Dandelion Captain’s Suite

Captain Amida Torres

Amida was spending a lot of time entertaining and working with the councilors on the grounds that transparency was important right now. The crew’s general mood was still fragile and dismayed, and she judged that maintaining as open and close a relationship as possible between their representatives, DANI, and herself was in everyone’s best interests.

So she was having morning coffee with Councilors Jackson, Hayes, and Mayweather while they discussed a new and rather urgent development from the colony. A stolen U-Tool was something to take seriously.

Antony Mayweather had been in an especially subdued mood since his angry outburst during the council session after the attack and evacuation. Amida guessed he felt ashamed, and she was personally of a mind to forgive him. He’d just learned he wasn’t going to see his daughter again for several years, and a shock like that was sure to affect a person’s judgement to some degree.

What kind of a parent wouldn’t be distraught?

He’d had time to think and cool his head and adapt to the situation, though, and so as far as Amida was concerned, there was no reason to be cold toward him, and every reason to rebuild. Authors knew the crew needed plenty of rebuilding for now.

And he proved to be worth the invite.

“Why lock it?” he asked. “Obviously lock some of its functions, but he’s just taken the perfect spy tool back to his ship as a prize.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” DANI’s avatar nodded. “Tarrskyn has a shrewd mind; he’s been quite difficult to predict so far. I certainly didn’t assign a high probability to this scenario.”

“Well…maybe go further? There’s quite a bit of leverage a U-Tool could grant him if he was shrewd about it. Do we allow him to do that?”

Councilor Jackson frowned. “That’s…ethically troubling,” she ventured. “We’re already doing incalculable harm to their culture just by making first contact. Not that the Rangers had a choice in the matter, but shouldn’t we really try to minimize the effect we’re having?”

“Exactly my point. If we leave it activated at all, we’re giving him leverage. But if we deactivate it, how do we entice him to bring it to useful places?”

Hayes stroked his beard. “Leverage?”

“You must remember, this is…I hesitate to use the word ‘primitive,’ so shall we instead call them a less developed culture? Their speech is peppered with theistic references, and even their word for humans makes it clear they think of the Rangers as supernatural in some way.”

“I noticed that,” Amida said. “They have a myth about a race of short beings who make wondrous things, just like some human cultures did back on Earth long before the war. Normally I’d call that a coincidence, but…”

“In light of how something shot at us,” Mayweather said, “anything’s possible.”

“And so Tarrskyn has an Artifact of the Dwarves.” Hayes chuckled. “Very mythic.”

“Exactly,” DANI said.

Hayes sobered a little. “I see your point. Leverage. Suddenly he’s the man who stole a magic tool from the dwarves. That’s the kind of kudos a wily creature like him would use well.”

“So it’s a cost-benefit analysis,” Jackson said. She turned to DANI’s avatar. “That’s one for you, I think.”

“One other benefit to consider,” Amida interjected before DANI could reply, “is the possibility that we could use the U-Tool as influence over him.”

“You took the words out of my mouth,” DANI replied. His avatar was perched primly in a holographic armchair, hands resting lightly on a crossed knee. Disarmingly dapper and refined, as always. “Obviously for his own safety I will disarm the U-tool’s ability to assemble bladed shapes and its energy discharge functions, but the screen, communications systems, LITA…it may well be useful if he learns to speak our language. He should find it quite easy, in fact.”

“And the historic data? Our history? This ship?” Jackson asked.

“His people already know the world is round and the stars are distant,” DANI said. “They navigate their planet by such knowledge, after all. I have a couple of empty launches in orbit over the planet now to serve as communications satellites and surveyors, and they have quite a thriving civilization across the major western landmass. I doubt merely learning we came from another star system will cause them catastrophic harm.”

“They’re not advanced enough to cause catastrophic harm,” Hayes muttered.

“How come they never colonized the eastern continent?” Mayweather asked.

“Humans were largely able to spread across Earth so completely before recorded history because of an ice age that opened traversable land routes from Afro-Eurasia to the Americas in the north. The Pacific Islanders, it must be said, did colonize a swathe of ocean using water vessels considerably less developed than the likes of Wavebird and Syrlla’s Song, so I can’t explain why the Newhome natives haven’t done the same, but we can’t expect them to be completely like humans, can we? After all, Sjívull himself said the only reason he braved crossing the ocean was to pursue the launches, which he read as a good omen.”

