Capellan
Explorer
"Blast Off!" - Part 4
Nobody speaks for several moments after Gustav's announcement, then Commander Ivanov leans forward, steepling his hands,
"I want to be very clear about this, Doctor." He says, gravely, "So that everyone here is fully aware of what you're saying. The Q-Drive can literally transport you - in an instant - anywhere in the universe? There are no range limitations?"
"Ja. It can you to any place you vish to go." Gustav pauses, then mutters in a musing tone, "Perhaps even any time."
"Marvellous." Ivanov nods, "I just wanted to ensure that you are all clear on the capabilities of the drive. Now, as I said, we've installed the Q-Drive into the Pathfinder, a Scout-class vessel. We chose her for her speed, reliability, and range. Unfortunately, she's a little small, so you will be rather crowded together during the mission."
"What a shame." Captain Fury's contemplative smile, still firmly fixed on S'Ondra, makes it clear that he doesn't find this troubling at all.
"We've also had to remove the standard laser-defence grid, in order to accommodate the drive."
"What?" Fury receives this news with far less equanimity. "You did what? What will we do for weapons? Your actions are in direct violation of Space Force regulation two-one-seven, paragraph three, section -""
Ivanov gives his insubordinate subordinate an icy stare,
"No Space Force ship has fired a shot in anger in sixteen months, Captain." He interrupts, his tone brooking no argument, "In light of that, the Ministry approved a special dispensation to waive the regulation, for the purposes of this mission. There simply isn't room on the Pathfinder for any weapons."
"I bet there would be if we dumped some of his junk." Fury gives a disgruntled thrust of his jaw toward Doctor Gustav, who appears oblivious to the argument, and is busily scribbling on a creased handkerchief with a stub of pencil.
"As I sought," he mutters, "to miniaturise ze Particle Analyser, all one would need is to improve ze -"
"If I could have your attention." Ivanov raises his voice, glaring around the room. Fury subsides, and even the Doctor looks up, once S'Ondra nudges him in the ribs. "As I said: the laser-grid has been removed. The gravitic shields, on the other hand, are still installed. These will protect the vessel from any foreseeable danger, as well as providing you with artificial gravity throughout the mission."
"Are there any other equipment issues we should know about?" Fury asks, in terse tones.
"You should find that you have everything else you need, in abundance." Ivanov replies, "We've even included a full year's worth of food supplies, miniaturised and concentrated: far more than you could possibly require for an eight-day mission such as this." He glances at his watch, "Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I need to check on the arrangements for the press conference. I will return in a few minutes. I suggest you use the time to get better acquainted."
As Ivanov leaves, S'Ondra turns to Fury, acknowledging his presence for the very first time.
"We all already know each other." She informs him, frostily, "So I guess you're the only stranger here. I am Venusian Princess S'Ondra. You may address me as 'Princess'."
"Like to be in charge, eh?" Fury gives a suggestive grin, then thrusts out his hand, suddenly business-like, "Captain John Fury, Princess. Call me 'John'. I'm sure we'll get to know each other very well in the next week or so."
Doctor Gustav blinks owlishly,
"Was that an improper advance?" he 'whispers' to Archie, his voice actually loud enough to be heard throughout the room.
"Not quite, Doctor." The robot observes Fury with a remarkably evident distaste, given his complete inability to have a facial expression. "Though I would caution the Princess against touching his hand. Scans indicate there are over four-hundred different bacteria present on his palm, alone."
"Goot." The Doctor flips through a notebook, only half-listening to the conversation, "My vife left very strict instructions regarding ze improper advances. Keep your eyes open for zem, Archie."
"This is my guardian, Doctor Gustav, and his assistant, Archie." S'Ondra introduces the pair, though Fury seems oblivious to anyone but her. "The Doctor invented the Q-Drive, as you know, and Archie is indispensable to his work. As for myself, I am the official Venusian representative on the mission. Tell me, what was your function, again?"
"Well, Princess, I'll be the pilot." Fury smiles, "I'll take you for a ride you'll never forget."
S'Ondra ignores the double-entendre,
"A pilot, you say? I'd heard that these new Space Force ships are so nearly automated that they can be piloted by a trained monkey." Her tone suggests that she'd prefer the hypothetical simian be on the mission than Fury.
"I'm the best Space Force has to offer!"
"Really? I had no idea things were that bad. Budget cuts, again?"
