Futuristic The Black Divide (Paused)

[Cartoonicat]

"Noooo," my head falls pitifully against his shoulder and whine: "I thought it would work." Complaining does no good, but I loathe risky decisions and his logic is sound.

"We'll repair it, I guess," I mumble eventually. "At least we'll have a spare if it goes kaput."

 

[ArcticFox]

"It's a deal!" Roshan nods and quickly hands you over the tools.

You make a poor assistant, but Roshan mutters that it's better than nothing: rather than asking for his tools by name, he ends up describing them. "Half a meter, bright silver, with a head that looks like an angry duck. Or my ex-girlfriend. No, the other one."

Despite him chuckling to himself, you end up drawn into a friendly argument about supplies and priorities. "You know, if you bought me better quality parts, I wouldn't have to repair them so damn often."

--

It's taken several hours, and the engine is just about back to normal. However, you leave Roshan muttering about the fuel injectors, and how he'll need to keep a close eye on them in the future.

You know that this sort of query is going to come up again and again on the trip: speed versus caution, and success versus survival. You'll have to strike a delicate balance to keep everyone happy and healthy while getting your cargo delivered on time.

--

A bite to eat, the day sliding past. It's lunchtime now, but you still have time to see someone.

- Dylan is new, you should help him out.
- Eira is making corrections to the course without consulting with you, you should check it out.

 

[Cartoonicat]

This is what I enjoy most: Casual conversation, friendly banter, teamwork. I can't stifle a snort in time when Roshan likes one of the tools to his ex-girlfriend and, soon, it bubbles into laughter.

"I'm trying, I'm trying," I wave off his concern, despite taking it to heart; I'll try to factor in more money to the engineering budget next month.

---

By time we're done and I check the time, I want to throw myself against the airlock. Not necessarily out of it—we can make up the lost time, somehow, I'm sure!—but just enough to express how Completely Screwed my schedule, in my mind, says I am.

The repairs took longer than I expected and, now, I am worried I upset the balance of productivity.

---

"New guy, or decision-making...?" I ponder the two routes, eventually deciding to check in on the newbie. He's in unfamiliar territory and that is scary enough, much less handling the new environment on his own. I should at least offer some reassurance.

 

[ArcticFox]

You head into the midquarters, the heart of the ship, to the galley and the R&R room. Dylan doesn't have an office as such, or one place to work from like Shiori and Roshan do, but if he's not fixing something, you can normally find him hunched over his personal computer in the galley.

The galley is a mess. Some of the cupboards hang half-open, which is a safety hazard: they have to be locked shut in case of emergency manoeuvres. Tinned goods and dried food sit in boxes on the floor as if someone got distracted partway through packing them away. Dylan's personal computer sits on the countertop next to a half-finished mug of gritty coffee that's long gone cold;. The screen is locked but the device is still running as if he'd stopped halfway through a task.

Dylan is an absolute rookie: he joined the crew days before take-off. You had strong reservations about taking him on, but the Eleos needed a quartermaster, and you needed to leave on schedule. But his resume promised a year's experience of vacuum work and spacefaring: he should know better than to leave things like this.

You find a scrap of paper pinned under his coffee cup: a note that asks you to come look at the supplies.

- Tidy up before heading down there.
- Go to Dylan and make sure he tidies this up later.
- Send a message to Oscar asking him to tidy the galley up.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Reading the note, I let out a sigh and crumple it up for the trashcan. "Year's experience, my butt," I mumble, beginning to tidy things up. While I can't spend forever cleaning, especially with my schedule packed as it is, there's no harm in lending a hand on occasion.

Yet, as I wash out the mug of stale coffee and begin closing the cupboards, I find myself unpacking what was left of Dylan's responsibility. It's not my job and I know that, but leaving things the way they are feels wrong.

Maybe with a clean workspace, he'll be more productive.

 

[ArcticFox]

You square things away, locking the cupboards shut and wiping down the countertops with antiseptic foam. Twenty minutes later, you make your way down to the cargo deck.

The cargo deck has two sections to it: one for supplies and storage, and the other for temporary luggage, docking, and transit. The latter is in use by your private passenger, Victor Palladino, whereas Dylan asked to meet you in the former.