“And Tarrskyn only braved the ocean because Shulft is practically a madman who wouldn’t let him abandon the chase,” Amida added.

“Practically a madman?” Jackson asked, setting her empty coffee cup down.

Amida gave a half-shrug as she refilled. “Have you read the profile DANI and our xenopsychologists are assembling on him? That man is violently angry basically all the time, has zero patience or calm, and worse. There’s something…desperate about him.”

“Desperate? What could make him that desperate?”

“That I don’t know,” DANI said apologetically. “He’s never spoken a word about himself where the drone could hear him. I believe Tarrskyn knows a little, but…”

“But Tarrskyn knows how to keep his cards close to his chest,” Amida finished.

“Indeed. All I can say is both Shulft and Tarrskyn are unpredictable for very different reasons. Tarrskyn because he’s well versed in guile and subtlety, and Shulft precisely because he is not. He might do anything at any time.”

“Why on Earth would a man like that be put in charge of a kidnap attempt?”

“Money talks, I bet.” DANI smiled slightly. “Or politics. He has a -sían surname, marking him as the heir of a noble family. Without infiltrating a spy drone into his Lord Storm-Rider’s hall, I can’t know all the details.”

“Is that something you’re planning to do?” Jackson asked.

“For the purposes of monitoring their reaction to our Rangers, yes. In time I hope to have a bug in every court, palace, hall, and castle on the planet. This is a delicate situation, Councilor. We cannot possibly be over-informed…”

“Being under-informed on the other hand could get our kids killed,” Mayweather concluded morosely. “Especially if there are more like this Shulft character around.”

“Indeed. Sjívull’s youth and curiosity contributed greatly to an easy first contact, and Drynllaf has the kind of level head I would value highly among my own engineers. Had they encountered Tarrskyn and Shulft first…things may have turned out rather differently. I’m glad Troop Seven-three-two made the friendships they did.”

“Sounds like you’re changing your tune on Miss Houston’s decision to strike an alliance,” Amida teased him. DANI shook his avatar’s head.

“I still believe the safest approach would be neutrality and isolation. I do not, however, believe it is safely an option in the current possibility space. Nonetheless, her decision will almost certainly have enraged Shulft.”

“All the more reason to keep that U-Tool active and listen in,” Hayes concluded.

“Can’t be over-informed,” Mayweather agreed, echoing DANI’s earlier sentiment. “And if he does do something rash, I want the troop to have plenty of forewarning.”

“Agreed.” Jackson nodded. Hayes bobbed his head, too, and Amida echoed them.

“Very well. DANI, I think we have a decision,” she said.

“Indeed. I will lock out the U-Tool’s most hazardous functions but leave it sufficiently active and capable to remain valuable and of interest.”

“And what advice should we give the troop on what to do when Shulft’s patience does run out?” Hayes asked.

“The only sensible thing to say: be prepared.”

Mayweather sighed heavily. “Advice like that may be the best we can give, but it’s hardly satisfying,” he grumbled. “Our hands-off approach is…difficult for a lot of parents out there. I’ve talked with several families, and there’s a prevailing attitude that we’re not giving the Rangers as much support as we could be.”

“Do you agree?” Amida asked.

“No, on balance I don’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d give up a couple of limbs if it meant I could help keep Arianna safe, but…I understand why we aren’t. Still, right or wrong, that’s how folks feel right now.”

DANI nodded. “Human systems often feel an overwhelming urge to action in the face of crisis, even if inaction is the wiser choice.”

“That’s hardly surprising of a crew full of people who expected to be colonists and trained their whole lives for it,” Jackson observed. “Most of the worried parents were expecting to be down there taking on these challenges themselves.”

“So now the urge is to back-seat drive,” Mayweather finished.

“Yes, and I fear that urge will do more harm than good.”

“I don’t think there’s any argument about that in this room,” Hayes said evenly. “How have you been handling those parents so far, Antony?”

Mayweather shrugged. “Sympathy. I’m in the same boat, after all. And then we talk about how letting go and stepping out of your child’s life is all part of being a parent, even if we’ve all had to do it earlier and more abruptly than I would have liked.”

Jackson nodded sadly. “I know a documentary maker. Maybe he can help us get that message out there. We could provide footage from planetside showing how well they’re doing, DANI?”

