Sunday, July 24, 2016

read:Number's Game (next)

As described, the center of the Harper's housed the bridge, shielded by miles of a natural occurring asteroid, a 'sub derma' preparation dampening layer, a double-folded tesseract metal super-structure...the engineers of the Plutonian class claimed it to be the safest place in any habitable system for a human.  The interior of a Plutonian ship was nicknamed the 'core'.  The class, and even the Harper's by name, was battle tested and famed for its safety rating.  Although the engineers would never agree, the legend was that it could survive even scaled planetary catastrophes when it was put to rigorous modeling.

Surrounding the bridge, which itself was in its own metallic pod, was the Den.  The Den was designed to hold the entire crew if there were any such catastrophe.  It was a multi-use area, with hotelling outfit - survivable and operational if all else had failed.  When not the exception, it served as the commons.

Cal was called to the Den along with the rest of his stick.  The stick which Cal was assigned on the Harper's was designed for pre-battle, so the logic fell along those disciplines.  PRE was how they were known, although the highers would term them 'strategy'.  So, there was a very minute dissonance in this.  The ranks figured themselves as PRE, the brass treated them as strategy.

The leader of the stick, Danker, as he was called (no one knew exactly why, he preceded them all by three years), leaned up against the wall and let them chatter for a bit.  He had a pad in his hand, but he was not touching it in any meaningful way.  Cal watched him, as Danker would sometimes remark, 'like a cat'.  He's just listening in.  It's a smart thing to do, listen.  You will find out more about your crew then than a dozen interviews.

The stick had eight roles: mixture, operations, engineering, control, stations, response, comms, and trajectory.  Danker had them all under his leadership: eight as his own.

Cal sat in proximity of a conversation, to pretend he was a part of it.  He nodded at random times to make it appear that way.  Cal knew Danker didn't care.  Cal did what he was supposed to do and constantly read up.  He didn't need to be a friendly dog.

The conversation was between Lariot and Kaylee, control and trajectory.  They were talking about the news, comparing notes, since they were part of the black operations, comms were limited, and, at best, fragmentary.  But, pieces of the Interior, the regular life, came to them from family.  It was much more intimate this way.  They spoke about their respective pets, or their siblings, very rarely of their parents.  Cal had none of these things, so he would smile if they looked at him.  He had heard the patterns in their speech enough to know when to do that.

Danker finally put the tech tablet down and asked them to file up.  They took the single table, a bench on either side and him at the center.  He scraped a chair underneath himself and kept an eye on all of them at once.  It was a talent that Cal envied.  He saw people, but not all at once.  Danker did a decent job of keeping them in step, almost effortlessly.

"We've got a mission, but you know the drill: I don't have enough details yet for us to break off in a silence room.  But I can tell you to get ready.  Know the Harper's.  Know more about it then ever before, as I know you can.  Charise, I need you to embed with the other operations teams immediately and start talking through post-stage.  Garland..."  Danker went through each.

"Cal, how are your mixtures for multiples?"

"I have them, but, you are right, I've ran them, but not enough.  I'll get on them right now.  Any idea of the numbers?"

"Wish I can tell you.  I only mention multiples because I've been looking at action debriefs and you guys are on point for single engagements.  I worry about multiples only because you haven't done them enough.  The percentages come back and we need to shore them up."

"Can we live model?  I would suggest that."  From Lariot.  He knew his stuff.  Danker nodded.

"Yes, the stick heads are getting together on that.  Expect one, but only after we repair the damages from the last engagement."

"Time?"

"I'm going to give us three days.  We meet back here and all of the actionables are done by then."

"Harper's!" We cried out, as a single stick, and they all dashed off around the ship.

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