You head over to the low-ceilinged warren and start winding your way through the maze-like passages. This design is safer, with each room's cargo strapped securely, and categories separated in case of contagion, but it does make it harder to find your way around.

You find Dylan in a dark corner of the room for edible supplies, sitting cross-legged with his back propped up against a crate of soy protein cubes. The shadows cover his face and make it hard to see his expression. He starts when you enter, and jumps to his feet.

"Zyrina, hey! Thanks for coming! There might be an issue with some of the produce, let me show you!"

- Ask him to explain the mess first.
- Tell him to calm down and show you the problem.
- Ask him if he's okay.
- Tell him to go ahead.
- Something else.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I have but a moment to decipher his expression, unreadable in the dark, before he leaps to his feet with enough zeal to make me wonder if I imagined things. "Um, okay," I nod dumbly. An issue with produce is Bad News, yet the threat feels far away; between the galley mess and what I may or may not have just seen, did Dylan have an issue?

Being weird about it won't help, though, so I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile and a pat on the back, instead. "I mean, lead the way! Whatever it is, I'm sure we can fix it."

 

[ArcticFox]

"Great! Here!"

Now talking a mile-a-minute about sterilisation procedures, Dylan flicks on the lights for this room and pauses only to wince against the stuttering, harsh glare. In the light, you can see bruise-dark circles under his eyes, his porcelain-like skin papery and pale and his dark hair glittering with blond roots as it's growing out. His shoulders are as broad and Earth-bred as ever, without any of the low-gravity narrowness that comes from growing up in the Belt, but he's hunched with tiredness.

The exhaustion doesn't seem to be slowing him down right now. He brings you over to a refrigerated crate, the lid still firmly locked in place. The readout on the access panel describes its contents: Vegetables, Long-Life: Brassicas x 50, Umbelliferae x 100, Allium x 150, Dioscorea x 50.

"The problem is here," Dylan says, tapping at the readout and bringing up the records for pre-flight preparations. "There's no confirmation that they've been sterilised. What should we do?"

Before you make a decision, you should consider all the facts and the possible consequences. If you're not careful, Dylan will end up doing something… ill-advised.

- Maybe someone just forgot to add that they have been sterilised.
- Check the supplies to see if there is enough without the crate.
- Check with Shiori if you can sterilise it onboard.
- Throw the crate through the airlock.
- Keep the crate, but keep it sealed.
- Unpack the crate and mix with the rest of the supplies.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"Wha—... wait, what?" I blink away my surprise at his appearance, attention tearing, finally, towards the most pressing issue at hand: "It isn't sterilized? Let me see," I say. Upon closer inspection, the day feels impossibly longer.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking and thinking and trying to avoid the most obvious answer: Shiori. It's the perfect opportunity to find out sterilization options and get Dylan a check-up in the process but, for the sake of efficiency and overseeing the health of my crew, I should go with him. This means Oscar took a dive for me for no reason and I have to face Medical sooner rather than later.

Well, crap.

"We'll go speak with Shiori and see what our options are as far as sterilization goes," I say, finally. Then, after a pause, I add: "Also, Dylan... are you holding up okay?"

 

[ArcticFox]

"I'm fine, yes." Dylan nods quickly.

You have a short conversation over the com with Shiori who, as you could have guessed, advises flushing the crate to be on the safe side. When you bring up the idea of decontamination, she gives a little thoughtful sigh, humming under her breath.

"We can save the crate, but not the contents. They use radiation decon, we'd have to use chemicals, which is going to render the food inedible."

"Swing and a miss," Dylan mutters to himself, and kicks his heel along the floor.

- Check the supplies to see if there is enough without the crate.
- Throw the crate through the airlock.
- Keep the crate, but keep it sealed.
- Unpack the crate and mix with the rest of the supplies.

 

[Cartoonicat]

After eyeing Dylan curiously, I relent with a sigh. He's fairly new, so I don't have the rapport with him that I do my other crewmembers; an intervention probably won't be well-received and I don't want any bad blood within the team. I'm better off keeping an eye on him, instead. At least, for now.

