Kakistocrat
SOC-12
It’s good as it stands. (My only comments would be on trivial minutiae.)
You Signed Up for This (Fanfic from Boughene PbP ATU)
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Thank you for the feedback!
One small nitpick:
"Shattered glass is still raining down, I’ve dragged Olga under the table, and the restaurant’s other customers took cover too."
I'd suggest changing the last bit to "...and the restaurant's other customers have taken cover too."
Has the fact that they are in a restaurant been mentioned previously? If so, then there's maybe "...and the other diners have taken cover too."
No, this is straight-up in media res -- a couple of in-setting seconds after I executed on Raymond Chandler's advice* "When in doubt have a man come through a door with a gun in his hand." Pointing out that their fellow victims are also in a restaurant was part of establishing the setting.
And thank you for the feedback as well!
----------------
*This was not really advice. It was just an observation on pulp fiction writing technique.
Here's the next installment. It's incomplete, but I hit a stopping point.
As always, critiques are welcome!
It's intended for readers who aren't familiar with Traveller's rules, but who have read the previous two installments, upthread.
I expect to revise it again. (ETA: Current set of edits done. More to come in continuation and the final draft.)
You Signed up for This, Pt. 3
(Draft 2.75)
It had been a difficult farewell to, and for, Melissa, but we’d agreed it was necessary – and neither of us knew if she would ever come back. She’d had to go face the Riket Apparatus alone, since we couldn’t trust the starship to be straight with us. And here I am again, standing under the front of the large steel arrowhead that is the Oganesson Pegasus, a week -- and six and a half light years -- from the first time I’d done this. Key the code, look up to watch the airlock hatch spin open, and climb the ladder past the nose landing gear. Cycle the cozy airlock to swap Efate’s industry-choked air for the sterile starship environment, then step out into the central corridor. Look left toward the open cockpit door, then to the right down past the living quarters to the wardroom. Nobody’s there. It’s quiet, but not the “too quiet” of foreboding. At least not yet.
“Olga?” I call out. It’s either going to be her, or Melissa pretending to be her – though that’s not likely, knowing what was in the hypno-drug cocktail the Riket Apparatus shot into her before it started editing her memories and personality to turn her back into Olga. Or... something could have gone terribly wrong.
“Hello!” Olga answers cheerfully from out of sight in the wardroom. “Who are you, and where am I? Just curious though -- it’s not a big deal.”
Nothing’s gone wrong, but my throat tightens nonetheless. Melissa’s really gone again.
“I’m Scout Mike Blandship, the pilot assigned to this ship,” I announce confidently as she approaches. “We’re at Efate now. Everything’s ok, as far as I know.”
“Oh, you’re the pilot I’ve been waiting for. That’s terrific -- now we can get going! Where are we going, anyhow? How about Regina? The ship’s autopilot suggested it when I asked.”
… And there it is, I think. Regina is the subsector capitol, much safer than we are while here at Efate, and should be a good place to start my post-retirement reporting. It’s also six parsecs away, and the Pegasus is supposed to be able to Jump five parsecs in one go – known as Jump Five. Not quite enough, but two shorter one-week Jumps would do it.
And that’s why Melissa and I agreed she needed to become Olga again: the Jump engines that are actually back there can’t even do four parsecs, let alone five! What it’s got back there instead of a Jump Five drive, is a primary with a range of three parsecs, a backup that can do two, and a fusion reactor that could power both at once if needed. That’s all well and good, and I let Olga work the engines since that’s not really my thing – but one of the basic things you learn in Pilot training is that drive ratings cannot be summed. They’ve tried. They failed. People died.
But Olga hadn’t seen any problem with them, so I never checked – to her, they were perfectly ordinary, and there was no reason the ship couldn’t do a five-parsec Jump. Melissa was of a different mind about that when she first walked back into the engine room. It took all she had to stay calm, then to mentally reach out to ask me to come verify that she hadn’t gone mad. She hadn’t, of course – the Oganesson Pegasus simply had a different set of hyperspace drives than it was supposed to have.
When asked, the ship’s computer once again reported it could do Jump Five. Except that it can’t! Melissa and I needed to find out if and how it could, and quickly realized that if we couldn’t even trust the ship to report its own systems accurately, we might well not be able to trust it about much else.
So we agreed to allow the ship to turn her back into Olga by using the Riket Apparatus in her assigned cabin. Olga knew something about that weird engine setup that Melissa – and the Imperium’s best scientists -- didn’t. That, or she was somehow deluded, and we couldn’t know unless we tried, and we needed her to be Olga so she could make it work, if it could work.
