir."
There's an awkward sort of silence on the bridge for a moment, and then one of the other ensigns pipes up, as if encouraged by the chatter. "Captain, I've heard people say there were casualties during the retrieval process. Of that object, I mean, Sir."
"I can't say whether that's true, Engisn, but frankly, it's none of our business. The research teams have their own orders and are under their own supervision. The only explicit instructions we, as Federation Marines, have received state that should any salvageable objects exist in the vicinity, their retrieval takes top priority."
"Top priority?" That's the same lieutenant who'd commented on the asteroids. "For object retrieval? What can they mean by that, Sir?"
"What they mean," says Cherenkov, "is that those objects have greater priority than our very lives."
She flinches; soft murmurs run through the bridge. "No need to scare them," says the Captain. "Those orders merely reflect the importance of that object to the Federation government. Just stay sharp and be careful, people."
"Oh, that makes sense, Sir." The boy from Ariadne smiles cautiously. "That's why a ship this new and powerful got dispatched, right? And if there's an emergency, we've got that trump card to fall back on."
"Ahh, yes." Moriyama leans back in his chair, turning to one of the men in the back who deal with internal communication. "Speaking of with, what's the latest on that?"
"They're scheduled to turn in the A-7 reports today," he answers promptly.
"A-7. According to their development plan, that's one step away from fully operational, yes?"
"Ys, Sir."
"It's about time, I suppose. Well, please ask Chief Uzuki to come to the bridge once her data's ready. Oh, and ask her to bring all the previous data as well."
"Yes, Sir."
"To your posts, people," Moriyama says, not unkindly. "We've got over seven hours until we're in the clear. Keep an eye out."
There's a rustle of turning chairs and beeping consoles, except for two of the young ensigns in one corner, muttering to each other from adjoining stations.
"What trump card? Is he talking about that battle android?"
Moriyama strokes his mustache and looks ignorant. The way the bridge is designed, he can hear just about everybody, but young officers don't always realize that.
"That's right," says his friend. "Whoa, you mean you didn't know?"
"I just figured it was some crazy rumor. I mean, with Realian technology around these days? Only place I've heard of androids is in old space novels."
"Seriously. But yeah, it's going on right here belowdecks." The boy waves grandiosely. "Though I heard the project's really behind schedule. But you can't blame them. There were casualties during their boot-up test two years ago, and they've been taking it really carefully since..." He's clearly enjoying a chance to hold forth. "Trump card or no, though, it's still an experiment. And I can't imagine one android's going to make that much of a difference, even if it is cool."
"Just Vector guys showing off?"
"Or somebody's outdated hobby." The boy sighs, morose, as if he's hoping that one little outdated android will flatten fleets of Gnosis.
Cherenkov's paced over behind them. "They say ignorance is bliss," he says quietly, less gruff than usual. "Looks like they were right."
The two chattering ensigns snap to their posts, clearly terrified of the Russian menace. "Commander, Sir?"
Cherenkov shrugs, cryptic. "I'm just envious. That's all."
This post is part of Letterblade's Blogathon 2010 madness, to raise money for Heifer Project International. Please go here to pledge your support.
"Uh, Captain, Sir?" That's an ensign assigned to communications, young and baby-faced, with brick-red hair falling into his eyes. "Could you debrief us on the current situation, please? Our original orders from the Galaxy Federation were to investigate the vanished planet and assist the researchers, but ever since we picked up that object, it feels like everything's changed. What exactly is that thing, anyway?"
"Who knows?" That isn't exactly a lie; Moriyama himself has no clue. Taxi driver. "I haven't heard a thing from the research team since they picked it up. Could be classified."
"But we were diverted from Ariadne--well, where Ariadne was--to pick it up, right?"
"We received new orders, yes. Apparently it overrode the investigation of the planet's disappearance." Cherenkov stands there and looks conspicuously uncomfortable, but Moriyama continues, easy and soothing. He doesn't like holding orders and reasons back from junior officers if there isn't a good reason not to. "No doubt there will be other fleets there after us, doing what they can."
"I...thank you, Sir, for the clarification."
Moriyama pauses and studies the young man. "I apologize if this is uncomfortable for you, Ensign, but did you have family there?"
He stiffens, as if surprised that he'd been so obvious. "Yes, Sir."
"My sincerest condolences."
"Thank you, Sir."
There's an awkward sort of silence on the bridge for a moment, and then one of the other ensigns pipes up, as if encouraged by the chatter. "Captain, I've heard people say there were casualties during the retrieval process. Of that object, I mean, Sir."
"I can't say whether that's true, Engisn, but frankly, it's none of our business. The research teams have their own orders and are under their own supervision. The only explicit instructions we, as Federation Marines, have received state that should any salvageable objects exist in the vicinity, their retrieval takes top priority."
"Top priority?" That's the same lieutenant who'd commented on the asteroids. "For object retrieval? What can they mean by that, Sir?"
"What they mean," says Cherenkov, "is that those objects have greater priority than our very lives."
She flinches; soft murmurs run through the bridge. "No need to scare them," says the Captain. "Those orders merely reflect the importance of that object to the Federation government. Just stay sharp and be careful, people."
"Oh, that makes sense, Sir." The boy from Ariadne smiles cautiously. "That's why a ship this new and powerful got dispatched, right? And if there's an emergency, we've got that trump card to fall back on."
"Ahh, yes." Moriyama leans back in his chair, turning to one of the men in the back who deal with internal communication. "Speaking of with, what's the latest on that?"
"They're scheduled to turn in the A-7 reports today," he answers promptly.
"A-7. According to their development plan, that's one step away from fully operational, yes?"
"Ys, Sir."
"It's about time, I suppose. Well, please ask Chief Uzuki to come to the bridge once her data's ready. Oh, and ask her to bring all the previous data as well."
"Yes, Sir."
"To your posts, people," Moriyama says, not unkindly. "We've got over seven hours until we're in the clear. Keep an eye out."
There's a rustle of turning chairs and beeping consoles, except for two of the young ensigns in one corner, muttering to each other from adjoining stations.
"What trump card? Is he talking about that battle android?"
Moriyama strokes his mustache and looks ignorant. The way the bridge is designed, he can hear just about everybody, but young officers don't always realize that.
"That's right," says his friend. "Whoa, you mean you didn't know?"
"I just figured it was some crazy rumor. I mean, with Realian technology around these days? Only place I've heard of androids is in old space novels."
"Seriously. But yeah, it's going on right here belowdecks." The boy waves grandiosely. "Though I heard the project's really behind schedule. But you can't blame them. There were casualties during their boot-up test two years ago, and they've been taking it really carefully since..." He's clearly enjoying a chance to hold forth. "Trump card or no, though, it's still an experiment. And I can't imagine one android's going to make that much of a difference, even if it is cool."
"Just Vector guys showing off?"
"Or somebody's outdated hobby." The boy sighs, morose, as if he's hoping that one little outdated android will flatten fleets of Gnosis.
Cherenkov's paced over behind them. "They say ignorance is bliss," he says quietly, less gruff than usual. "Looks like they were right."
The two chattering ensigns snap to their posts, clearly terrified of the Russian menace. "Commander, Sir?"
Cherenkov shrugs, cryptic. "I'm just envious. That's all."
This post is part of Letterblade's Blogathon 2010 madness, to raise money for Heifer Project International. Please go here to pledge your support.