Nobody speaks for several moments after Gustav's announcement, then Commander Ivanov leans forward, steepling his hands,
"I want to be very clear about this, Doctor." He says, gravely, "So that everyone here is fully aware of what you're saying. The Q-Drive can literally transport you - in an instant - anywhere in the universe? There are no range limitations?"
"Ja. It can you to any place you vish to go." Gustav pauses, then mutters in a musing tone, "Perhaps even any time."
"Marvellous." Ivanov nods, "I just wanted to ensure that you are all clear on the capabilities of the drive. Now, as I said, we've installed the Q-Drive into the Pathfinder, a Scout-class vessel. We chose her for her speed, reliability, and range. Unfortunately, she's a little small, so you will be rather crowded together during the mission."
"What a shame." Captain Fury's contemplative smile, still firmly fixed on S'Ondra, makes it clear that he doesn't find this troubling at all.
"We've also had to remove the standard laser-defence grid, in order to accommodate the drive."
"What?" Fury receives this news with far less equanimity. "You did what? What will we do for weapons? Your actions are in direct violation of Space Force regulation two-one-seven, paragraph three, section -""
Ivanov gives his insubordinate subordinate an icy stare,
"No Space Force ship has fired a shot in anger in sixteen months, Captain." He interrupts, his tone brooking no argument, "In light of that, the Ministry approved a special dispensation to waive the regulation, for the purposes of this mission. There simply isn't room on the Pathfinder for any weapons."
"I bet there would be if we dumped some of his junk." Fury gives a disgruntled thrust of his jaw toward Doctor Gustav, who appears oblivious to the argument, and is busily scribbling on a creased handkerchief with a stub of pencil.
"As I sought," he mutters, "to miniaturise ze Particle Analyser, all one would need is to improve ze -"
"If I could have your attention." Ivanov raises his voice, glaring around the room. Fury subsides, and even the Doctor looks up, once S'Ondra nudges him in the ribs. "As I said: the laser-grid has been removed. The gravitic shields, on the other hand, are still installed. These will protect the vessel from any foreseeable danger, as well as providing you with artificial gravity throughout the mission."
"Are there any other equipment issues we should know about?" Fury asks, in terse tones.
"You should find that you have everything else you need, in abundance." Ivanov replies, "We've even included a full year's worth of food supplies, miniaturised and concentrated: far more than you could possibly require for an eight-day mission such as this." He glances at his watch, "Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I need to check on the arrangements for the press conference. I will return in a few minutes. I suggest you use the time to get better acquainted."
As Ivanov leaves, S'Ondra turns to Fury, acknowledging his presence for the very first time.
"We all already know each other." She informs him, frostily, "So I guess you're the only stranger here. I am Venusian Princess S'Ondra. You may address me as 'Princess'."
"Like to be in charge, eh?" Fury gives a suggestive grin, then thrusts out his hand, suddenly business-like, "Captain John Fury, Princess. Call me 'John'. I'm sure we'll get to know each other very well in the next week or so."
Doctor Gustav blinks owlishly,
"Was that an improper advance?" he 'whispers' to Archie, his voice actually loud enough to be heard throughout the room.
"Not quite, Doctor." The robot observes Fury with a remarkably evident distaste, given his complete inability to have a facial expression. "Though I would caution the Princess against touching his hand. Scans indicate there are over four-hundred different bacteria present on his palm, alone."
"Goot." The Doctor flips through a notebook, only half-listening to the conversation, "My vife left very strict instructions regarding ze improper advances. Keep your eyes open for zem, Archie."
"This is my guardian, Doctor Gustav, and his assistant, Archie." S'Ondra introduces the pair, though Fury seems oblivious to anyone but her. "The Doctor invented the Q-Drive, as you know, and Archie is indispensable to his work. As for myself, I am the official Venusian representative on the mission. Tell me, what was your function, again?"
"Well, Princess, I'll be the pilot." Fury smiles, "I'll take you for a ride you'll never forget."
S'Ondra ignores the double-entendre,
"A pilot, you say? I'd heard that these new Space Force ships are so nearly automated that they can be piloted by a trained monkey." Her tone suggests that she'd prefer the hypothetical simian be on the mission than Fury.
"I'm the best Space Force has to offer!"
"Really? I had no idea things were that bad. Budget cuts, again?"