The ship didn’t know she had become not-Olga to begin with, though, only that the overlay was fading and needed to be refreshed. Melissa said she felt compelled to go under again as an echo of the conditioning that made her Olga, but her mind-reading talents let her wall it off. Those talents also let her leave a reminder to herself to remember how the engines work when she gets our from under the Olga personality again. If we can break her back out, anyhow. But for now, it’s Olga I’m dealing with.
I break from my reverie with a start, and maybe a little skepticism. “Regina, eh?” I ask. “Did it suggest a route, too?”
She thinks for a moment. “Yes, it did. Jump-three to Knorbes, then another Jump-three to Regina. Easy!”
Too easy, I think. The Pegasus could do that run without challenging its claimed Jump range, and that won’t do. “Olga, how about giving this thing a real test? Jump-five to the Scout Base at Hefry, then Jump-one to Regina?” Now let’s see how she and the ship deal with that…
“Sure thing! That’s what I’m here for,” she replies brightly. “If this were a plain Jump-two Scout/Courier, the ship wouldn’t need my help with the engines and astrogation.” And neither would you, she didn’t add because that’s not how she thinks – but it’s how I think. But then, if General Products had built it right in the first place, I wouldn’t need help with it anyhow.
The clocks on the cockpit panel count up, and they count down. 168:17:43, :44, :45… rolling up the hours, minutes, and seconds of the week we’ve been outside the real universe; 00:00:15, :14, :13… counting down the seconds until we fall out of Jumpspace. Four, three – suddenly the hazy grey of this little pocket universe “pops” and the stars re-appear outside the windows a moment early. It happens. I check the boards and get my bearings, then look out the window. Hefry’s a small and airless rockball, and we should be almost on top of it. The system’s orange dwarf star should be visible to Coreward, and its red dwarf secondary off to galactic Trailing, and dim. Beacons for the Scout Base ought to start showing up on the screens right… about… now.
Those aren’t the scout base beacons. We’re getting comms traffic from Regina. Regina? Three-light-years-away-from-Hefry, Regina?! I look again and check the screens – we’re two light-seconds out from a gas giant planet with a Terra-normal world in its orbit. Star’s yellow-white with a brown dwarf close-in, and there’s a distant yellow dwarf companion.
That’s Regina, all right.
Not our intended destination.
Not in range of the Jump Drive, even if we had the right one installed.
I look rightward, to ask an unfazed Olga in the co-pilot’s seat, “Hey, could you tell me where you think we are?”
“Looks like Regina,” she replies cheerily, then turns back to the controls.
I draw a deep breath, count to ten. “Do you have any idea how this happened?” I inquire, with all the politeness I can muster.
“Nope,” she answers.
A bit of skepticism sneaks into my tone, despite my efforts. “You plotted the course, and tuned the drives. You didn’t notice anything unusual?”
She’s still almost obliviously cheerful. “Nope. Easy plot, simple drive settings. Kinda spaced out while doing it, then okayed the final computations. And here we are!”
My incredulity escapes. “Where did you plot our course for, last week when we started the Jump?”
Her cheer fades to puzzlement. “Hefry? Pretty sure it was Hefry.”
Exasperated, I sigh. “But we’re at Regina. Nailed the Jump exit, perfect navigation, perfect drive settings.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks! That was pretty good, wasn’t it?
“Wasn’t it?” she wonders aloud.
Something is very wrong with Olga here, I think. And with the ship. We need to get Melissa back out again, but not until we’re dirtside and away from the ship. “Yes, it was very good, except for the part where we were going to Hefry because the ship couldn’t get to Regina in one hop.”
“But Mike, it did. Pretty neat, huh?”
“You can’t be serious. Our ship just misjumped – at least, I assume it did -- and instead of ending up in deep space halfway into the next subsector the way misjumps always go, it’s right where we needed to be.” Exasperation clenches my jaw and fists, but my self-restraint stops it there. “That. Just. Does. Not. Happen. You don’t remember anything unusual?”
“Totally ordinary, boss. I set the Jump course for Hefry, and we came out at Regina exactly as I set the course to be.”
Something’s very wrong with her. “Wait. You said you set our Jump course for Hefry, then you said that you meant for us to come out at Regina. Which was it?”
“Yes,” she replies brightly, then her mood sours. “Please, I don’t want to think about it.”