"I'd like to keep the crate and contents sealed, but there's always the risk of it getting opened or mixed up somehow... Do we have enough supplies to get by without the contents of this crate?" I ask.

 

[ArcticFox]

Dylan watches you with pale, lambent eyes as you scroll through the ship's inventory.

You stocked up well for this trip. If you're careful, and if you make sure to buy some veggies when you stop off at the waystation Martian Beta, you won't have any problems. But the nutritional value lost will have to be supplemented with the famously chalky and flavorless vitamin paste that policy states you have to carry at all times. Your crew certainly won't enjoy the voyage as much as they would otherwise.

"I'll put a big sign on it so no-one accidentally opens it until you're ready," Dylan says after you give the order.

He gives you a little salute that's too earnest to be a joke.

"And I'm really sorry about the galley. The mess and stuff. I'll keep on top of things better in the future."

- Ask him if he's okay.
- Reprimand him.
- Let him off.
- Something else.

 

[Cartoonicat]

It's disappointing, but accidents happen. The vitamin paste will have to do for now. I ponder, absently, for any ideas that may make up for the loss but my sugar stash isn't big enough to accommodate everyone, last I checked. Though, I haven't really been counting...

"Good, thank you. Make sure nobody gets into it." I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with the contents, but maybe it'll come in handy later. Dylan's salute draws my attention to him and I am reminded of yet another pressing problem. Smiling in what I hope is a reassuring way, I wave off mention of the galley. "It's okay, everyone makes mistakes or falls behind," I tell him, then add, "but... are you sure you're okay? I'm here if you need to talk; I'd be a poor captain otherwise."

 

[ArcticFox]

Dylan glances at you with a vaguely concerned look, and his shoulders hunch in. "I'm fine. It's just weird, you know. Adjusting to a new ship. But I'll do better, I promise."

He quickly escapes, disappearing into the maze of cargo rooms.

In the meantime, you've got other crew to see to. It's late afternoon, and tiredness is starting to creep around the edges of your thoughts. Some of your crew still need you, but your comms buzz with a terse request from your passenger, Victor Palladino of De Rege Technologies. He requests your presence, in that brooks-no-disobedience way.

You go straight to see him. You have to.

- You tried to assert your authority, but it didn't go well.
- You've been doing your best to keep him happy as he pays well.
- You don't care, you are immune to attitude.
- You are going to give him a piece of your mind one of these days.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"Wait, Dyla—" I try, but he's gone before I can finish my sentence. My brows narrow suspiciously at his escape, but I don't have time to dwell on his odd behavior: Victor Palladino wants to see me.

Taking a deep breath, I will myself to ignore the irritation. There's no use in getting upset. If anything, that will only hurt our relationship, not to mention my status as the reliable, pleasant captain that I try so hard to be. I'm Zyrina Centrich, the darling heiress—or ex-heiress, I guess?—to my family's massive corporation. If anyone can handle Victor Palladino, it's me... even if his attitude is downright unbearable.

Plus, Victor pays well and his stay is only temporary; it's not like I'll be appeasing him forever.

 

[ArcticFox]

He's arrogant, sure, but he's got reason to be. He's the Executive Asset Manager of a multi-planetary biotech corporation and you're the captain he's paying to transport him, and his cargo, to Vesta Station.

It's with those thoughts that you head to the transitory cargo deck: the area holding Victor's shipment, the mysterious cryogenically frozen pods he won't let anyone look at, and the little office he had you repurpose as his sleeping quarters.

He's sitting at his makeshift desk, by the open hatchway with a full view of the cryopods, when you round the corner. He looks out of place, a flawless executive bedecked in suited perfection sitting at a metal table stained and battered with years of use.

"Captain," Victor says. His voice is honeyed and rich and deep, and his perfectly combed hair gleams in the fluorescent lights. "Thank you for coming down. I'd like to speak with you about our schedule."

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I remind myself of the positives as I step inside his makeshift office and, once I do, I'm reminded again that not everyone is completely intolerable. Surely, Victor has his good points—I just haven't found them, yet. Being amicable is the only way to find them.

