Redshirts

CHAPTER TWO

The Intrepid’s four other new crew members were met on the ship by a petty officer named Del Sol, who quickly marched them off to their stations. Dahl was met by the Intrepid’s chief science officer, Q’eeng.

“Sir,” Dahl said, saluting.

Q’eeng returned the salute. “Ensign Junior Rank Dahl,” he said. “A pleasure to meet you. I do not always greet my department’s new arrivals in this manner, but I have just come off duty and I thought I would show you your station. Do you have any personal items you need to stow?”

“No, sir,” Dahl said. His and the others’ foot lockers were going through ship’s security for inspection and would be delivered to their quarters, the locations of which would be uploaded to their phones.

“I understand you spent several years on Forshan, and that you speak the language,” Q’eeng said. “All four dialects.”

“Yes, sir,” Dahl said.

“I studied it briefly at the Academy,” Q’eeng said, and then cleared his throat. “Aaachka faaachklalhach ghalall chkalalal.”

Dahl kept his face very still. Q’eeng had just attempted in the third dialect the traditional rightward schism greeting of “I offer you the bread of life,” but his phrasing and accent had transmuted the statement into “Let us violate cakes together.” Leaving aside the fact it would be highly unusual for a member of the rightward schism to voluntarily speak the third dialect, it being the native dialect of the founder of the leftward schism and therefore traditionally eschewed, mutual cake violating was not an accepted practice anywhere on Forshan.

“Aaachkla faaachklalhalu faadalalu chkalalal,” Dahl sad, returning the correct traditional response of “I break the bread of life with you” in the third dialect.

“Did I say that correctly?” Q’eeng asked.

“Your accent is very unusual, sir,” Dahl said.

“Indeed,” Q’eeng said. “Then perhaps I will leave any necessary Forshan speaking to you.”

“Yes, sir,” Dahl said.

“Follow me, Ensign,” Q’eeng said, and strode forward. Dahl raced to keep up.

Around Q’eeng the Intrepid was a hive of activity; crew members and officers moved purposefully through the halls, each appearing to have someplace very important to get to. Q’eeng strode through them as if he had his own bow wave; they would magically part for him as he came close and close behind him as he walked past.

“It’s like rush hour in here,” Dahl said, looking around.

“You’ll find this crew to be quite efficient and effective,” Q’eeng said. “As the flagship of the Universal Union, the Intrepid has its pick of crew.”

“I don’t doubt that, sir,” Dahl said, and looked briefly behind him. The crew members behind him had slowed down considerably and were staring at him and Q’eeng. Dahl couldn’t read their expressions.

“I understand you requested at the Academy to be stationed on the Intrepid,” Q’eeng said.

“Yes, sir,” Dahl said, returning his attention to his superior officer. “Your department is doing some real cutting-edge work. Some of the stuff you do on board is so out there we had a hard time re-creating it back at the Academy.”

“I hope that’s not a suggestion that we’re doing sloppy work,” Q’eeng said, with a slight, tense edge to his voice.

“Not at all, sir,” Dahl said. “Your reputation as a scientist is unimpeachable. And we know that in the kind of work your department does, initial conditions are both significant and difficult to re-create.”

Q’eeng seemed to relax at this. “Space is vast,” he said. “The Intrepid’s mission is to explore. Much of the science we do is front line—identify, describe, posit initial hypotheses. Then we move on, leaving it to others to follow our work.”

“Yes, sir,” Dahl said. “It’s that front line science that appeals to me. The exploration.”

“So,” Q’eeng said. “Do you see yourself participating in away team missions?”

Directly in front of them, a crew member seemed to stumble over his own feet. Dahl caught him. “Whoa,” Dahl said, propping him back up. “Careful with those feet, now.” The crew member pulled away, his mumbled “Thanks” very nearly dopplered as he hastened off.

“Agile and polite,” Dahl said, grinning, then stopped grinning when he noticed Q’eeng, also stopped, staring at him very intently. “Sir,” he said.

“Away teams,” Q’eeng said again. “Do you see yourself participating in them?”

“At the Academy I was known more as a lab rat,” Dahl said. Q’eeng seemed to frown at this. “But I realize that the Intrepid is a vessel of exploration. I’m looking forward to doing some of that exploration myself.”

“Very good,” Q’eeng said, and started moving forward again. “Being a ‘lab rat’ is fine at the Academy and may be fine on other ships. But the reason that the Intrepid has made so many of the discoveries that interested you in the first place is because of its crew’s willingness to get into the field and get its hands dirty. I’d ask you to keep that in mind.”