As always, critiques are welcome!
It's intended for readers who aren't familiar with Traveller's rules, but who have read the previous two installments, upthread.
I expect to revise it again. (ETA: Current set of edits done. More to come in continuation and the final draft.)
You Signed up for This, Pt. 3
(Draft 2.75)
It had been a difficult farewell to, and for, Melissa, but we’d agreed it was necessary – and neither of us knew if she would ever come back. She’d had to go face the Riket Apparatus alone, since we couldn’t trust the starship to be straight with us. And here I am again, standing under the front of the large steel arrowhead that is the Oganesson Pegasus, a week -- and six and a half light years -- from the first time I’d done this. Key the code, look up to watch the airlock hatch spin open, and climb the ladder past the nose landing gear. Cycle the cozy airlock to swap Efate’s industry-choked air for the sterile starship environment, then step out into the central corridor. Look left toward the open cockpit door, then to the right down past the living quarters to the wardroom. Nobody’s there. It’s quiet, but not the “too quiet” of foreboding. At least not yet.
“Olga?” I call out. It’s either going to be her, or Melissa pretending to be her – though that’s not likely, knowing what was in the hypno-drug cocktail the Riket Apparatus shot into her before it started editing her memories and personality to turn her back into Olga. Or... something could have gone terribly wrong.
“Hello!” Olga answers cheerfully from out of sight in the wardroom. “Who are you, and where am I? Just curious though -- it’s not a big deal.”
Nothing’s gone wrong, but my throat tightens nonetheless. Melissa’s really gone again.
“I’m Scout Mike Blandship, the pilot assigned to this ship,” I announce confidently as she approaches. “We’re at Efate now. Everything’s ok, as far as I know.”
“Oh, you’re the pilot I’ve been waiting for. That’s terrific -- now we can get going! Where are we going, anyhow? How about Regina? The ship’s autopilot suggested it when I asked.”
… And there it is, I think. Regina is the subsector capitol, much safer than we are while here at Efate, and should be a good place to start my post-retirement reporting. It’s also six parsecs away, and the Pegasus is supposed to be able to Jump five parsecs in one go – known as Jump Five. Not quite enough, but two shorter one-week Jumps would do it.
And that’s why Melissa and I agreed she needed to become Olga again: the Jump engines that are actually back there can’t even do four parsecs, let alone five! What it’s got back there instead of a Jump Five drive, is a primary with a range of three parsecs, a backup that can do two, and a fusion reactor that could power both at once if needed. That’s all well and good, and I let Olga work the engines since that’s not really my thing – but one of the basic things you learn in Pilot training is that drive ratings cannot be summed. They’ve tried. They failed. People died.
But Olga hadn’t seen any problem with them, so I never checked – to her, they were perfectly ordinary, and there was no reason the ship couldn’t do a five-parsec Jump. Melissa was of a different mind about that when she first walked back into the engine room. It took all she had to stay calm, then to mentally reach out to ask me to come verify that she hadn’t gone mad. She hadn’t, of course – the Oganesson Pegasus simply had a different set of hyperspace drives than it was supposed to have.
When asked, the ship’s computer once again reported it could do Jump Five. Except that it can’t! Melissa and I needed to find out if and how it could, and quickly realized that if we couldn’t even trust the ship to report its own systems accurately, we might well not be able to trust it about much else.
So we agreed to allow the ship to turn her back into Olga by using the Riket Apparatus in her assigned cabin. Olga knew something about that weird engine setup that Melissa – and the Imperium’s best scientists -- didn’t. That, or she was somehow deluded, and we couldn’t know unless we tried, and we needed her to be Olga so she could make it work, if it could work.
The ship didn’t know she had become not-Olga to begin with, though, only that the overlay was fading and needed to be refreshed. Melissa said she felt compelled to go under again as an echo of the conditioning that made her Olga, but her mind-reading talents let her wall it off. Those talents also let her leave a reminder to herself to remember how the engines work when she gets our from under the Olga personality again. If we can break her back out, anyhow. But for now, it’s Olga I’m dealing with.
I break from my reverie with a start, and maybe a little skepticism. “Regina, eh?” I ask. “Did it suggest a route, too?”
She thinks for a moment. “Yes, it did. Jump-three to Knorbes, then another Jump-three to Regina. Easy!”