“Absolutely. I already have an extensive archive, and I can think of several Rangers who would love to be involved in such a project.” DANI looked almost enthused.

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Amida said. She stood up. “In any case, we all have our duties to attend to. I should go and check in with the anthropologists. They’ve gotten used to seeing me.”

“And we have a budget committee meeting,” Hayes agreed. He rose, too, and shook Amida’s hand. “Thank you for having us, Captain.”

After Mayweather and Jackson had made their farewells and the three left, Amida cleaned up after them, then decided the time had come to clean up herself, get dressed, and face a proper day of work in the public eye.

“Makes me wonder…” she said aloud as she headed for her en-suite bathroom.

DANI had dissipated his avatar, but as always, he was listening. “Wonder what?”

“About the shot that came our way. Do you suppose it was meant to scare us off?”

“There are many possible explanations. I do believe that to be the most probable explanation, however—a warning shot across our bow.”

“Except it would have hit us if we hadn’t taken evasive action,” she observed, stuffing her casual outfit into the laundry hamper. DANI couldn’t see into private areas like bathrooms, but he could still hear and reply.

“A warning shot with intent, then. I do not know, Captain. We are dealing with an alien intellect here, and it would not be appropriate to assume they will behave in a human way. But I can state with certainty that anything capable of firing a dumb, unguided projectile so accurately could certainly have built a guided munition instead that we could never have evaded no matter what we did.”

Amida stuck her head under the beautifully warm water to rinse her hair. “In other words, the fact that we could dodge is telling in its own right.”

“Precisely.”

“That implies something out there knows about and is protecting the Homers.”

“Homers, Captain?” DANI sounded…sniffy.

“Yeah, you know! Newhomers. Homers. I know you’ve heard that nickname,” Amida replied, grinning to herself as she turned the temperature up a couple of degrees and basked in it.

“I have, yes. It seems…frivolous. Cartoonish.”

“Really? And here I thought you of all people would make the classic Greek connection. The Iliad, the Odyssey…seems mythically appropriate to me.”

DANI issued a humorless chuckle, then added a mock clearing of his throat before quoting the opening lines of the Iliad in a dramatic voice.

“Sing, O Goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures…”

He finished his bit of theatre with a harrumph. “And just who are the Achaeans in our scenario? Which brave souls will go scurrying down to Hades? The Iliad describes a bloody and vain war, Captain, and the Odyssey is the tale of a man cursed by the gods themselves to be beset by troubles as he returned home from that war. Yes, you’re right, that’s a far better association…”

“You know, you hardly ever resort to sarcasm, but when you do, you go for the throat…” Amida shook her head to herself, though she was smiling in faint disbelief. “But you know the nickname already stuck.”

DANI sighed extravagantly. “Unfortunately, yes…”

“I should probably read Homer again,” Amida mused. “Order a physical copy for me, would you?”

“Done.”

“And…has Miss Houston read them?”

“Not yet. I’ll make that recommendation at an appropriate time.”

Amida nodded and shut off the shower. She wandered back through her apartment, toweling herself dry as she cleaned up the coffee cups, books, and other clutter.

“So. We’re in a war where the other side has fired exactly two shots, and we know nothing about them,” she mused once the cleaning was done.

“Yes. Something is out there, Captain. We are in no way equipped to fight it, and we don’t know what it wants or why it precipitated the war on Earth. We do not know whether its shot was intended to protect the Newhome natives and our evacuation onto the planet was unexpected and unintended, or whether we have in fact done exactly what it wanted.”

“That doesn’t sound like a war to me,” Amida replied as she put on fresh clothes.

DANI sounded grim. “No,” he agreed. “And I have devoted as much of my resources to the situation as I can. Until I have new data, I can offer no guidance beyond what I already have.”

Amida nodded. There didn’t seem to be much more to be said about that for now. She gave her hair the attention it needed—not much, she wore it short precisely because she didn’t need the hassle of maintaining it in her busy life—put on her jacket, and inspected herself in the mirror.

She looked…appropriate. The figure of a captain: sharp, composed, and informed. Somebody to steer their ship through troubled waters. Every ship needed one.

Hopefully, so far, she was doing the right things. She honestly didn’t know. But right now, the crew couldn’t afford to see her doubts. They needed their captain, and Amida Torres was merely the woman filling that role. Her personal concerns weren’t for the public to see; the captain didn’t have those.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and went to work.