“Yes, sir,” Dahl said.

“Good,” Q’eeng said, and stopped at a door marked “Xenobiology.” He opened it, showing the laboratory beyond, and stepped through. Dahl followed.

It was empty.

“Where is everybody, sir?” Dahl asked.

“The Intrepid crew does a lot of cross-consultation with crew members in other departments, and often have secondary or supernumerary postings,” Q’eeng said. “You are supernumerary with the Linguistics Department for your facility in Forshan, for example. So people don’t always stay chained to their workstations.”

“Got it, sir,” Dahl said.

“Nevertheless,” Q’eeng said, pulled out his phone, and made a connection. “Lieutenant Collins. The newest member of your department is at your laboratory to present himself to you.” A pause. “Good. That is all.” Q’eeng put away his phone. “Lieutenant Collins will be along presently to welcome you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dahl said, and saluted. Q’eeng nodded, saluted in return and walked off into the hallway. Dahl went to the door and watched him go. Q’eeng’s bow wave preceded him until he turned a corner and went out of sight.

“Hey,” someone said behind Dahl. He turned. There was a crew member standing in the middle of the lab.

Dahl looked back out the door, to where Q’eeng had turned, and then back to the new crew member. “Hi,” Dahl said. “You weren’t here two seconds ago.”

“Yeah, we do that,” the crew member said, and walked over to Dahl and stretched out his hand. “Jake Cassaway.”

“Andy Dahl.” Dahl took his hand and shook it. “And how exactly do you do that?”

“Trade secret,” Cassaway said.

A door opened from the other side of the lab and another crew member entered the room from it.

“There goes the trade secret,” Cassaway said.

“What’s in there?” Dahl asked, motioning to the door.

“It’s a storage room,” Cassaway said.

“You were hiding in the storage room?” Dahl said.

“We weren’t hiding,” said the other crew member. “We were doing inventory.”

“Andy Dahl, this is Fiona Mbeke,” Cassaway said.

“Hello,” Dahl said.

“You should be glad that we were doing inventory,” Mbeke said. “Because now that means that it won’t be assigned to you as the new guy.”

“Well, then, thanks,” Dahl said.

“We’ll still make you get coffee,” Mbeke said.

“I would expect nothing less,” Dahl said.

“And look, here is the rest of us,” Cassaway said, and nodded as two new people came through the hallway door.

One of them immediately approached Dahl. He saw the lieutenant’s pip on her shoulder and saluted.

“Relax,” Collins said, and nevertheless returned the salute. “The only time we salute around here is when His Majesty comes through the door.”

“You mean Commander Q’eeng,” Dahl said.

“You see the pun there,” Collins said. “With ‘king,’ which is what his name sounds like.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dahl said.

“That’s a little nerd humor for you,” Collins said.

“I got it, ma’am,” Dahl said, smiling.

“Good,” Collins said. “Because the last thing we need is another humorless prick around here. You met Cassaway and Mbeke, I see.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dahl said.

“You’ve figured out that I’m your boss,” she said, then motioned to the other crew member. “And this is Ben Trin, who is second in command of the lab.” Trin came forward to shake Dahl’s hand. Dahl shook it. “And that’s all of us.”

“Except for Jenkins,” Mbeke said.

“Well, he won’t see Jenkins,” Collins said.

“He might,” Mbeke said.

“When was the last time you saw Jenkins?” Trin said to Mbeke.

“I thought I saw him once, but it turned out to be a yeti,” Cassaway said.

“Enough about Jenkins,” Collins said.

“Who’s Jenkins?” Dahl asked.

“He’s doing an independent project,” Collins said. “Very intensive. Forget it, you’ll never see him. Now…” She reached over to one of the tables in the lab, grabbed a tablet and fired it up. “You come to us with some very nice scores from the Academy, Mr. Dahl.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dahl said.

“Is Flaviu Antonescu still heading up the Xenobiology Department?” Collins asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dahl said.

“Please stop appending ‘ma’am’ to every sentence, Dahl, it sounds like you have a vocal tic.”

Dahl smiled again. “All right,” he said.

Collins nodded and looked back at the tablet. “I’m surprised Flaviu recommended you for the Intrepid.”

“He refused at first,” Dahl said, remembering the discussion with his Academy department head. “He wanted me to take a post at a research facility on Europa.”

“Why didn’t you take it?” Collins asked.

“I wanted to see the universe, not be down a sixty-kilometer ice tunnel, looking at Europan microbes.”

