Character Perspective: Curtis

“Your next trial is going to be in thirteen days and is going to be a solo crew endeavor, meaning you will each be given your own simulation in which to complete the mission in which you will be scored. It will be a stealth based mission and your goal will be sneaking past a radar system guarding what appears to be an alien outpost,” Commander Allen explained, clicking through a short PowerPoint.

I sat back in the sole chair in the office that made up my specialty classroom and looked to my Commander with a brow raised as I had to stop myself from raising a hand. He had already chided me once for doing something as “ridiculous and pointless as requesting to speak in a one on one conversation” and I wasn’t a masochist.

“Two questions sir, first will this advanced notice be the standard for these trials going forward or is it supposed to be indicative of how our missions from ground command will come out in open space?” I asked, tapping a pen to paper.

The Commander raised a brow as he took in a long, slow sip of his coffee. For someone who constantly complained about the taste, he was always drinking it. “The fact that you had the intuition to ask that as a question should tell you what the answer is,” he said.

“That’s fair, but it’s always better to verify,” I shot back and scratched of a mark on my paper. “Okay, so then for my follow up. After the Parasitum in the last trial and now a stealth mission past alien radars, is this going to be standard as well? Are there always going to be some for of hostile alien presence?”

“Now that’s a fair and insightful question,” Commander Allen said and took a few steps over to his large chair and sitting down into it. “What would you or your bridge, or our fleet command for that matter, get out of you all running simulations of tracking orbital objects, delivering soil samples, or whatever other mundane thing you all could do in a fraction of the time of our coursework here?” He asked in return.

“But… hostile aliens? Isn’t that a little juvenile or game-like? Does that really offer the best training for our teams?” I asked and scratched the side of my head with the back of my pen.

“First Contact is closer than any of us truly understand. The Parasitum is a threat, but it is not just some virus that is driving our crews to madness. The remains of destroyed ships that have succumbed have proven that outside interference has caused these ships to turn,” he explained, typing onto his console as the PowerPoint disappeared and several pictures of destroyed ships floating through the vacuum of space.

“Hadn’t Dean Williams suggested we didn’t know all that much about the Parasitum?” I questioned.

“He did, and he’s not wrong, but it was a half truth for the purpose of providing initial information for you and your crews. Like the others who are going through the training, this is a part of yours. As the Captain, you will be privy to information that the rest of your crew does not need to be fully aware of. What you share is up to you and how much you trust your crew, but at the end of the day, you are the Captain. The responsibility of keeping that ship in Command for Star Launch is left squarely on your shoulders,” he said before taking another long, slow sip of his coffee, nearly emptying the mug before depositing it into a slot on his wall and hitting a touchpad nestled into surface next to it.

“That makes a certain amount of sense,” I nodded and wrote another note onto my pad. “Then what do we know, or… I guess more importantly, what is important for me to know.”

The Commander nodded approvingly as a stream of liquid shot down into his mug with a steady stream of steam floating off of it. “There is evidence of tampering on the equipment of ships that have succumbed to Parasitum. Things like singed consoles, cut wires, even what looked like drill plugs on the exterior hulls,” he explained clicking through a few pictures that were evidence of these various things.

“Which means that some sort of outside source must have infected the ships instead of it just being something they encountered on the surface of a planet,” I replied, biting at the back of the pen. “So it’s not so much a factor of what First Contact will be, it’s about why they are already acting hostile?” I asked.

“Maybe, we have no evidence outside of these pictures. For all we know they have cloaking and technology that dwarfs us. We may just be a pee-wee league trying to play in the pro bowl, but we know that in time we may encounter any sort of hostile force, and because of that we intend to commission crews that will act not only as the best explorers, but also those that are the most innovative and battle ready, because whether we are a military or not, if an alien race is out there and they threaten us, we have to be prepared to fight for our species,” he replied as he turned and looked up at the wreckage on the larger screen, his eyes softening ever so slightly.

“That is… a very heavy responsibility,” I said and closed my notepad, crossing a leg and leaning down.

“Is it going to make you want to go back to the ground?” the Commander asked as he reached for several artificial sugar packets and pulled the fresh cup of coffee onto his desk.

“No sir,” I answered truthfully, because at the end of the day, why would that send me back? It was always a possibility, regardless of how much the ground side advertising always talked of Star Launch like it was a cruise ship soaring through the vastness of space.

“Obviously not,” he replied and dropped a silver spoon into the mug. “So, shall we continue with the discussion on your next trial? I do understand if you need another moment to take in the ramifications of your position,” he added and it actually seemed sincere.

“No sir, I think I will be okay, at least for now, there’s always the possibility I’m just compartmentalizing until I can freak out about it in a less professional light, if that’s okay for me to admit,” I said with a half-hearted laugh.

“I’d think less of you if you didn’t freak out about it at some point. People who bottle up panic for too long are ticking time bombs so it’s better to let it out in more controlled, smaller spaces,” the Commander said with a laugh. “I personally recommend the Free Float Arena, as long as a class isn’t in session, especially after Dinner, it is open for practice or even just meditation,” he suggested.

“Wow… really? That just seems, kind of weird if I’m being honest, I guess I did expect this place to act much more like a military and using resources that way just seems, juvenile I suppose?” I replied.

“Mendez may be taking it to a bit of an extreme, but Star Launch does see the benefit of presenting this place as closer to a college than boot camp for those of you in training here and that goes in to the available amenities. There are numerous psychological benefits to treating you all as students rather than recruits that creates the most cohesive units, although you can’t fully take the structure out of it,” he explained and clicked a few keys as the large screen returned to the PowerPoint of our next trial.

“Then I suppose I shall have to reap the benefits of it being structured that way, there really was something calming about being in zero gravity,” I nodded, as I opened my notepad back up and looked through my notes. “Okay, now I do have a few questions about the trial that I’m assuming you can answer,” I said with a raised brow.

“Good, the next step is knowing the right questions to ask,” the Commander said and took another sip of his coffee, letting out a grunt of approval before looking back to me, “Let’s hear what you got.”