Too easy, I think. The Pegasus could do that run without challenging its claimed Jump range, and that won’t do. “Olga, how about giving this thing a real test? Jump-five to the Scout Base at Hefry, then Jump-one to Regina?” Now let’s see how she and the ship deal with that…
“Sure thing! That’s what I’m here for,” she replies brightly. “If this were a plain Jump-two Scout/Courier, the ship wouldn’t need my help with the engines and astrogation.” And neither would you, she didn’t add because that’s not how she thinks – but it’s how I think. But then, if General Products had built it right in the first place, I wouldn’t need help with it anyhow.
The clocks on the cockpit panel count up, and they count down. 168:17:43, :44, :45… rolling up the hours, minutes, and seconds of the week we’ve been outside the real universe; 00:00:15, :14, :13… counting down the seconds until we fall out of Jumpspace. Four, three – suddenly the hazy grey of this little pocket universe “pops” and the stars re-appear outside the windows a moment early. It happens. I check the boards and get my bearings, then look out the window. Hefry’s a small and airless rockball, and we should be almost on top of it. The system’s orange dwarf star should be visible to Coreward, and its red dwarf secondary off to galactic Trailing, and dim. Beacons for the Scout Base ought to start showing up on the screens right… about… now.
Those aren’t the scout base beacons. We’re getting comms traffic from Regina. Regina? Three-light-years-away-from-Hefry, Regina?! I look again and check the screens – we’re two light-seconds out from a gas giant planet with a Terra-normal world in its orbit. Star’s yellow-white with a brown dwarf close-in, and there’s a distant yellow dwarf companion.
That’s Regina, all right.
Not our intended destination.
Not in range of the Jump Drive, even if we had the right one installed.
I look rightward, to ask an unfazed Olga in the co-pilot’s seat, “Hey, could you tell me where you think we are?”
“Looks like Regina,” she replies cheerily, then turns back to the controls.
I draw a deep breath, count to ten. “Do you have any idea how this happened?” I inquire, with all the politeness I can muster.
“Nope,” she answers.
A bit of skepticism sneaks into my tone, despite my efforts. “You plotted the course, and tuned the drives. You didn’t notice anything unusual?”
She’s still almost obliviously cheerful. “Nope. Easy plot, simple drive settings. Kinda spaced out while doing it, then okayed the final computations. And here we are!”
My incredulity escapes. “Where did you plot our course for, last week when we started the Jump?”
Her cheer fades to puzzlement. “Hefry? Pretty sure it was Hefry.”
Exasperated, I sigh. “But we’re at Regina. Nailed the Jump exit, perfect navigation, perfect drive settings.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks! That was pretty good, wasn’t it?
“Wasn’t it?” she wonders aloud.
Something is very wrong with Olga here, I think. And with the ship. We need to get Melissa back out again, but not until we’re dirtside and away from the ship. “Yes, it was very good, except for the part where we were going to Hefry because the ship couldn’t get to Regina in one hop.”
“But Mike, it did. Pretty neat, huh?”
“You can’t be serious. Our ship just misjumped – at least, I assume it did -- and instead of ending up in deep space halfway into the next subsector the way misjumps always go, it’s right where we needed to be.” Exasperation clenches my jaw and fists, but my self-restraint stops it there. “That. Just. Does. Not. Happen. You don’t remember anything unusual?”
“Totally ordinary, boss. I set the Jump course for Hefry, and we came out at Regina exactly as I set the course to be.”
Something’s very wrong with her. “Wait. You said you set our Jump course for Hefry, then you said that you meant for us to come out at Regina. Which was it?”
“Yes,” she replies brightly, then her mood sours. “Please, I don’t want to think about it.”
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Spinward Flow
SOC-14 1K
For those of us who do know Traveller ... WHUT? 
Bootstrap maker-device recovery from scratch, by a ship that got its drives imploded. Starts with the OEM computer... which then woke up and wants to find its last known crew. Already (kind of) has one of the passengers....For those of us who do know Traveller ... WHUT?
How else do you get at least J6 out of a J2 and J3 drive?
Oh yeah, should have spoiler-alerted there, shouldn't I?
Honestly, I don't think I'll stick the landing within the allotted page count....
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Spinward Flow
SOC-14 1K
Kakistocrat
SOC-12
At the moment, I only have a question: what is the pronunciation of “Riket”?
No idea. Named for the missing scientist in Expedition to Zhodane, but it's not specified there either.
That scenario suggests he invented it, but I suspect he may have independently re-invented something that's been around for a while elsewhere.
Spinward Flow
SOC-14 1K
Sounds like Cricket.
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