“You have something against Europan microbes?” Collins asked.

“I’m sure they’re very nice as microbes go,” Dahl said. “They deserve someone who really wants to study them.”

“You must have been pretty insistent to get Flaviu to change his mind,” Collins said.

“My scores were high enough to get Commander Q’eeng’s attention,” Dahl said. “And as luck would have it, a position opened up here.”

“It wasn’t luck,” Mbeke said.

“It was a Longranian Ice Shark,” Cassaway said.

“Which is the opposite of luck,” Mbeke said.

“A what?” Dahl asked.

“The crew member you’re replacing was Sid Black,” Trin said. “He was part of an away team to Longran Seven, which is an ice planet. While exploring an abandoned ice city, the away team was attacked by ice sharks. They carried Sid off. He wasn’t seen again.”

“His leg was,” Mbeke said. “The lower half, anyway.”

“Quiet, Fiona,” Collins said, irritated. She set down the tablet and looked back at Dahl. “You met Commander Q’eeng,” she said.

“I did,” Dahl said.

“Did he talk to you about away missions?” Collins asked.

“Yes,” Dahl said. “He asked me if I was interested in them.”

“What did you say?” Collins asked.

“I said I usually did lab work but I assumed I would participate on away missions as well,” Dahl said. “Why?”

“He’s on Q’eeng’s radar now,” Trin said to Collins.

Dahl looked at Trin and back at Collins. “Is there something I’m missing here, ma’am?” he asked.

“No,” Collins said, and glanced over at Trin. “I just prefer to have the option to indoctrinate my crew before Q’eeng gets his hands on them. That’s all.”

“Is there some philosophical disagreement there?” Dahl asked.

“It’s not important,” Collins said. “Don’t worry yourself about it. Now,” she said. “First things first.” She pointed over to the corner. “You get that workstation. Ben will issue you a work tablet and give you your orientation, and Jake and Fiona will catch you up on anything else you want to know. All you have to do is ask. Also, as the new guy you’re on coffee duty.”

“I was already told about that,” Dahl said.

“Good,” Collins said. “Because I could use a cup right about now. Ben, get him set up.”

“So, did you guys get asked about away teams?” Duvall asked, as she brought her mess tray to the table where Dahl and Hanson were already sitting.

“I did,” Hanson said.

“So did I,” Dahl said.

“Is it just me, or does everyone on this ship seem a little weird about them?” Duvall asked.

“Give me an example,” Dahl said.

“I mean that within five minutes of getting to my new post I heard three different stories of crew buying the farm on an away mission. Death by falling rock. Death by toxic atmosphere. Death by pulse gun vaporization.”

“Death by shuttle door malfunction,” Hanson said.

“Death by ice shark,” Dahl said.

“Death by what?” Duvall said, blinking. “What the hell is an ice shark?”

“You got me,” Dahl said. “I had no idea there was such a thing.”

“Is it a shark made of ice?” Hanson asked. “Or a shark that lives in ice?”

“It wasn’t specified at the time,” Dahl said, spearing a meat bit on his tray.

“I’m thinking you should have called bullshit on the ice shark story,” Duvall said.

“Even if the details are sketchy, it fits your larger point,” Dahl said. “People here have away missions on the brain.”

“It’s because someone always dies on them,” Hanson said.

Duvall arched an eyebrow at this. “What makes you say that, Jimmy?”

“Well, we’re all replacing former crew members,” Hanson said, and then pointed at Duvall. “What happened to the one you replaced. Transferred out?”

“No,” Duvall said. “He was the death by vaporization one.”

“And mine got sucked out of the shuttle,” Hanson said. “And Andy’s got eaten by a shark. Maybe. You have to admit there’s something going on there. I bet if we tracked down Finn and Hester, they’d tell us the same thing.”

“Speaking of which,” Dahl said, and motioned with his fork. Hanson and Duvall looked to where he pointed to see Hester standing by the end of the mess line, tray in hand, staring glumly around the mess hall.

“He’s not the world’s most cheerful person, is he,” Duvall said.

“Oh, he’s all right,” Hanson said, and then called to Hester. Hester jumped slightly at his name, seemed to consider whether he should join the three of them, and then appeared to resign himself to it, walked over and sat down. He began to pick at his food.

“So,” Duvall finally said, to Hester. “How’s your day?”

Hester shrugged and picked at his food some more, then finally grimaced and set down his fork. He looked around the table.

“What is it?” Duvall asked.

“Is it just me,” Hester said, “or is everyone on this ship monumentally fucked up about away missions?”