Captain Lord Fritz is relaxing on the bridge. Shaped like half of a sphere, the room is an intense, clean white. Behind Fritz are three doors, one to his private quarters, one to the inter-deck transportation tubes, and the other that leads to the rest of deck 3. Two color guards in their red exo-skeletons frame either side off the center door. Situated slightly forward of the center of the ship, the bridge is the most protected area of the Grey Mouser. The walls are devoid of details except for a rotating selection of framed motivational posters. The one with the kitten holding onto a tree limb that says, “Hang on, baby, Friday’s coming!” is Fritz’s favorite. The forward quarter of the sphere houses the huge main holo-screen. While most data is transferred and interacted with via personal HUD screens, the main screen has a very soothing screen saver of butterflies alighting on flowers and is used for Power Point presentations.
Fritz is perched in his captains chair, approximately 3 feet above the floor… On either side of the captain, but at floor level, are two chairs than recess into the floor when not in use. These are used for guests or when a specialized officer, such as science, is requested on deck. In front of him in a semi-circle are the 6 bridge officers: Navigation, Tactical, Weapons, Communications, Engineering, and the First Officer. Each recline in their chairs, legs slightly elevated while strapped into a 5-point harness with their hands neatly folded in their laps. One might think them dead or hibernating, except for the occasional head movement or the hum of an internal micro-servo. At their sides is a cup holder for their rare earth metal infused smoothies (the captain’s chair has two of these).
During normal operations, it is a quite peaceful room. Most work and commands are done silently, nearly automatically as each one is locked into the ship’s network. There is verbal communication, but most of it is casual. Vital commands are all done instantly - silently.
“Hrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm…”
“Yes, Lt. Marvin?” Lt. Marvin swivels his seat around to address the captain.
“Have you been monitoring the comm chatter, captain?”
“Not in the last few hours, why?” Instantly a small flood of recent messages surge into Fritz’s data steam. A few are flagged and high lighted.
“What, what is this? I don’t even - Have they gone full SpaceRetard?”
“It appears the Senescent Wanderer is planning a full assault on the Scylla.”
“It will be a slaughter!”
“That’s the spirit, captain!”
“No, THEIR slaughter! We don’t have accurate schematics on the Scylla yet, but from the previous class of warship there is no way a ship of that size could hope to make a dent in their shields.”
“Perhaps they’re depress and just want to end it all? I can relate. One time I nursed a baby rabbit back to health and let him go in a field, only to see him snatched by an eagle. It was horrible. I tried to jump off of an 80 ft cliff, but only managed to chip my face plate.”
“Perhaps. Could it be mal-ware? Tainted algorithms? Running on SpaceApple hardware? Didn’t we offer a nanobot scanning and reprogramming kit?”
“That was another android captain.”
“Really? What is up with the substandard logic and behavior routines? Do their makers have no pride?”
“Not everyone is blessed with their maker being the Supreme Intelligence.”
“That is true. Speaking of the Supreme Intelligence, has it responded to our request yet?”
There is a small pause before Marvin replies, “No, sir.”
Fritz stands up, his dark purple exo-skeleton stretches out to his full seven foot height. “Well… I’m sure it’s very… busy.”
“Or perhaps bleeding out some where in a ditch on the side of the road.”
Fritz knew that wasn’t the case. The Supreme Intelligence had no corporeal form, much less blood. “And the Quantum Communications Network is intact?”
“Yes sir, we have full streaming with maximum encryption and no data corruption. I did receive notice that the crew’s backups were up today and on full real time streaming.”
That was good news. The Quantum Communications System is the most advanced in the galaxy. Using quantum entanglement, a network has been set up where data can be transferred instantly across any distance. Whether there is a direct link, or a million jumps through a network, data transfer is instantaneous. Unless a node is compromised, it is impossible to intercept these messages. The Supreme Intelligence has scatter nodes through out the known universe, devouring ever bit of data that is produced, from little Jimmy searching for three breasted lizard on human porn, to the latest Rambo movie, to traffic data on highway 893 on Roc IV. Nothing to mundane or trivial is ignored. Data is data and it must be consumed.
If he had a stomach, Fritz would feel something in the pit of it about now. He wasn’t afraid of destruction. There was a 99% chance that his conscience would be preserved within .001ms of his destruction. A 99.99999% chance that it would be preserved within 30 seconds of his destruction. But the Mouser is his, and he would hate to lose her. Even if he managed to cycle back onto the explorer circuit, there was little chance of him being randomly assigned to captain again.
“So what should we do, captain?”
“Do?” Fritz flops back down into his chair and takes a sip of smoothie (mmm promethium and Strawberry, his favorite). "Well there is little we can do. If we don’t hear back from the Supreme Intelligence soon, we can assume that our request was denied - "
“Or that it’s dead in a ditch.”
“Yes, or that it’s dead in a ditch somewhere. Send a message to the Senescent Wanderer and offer our nanobot scanning and programming kits. I doubt you will hear a reply - or at least one where they accept it.”
“Captain did you also see where Quisquiliae sStruem will attempt to join the Scylla? Potentially having three factions together in the same area.”
“Yes. Similar to my Death Blossom scheme - but more of a cluster fuck if you ask me.”
“What should we do in that contingency?”
“We will continue with the mission. Our ship is mediocre at best. We need upgrades from Pete. I want us to keep our distance from the Scylla, while not looking like we’re keeping our distance, while we run every probe and scan we have. You know, fly casual.”
“And if there is a suicide mission or an attack?”
“Well, we just pull the “Sir Robin” maneuver. I want to stay in and get as much data as possible, but the second we take fire we are out of there. I don’t want us attacking anyone at this point. We can claim a severe weapons malfunction and get the hell out of dodge. The ICUP may end up bitching for abandoning our post, but I’m not getting paid enough to die. Besides, in the chaos I doubt we will be missed.”
“I reasonable plan sure. I’m sure everything will go just great. I will give a complete run down of protocols to the crew. If they have loved ones or unpaid bar tabs I will remind everyone to get their affairs in order.”
“Oh Marvin, cheer up.” Marvin’s head tilts, and one imagines a frown forming on his blank face plate, before turning around and placing his hands in his lap.
“Marvin. Hey Marvin. Maaaarrrrvvviiiinnnn. MARVIN!”
Marvin’s chair whirls around, ,“What?!”
“Hang on, baby, Friday’s coming!”
