February 9th, 8253

You wait in the outer office of Rear Admiral (Lower half) Aquila Barantyn the 2nd, commanding officer, Surveyor's Corps, Celesmore detachment with mild anxiety. It's the first time that you have been summoned to this office and the additional note to wear your dress uniform again has questions swirling in the back of your mind. The intercom buzzes on the appointed hour and you rise to enter as the door swings open.

“Come on in and let's be done with this Captain Warde.”

“Yes Sir.”

You walk through the door, beret in hand as protocol dictates in formal settings in the presence of a superior officer. The distinct lack of a chair to sit in speaks of the displeasure that the Rear Admiral is (no so) subtly displaying towards you. You come to attention two steps from his desk and await whatever fresh insanity is about to spring forth.

“Oh good, so you do know your protocol. Very well, that will make this easier.”

You raise an eyebrow and maintain your silence as the rear admiral shuffles papers aide and pulls out a gold cornered envelope.

“As you should know the Crown may choose to delegate certain functions in the interests and to fit the exigencies of the services. As it has chosen to do so in this instance.”

He folds open the gold cornered envelope, extracts a sheet of parchment, clears his throat and begins to read aloud.

“'The Crown of the Star Empire hereby appoints one Captain Lawrence Warde of His Majesties' Surveyor's Corps the title of Baron Gayle in recognition for extraordinary services rendered. Signed and sealed this day the first of February of they year eight thousand two hundred and fifty three by..' yadda yadda yadda.” He folds the paper up, puts it in back in the envelope and places it on the edge of the desk. You pick it up, briefly flick open the envelope to read the page contained within, then fold it shut and tuck it into one of the few pockets on your uniform.

“I honestly don't know what so say Sir, this is an honor I did not expect.”

“Nor did I Lord Gayle, nor did I. And yet everything is now official. I presume you know the regulations as to ranks of nobility and the command structure of the armed services of The Crown?”

“Yes Sir, at least in general. 'Rank in the chain of command supersedes social titles or rank' if I recall the primer summary correctly.”

“Correct. As said regulations now apply to you I suggest you read up on them in greater detail.”

“Of course Sir.”

“Additionally I believe that you will find various forms and paperwork waiting for you on your tablet after this meeting. Ministry of Heraldry stuff that I had my secretary set for a timed release to you so as not to spoil my little surprise. I will admit that I didn't expect much of a gutter born Captain but you've managed to kick over more then a few stones and come out both clear of wrongdoing and in the right each time. Which makes it even more annoying that I have to break up your crew and take away your ship.”

“Sir?”

“The Navy proper has 'requested' the Night Horse back in full in order to complete the evaluation of her drive systems on behalf of the Ministry of Interstellar Diplomacy and Communications. I suspect that they intend to convert it into the primary diplomatic courtier ship between the Star Empire and the Arlazu Assembled Accord in an attempt to capitalize on it's fame.”

“In which case I wish them the best of luck sir. I doubt that lordly diplomats will take well to 'minimalist' quarters.”

“Hah! Your crew are also receiving a round of promotions, that directive came though in it's own Crown-marked envelope, and I'd like your opinion on what to do with them all. Let's start with CWO Fish.”

“Chief Warrant Officer Molly Hayden Fish served well and ably in her role as acting head of Navigation. I'd recommend her to officer's school and a commission in that career track. If the Hayden project permits and she accepts of course. I'd peg her as a typical mustang, more concerned with doing her job and doing it right then rank or career, so she may well reject the offer.”

“Noted. You do realize that, should she prove effectively immortal in her new body, that she would eventually rise to the heights of command based on raw length of service regardless of ability should she accept a command?”

“I doubt she is as immortal as you may fear Sir. While her body is more durable, and possibly replaceable, then yours or mine her mind still has limitations akin to that of an organic mind. The bi-annual medical checks would eventually down check her out of active service if the Hayden project didn't cap her rank first. And that also assumes she doesn't fall into the trap that some mustangs hit and mouth off to or about the wrong Lord and kneecap her own progress.”

“You would expect her to do that?”

“Honestly? No sir. I partially expect her to reject the offer of a commission out of hand, which will seal that avenue of her career off for good. If she does accept the commission then she'll figure out exactly what she can say to whom and about what in very short order.”

“Also noted. Moving on, what about Midshipman Huckle?”

“Midshipman Douglass Huckle has saved both the Night Horse and all aboard her on multiple occasions. In addition to the Engineering slot I also handed him the Repair slot and he performed admirably in both. He's a bit rough and ready around then edges from his time as a Royal Marine grunt, but that will smooth out somewhat with experience and time. I would put him into his pick of the Engineering or Repair tracks, with a noted proficiency and affinity for working with and on automatons. Were this the Navy, I'd worry about they yard dogs stealing him away, but I don't think the Surveyor's Corps has that same issue.”