Dipping my head in greeting, I stand tall and offer a bright smile. "Of course. We are currently on track to reach the destination within the scheduled timeframe. Did you have any concerns?"

 

[ArcticFox]

"We have a long haul ahead of us, Earth all the way to Vesta Station. The asteroid belt is at the fringes of our little inhabited corner of the Black, yes?"

Victor stands up from his desk in a smooth, confident motion. He's tall: not just Earth-bred, but lab-bred too, with genetically modified height and looks, a too-symmetrical face and too-bright eyes.

"I want us to have a positive working relationship, Captain, but your crew is making it difficult. They are undisciplined, and their attitudes and priorities are in direct conflict with the discreet and fast journey that you assured. They don't respect you or your authority, and they don't care about our deadline, or your on-time bonus. You must assert yourself with them if you are to have a fruitful relationship with De Rege Technologies."

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Taking the punches is usually easy, even when he tells me how to do my job, but his criticism of my crew boils my blood. They are good—no, incredible—people that I have at my side for a reason. I try to maintain my composure, yet my smile becomes forced.

"Your feedback has been noted," I respond, knowing I should leave it at that.

Do I? Well, Mom always did say I was too sensitive for politics.

"However, a crew is a direct reflection of the captain. Therefore, your qualms are with me, not them." I dip my head, eyes to my shoes. "With all due respect, I request that you please refrain from criticizing the hard-working people making this passage possible."

 

[ArcticFox]

Victor raises one eyebrow at you, a perfect picture of refined distaste. "You might want to ensure that your crew members actually fulfil their assigned duties. I saw the state of the galley earlier. Your quartermaster's incompetence is almost the only sign of him I've actually seen."

Your comm chirps insistently: rather than a message, this is a call from the navigator's nest.

- Take the call.
- Take the call and excuse yourself.
- Ignore the call and deal with Victor.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Just before I say something incredibly stupid, I'm granted the perfect escape. "Your feedback has been noted," I repeat, offering Victor another strained, faux-apologetic smile and gesture towards my insistent comms, feet already moving, "...but if you'll excuse me, duty calls."

I slip out the door and scurry down the hall before picking up. "Thanks for the save. What's up?"

 

[ArcticFox]

"Zyrina, some news."

It's Oscar: breathless and worried and excited.

"There's a distress call from another shipping vessel, the Elegant Glider. Earth-bound, and in need of an emergency restock."

Eira snarls over the line, "Like a bunch of idiots, they've managed to crawl close enough to home that T-PES saviour ships are too far out. They should've quit weeks ago and gotten themselves dragged back to Mars."

Oscar continues more cautiously, "I can get their captain on comms for you, if you like."

- Tell the ship you are coming to help.
- Ignore them, the T-PES will find them eventually and you have to keep on schedule.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Well, that's a wake-up call if I ever heard one. The stress of trying to accomplish everything on my personal daily schedule while making sure De Rege Technologies is pleased with their voyage evaporates immediately; we have a far bigger problem on our hands.

"Link me to the captain, please," I tell Oscar, moving deeper into the ship. "In the meantime, update Dylan on the situation. I want a report of what supplies we have to offer."

 

[ArcticFox]

Victor frowns silently, and you can feel the judgment rolling off him as he watches you move from the cargo bay, but Oscar and Eira both burble with approval.

"Their captain has already requested to meet."

They'll take the lead on docking procedures, Oscar tells you: you just need to head to the airlock and meet their captain.

Your crew springs into action: Eira manoeuvring the ship for docking, Oscar and Dylan preparing the supplies. Dylan messages you frantically, asking how much of your inventory you want to give them.

- Be generous and include the questionable vegetables.
- Be generous but don't include the vegetables.
- Be cautious and keep for yourself enough.
- Send through an exact list of things you want to be packed.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I coordinate with Dylan on my way to the airlock, eager to be generous but hesitant to include the questionable vegetables. "Give them enough to get to the next stop, be it Earth or a station en route," I message him as I round the corner, "but hold off on the vegetable crate we talked about earlier. I'm going to leave that decision up to their captain if I decide to risk it at all."

Eventually, I reach the airlock.