“That tracks with my assessment of his reports too. Three warp jump screen failures, all recovered from successfully in time to save the ship, that takes some skill. Do you think that his cybernetics will prove a factor?”

“In terms of ability? Not at all. In terms of his ability to interact with his crew mates? Possibly. So far I have only seen him operating in a very small team environment. As part of a larger crew with a body purist mixed in? I could see sparks flying. I can also see Midshipman Huckle taking precisely zero shit and handling the situation professionally.”

“Professionally as in...?”

“As in he would behave professionally and expect the same in return.”

“Noted. And lastly, what about Midshipman Engel?”

“Midshipman Bryn Engel is something of a supply wizard, but in desperate need of more experience. Even after three deployments he still has flashes of wet behind the ears by the book procedure following. He's getting over that habit, and rapidly at that, but I think a tenure in an established supply department with senior non commissioned officers will polish off the rough edges nicely.”

“Is he a scrounger?”

“No more than any supply officer worth their salt Sir. The first few days aboard the Night Horse, before we departed on our first deployment, he went though the whole ship and picked out the few things that the Night Horse really needed. We had drawn only MREVs for food so he arranged for a synthesizer and the nutrient paste to feed it. Midshipman Huckle, being void born, was short on heavy lifting equipment. It wasn't anything that the automatons couldn't handle, but Midshipman Engel found a spare light exo suit that might be available and with my permission arranged for its transfer aboard. Things of that nature.”

“How far over 'establishment' were you on consumables?”

“Three to five percent across the board on departure for a deployment, with the exception of pressure stored consumables like hydrogen, oxygen, and water.”

“That much?”

“Considering the volume of consumables the Night Horse draws, or drew now I suppose, that's not actually all that much. A single extra pallet of spare parts could be a full percentage and a full cargo container of whatever would have put us at a hundred and fifty to two hundred percent of establishment depending on exactly what it contained.”

“Noted. And that brings us back around to you Captain. The Navy is promising a ship to replace the Night Horse and that ship is going to become your ship. What kind of ship would you like?”

“What I'd like and what I'm likely to get are quite different things aren't they Sir?”

“Indeed, indeed. Still, what would you ask for?”

“If I had my pick? A Draco class clipper, Ideally one of the Cassiopeia sub-class. I'd settle for a Timber Snake though.”

“Not something heavier?”

“We're scouts sir, not raiders or proper combatants. For that role I'll take speed and maneuverability over heavy firepower or heavy armor. If I had turned up in the Gayle system in a Spatha or Zweihander class ship I'm fairly sure the arlazu would have seen me as much more of an invasion threat and attacked. I'd have stood a better change of getting out alive if they did attack, but I prefer not having to fight if I don't need to.”

“There is that indeed. And more speed means more systems surveyed in a shorter time span too. Which means more credits for your pockets.”

“I think my crew would care fare more about the credits than I Sir. Even without any 'lands' assigned to go with my new title I still have all of that old prize money and the dividends from investing it wisely.”

“Indeed? I hadn't considered that to be honest. One last thing. How do you think the all automaton crew worked for you?”

“Honestly Sir? I consider it of very dubious value aboard ships operating at or beyond the frontiers of the Star Empire.”

“Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“Certainly Sir. There are many things to recommend an all automaton crew. No need to feed them, no morale issues, they can work much longer shifts, they can work in all gravity and most atmospheric conditions without issue. They have inhuman precision by definition and can be relied upon to not miss a step in a set of instructions, skip tedious work, or slack off. However they have zero initiative. Even the advanced egghead models will only initiate basic damage control actions. Any 'anomaly' outside of their instruction set and they just sit there until someone else comes by and gives them explicit instructions. This can be anything from a ruptured deck plate to warp jump screen generator failure to plasma drive overload.”

“So you are not in favor of having automatons as crew?”

“Not so Sir, just not as the near totality of the crew of a ship. Let's take the Night Horse as an example ship. Two hundred and thirty two crew needed, of which two hundred and twenty enlisted and non commissioned slots were filled by automatons. I'd have happily traded away forty automatons for human 'section leads' to have more imitative on tap to keep things moving along and have an extra four eggheads in reserve against casualties or breakdowns. Every time the Night Horse took a hit we lost at least one egghead because they had to be spread all over the ship to manage things.”

“I see your point. And now that I think on it it makes quite a bit of sense. Would you be averse to testing that theory out aboard your next ship? As you may have guessed, the Surveyor's Corps has something of a perpetual manning issue.”

“Get me a Cassiopeia class ship and I'd happily test that out for you Sir.”