Beyond The Next Frontier [Kerbal Space Program/SPOILER]
Posted: 2015-02-12 09:44am
Continuation of this fic. It is very, very important that you read that one first or else it'll be like watching the Sixth Sense with foreknowledge of the big twist. Don't say I didn't warn you!
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TAB"Ah, Malcolm Reynolds! Just the man I was looking for!"
TAB"Well, that's not at all ominous."
TABBadger affected a hurt look. "Oh, come now, Captain. Haven't we worked together often enough to establish a certain measure of trust?"
TABMal raised his eyes heavenwards, but conceded reluctantly that the man sort of had a point. Badger didn't possess much in the way of moral scruples, but he was very attached to his money, his reputation and above all his life. Fixers who snitched on contractors were apt to very quickly lose hold of all three. "So what's the job?"
TAB"Mixed cargo. Big load of terraforming equipment, secondhand computers and college textbooks, among other things."
TAB"Other things being?"
TAB"Well..." Badger demurred.
TAB"C'mon now, Badger. Haven't we worked together often enough to establish a certain measure of trust?" Mal echoed mockingly.
TAB"Hah! Touche, Mal. Truth is I don't know myself; most of it came to me in sealed containers, and the client indicated they'd be a bit peeved if it didn't arrive in the same state. For the fees they were offering I wasn't inclined to argue the toss."
TAB"Speaking of fees..."
TABBadger named a figure that convinced Mal not to argue the toss either. "Half in advance, half on arrival," he added.
TAB"Alright. Where's it headed?"
TAB"Jessenstein Base. Where else?"
* * *
TAB"Mr President, this is Colonel Kurt Kerjel from Air Force Information Warfare Command. He's our military liaison to the KSA's research and development wing and resident human expert."
TABThe President's smile was a little pained. Two years earlier this kid would have been considered a little young to be sporting a Captain's single gold bar on his epaulettes, much less four. The joys of large-scale mobilisation from a virtual standing start. "Colonel."
TAB"Good afternoon, Mr President, Mr Secretary. May I offer you some refreshments, or shall we get straight down to business?"
TABThe President laughed bitterly. "Putting off hearing bad news never helps, Colonel. Let's get to it."
TAB"Very well, sir." Kurt sighed. "Based on the tests that we've been running on hull materials salvaged from the wreck of the IAV Lafayette, the only weapon we have that can reliably mission-kill an Alliance warship is a nuclear warhead."
TAB"Well, shit," the President replied.
TAB"That's about what I said when I got the results, sir."
TAB"Correct me if I'm wrong, Colonel," the Secretary of Defence added, "but didn't Starfarer 1 blow the Lafayette clean in two with one railgun shell?"
TAB"Yes, Mr Secretary, we did," Kurt replied, with the air of a man who's getting very tired of answering this particular question. "After several missiles launched from the Fredricksson had already hit her, on top of extensive and poorly-repaired battle damage suffered when she was captured by the Reavers. If Bill had been firing on a Longbow-class warship in proper repair, a standard railgun shell wouldn't have done much more than mess up the paint. Hyper-velocity kinetic rounds would be more effective, but thanks to armour technology involving shear thickening, non-Newtonian fluids -the technical details of which are far beyond my understanding- it'd take at least two or three hits in the same spot to breach the internal compartments. We also believe the Alliance uses delayed-action warheads in their missiles, but how they get a useful explosive payload to survive a hypervelocity impact is a total mystery.
TAB"That by itself would not be an insurmountable problem, except that Alliance directed-energy weapons technology is decades ahead of ours. From the admittedly limited data we have on their pojnt-defence systems, we'll be doing well if we can ram through one missile in forty."
TAB"So we need nukes, and lots of them." The President winced. "Lemrick, what's our current worldwide production capacity for weapons-grade fissile material?"
TAB"A couple of hundred kilograms a year, sir. We could probably ramp it up to half a ton if we only needed small warheads, but that would mean taking a hit on reactor-grade fissile materials production."
TAB"Fortunately, we do. For what the backroom boys have in mind we'd only need between ten and fifteen kilotons, though that's offset some by the need for a specialist warhead design."
TAB"That'd give us about five to seven hundred warheads annually, Mr President. At least as long as we could keep the necessary uranium ore coming in."
TAB"And tungsten," Kurt added. "Lots and lots of tungsten. Are either of you gentlemen familiar with the theoretical concept of nuclear-pulse propulsion?"
TAB"Propelling a spaceship with the blast-wave of a nuclear detonation, yes," Lemrick replied. "Something we looked into during the Kerm Grove Crisis but gave up on because there was no way to build a pusher-plate in orbit."
TAB"And launching a spacecraft by letting off nukes in our own biosphere as a response to a shortage of good land to plant Kerm seeds was considered a little counter-productive," Kurt agreed. "But before the KSA abandoned the concept as unworkable, they did figure out a method of focusing a higher percentage of the energy from the warhead in a specific direction. A cone-shaped firing chamber is used to focus the release of thermal, gamma and other radiation into a large mass of tungsten pellets, which then basically act like the ball-bearings in a Claymore mine*: That's a gross over-simplification of the physics, but you get the idea. It's only maybe twenty-five to thirty percent efficient, and we estimate it'll have to detonate within a hundred metres of the target to be effective against Alliance armour, but we'd only have to get lucky once."
TAB"Well, that's something," the President allowed. "But it raises questions of escalation. If we deploy nuclear weapons in combat against Alliance warships, are they going to take that as a license to start deploying other weapons of mass destruction?"
TAB"I really can't say for sure, Mr President. I don't think it's likely, but I can't rule it out. A lot would depend on who was calling the shots in Parliament; it's only a few tub-thumping hotheads who are actively looking for an excuse to go hogwild with the orbital bombardment, but there's a lot of confused and nervous voters out there. And Blue Sun... Well, at this point we may have to consider them an independent power bloc within the Zyrix system. And a hostile one."
TAB"To us, or to the Alliance?"
TAB"Yes."
TABThe President pinched the bridge of his nose and considered the pros and cons of taking up alcoholism as a hobby. "Colonel... Do you have any unambiguously, caveat-free good news for me, or should I just pack up my belongings and my mistress and go Kermol in the remotest rural district I can find now?"
TAB"As a matter of fact, Mr President, I do," Kurt replied, wondering idly if the President was joking about the mistress before deciding he'd rather not know. "Mr Lemrick's colleagues in the Foreign Ministry have managed to lay hold of pretty much every piece of publicly available information on how the Alliance Navy's hull armour is manufactured. Some of the materials-science involved is way ahead of ours, but we're confident that we'll have at least the theoretical knowledge to manufacture comparable armour ourselves in a couple of years. Less if our academic head-hunting endeavours bear fruit. Mass production is liable to take much longer unless we can obtain the necessary industrial plant from Alliance sources, but it's a start."
TAB"Indeed it is."
TAB"Colonel," Lemrick added, "you said we only had one weapon that could kill an Alliance warship. Aren't you forgetting the 'wake', as I believe it's been nicknamed, of the Alkerbierre Drive? You know, the high-energy particle wave that the civilians accidentally blew up Eeloo with?"
TAB"I believe my exact words were 'reliably kill an Alliance warship', Mr Secretary. The Drive's wake isn't particularly useful against anything in a less predictable orbit than a planet; the spherical error probability of the exit point is huge, aiming would be dependent on a spotter vessel with a QE comms module being in visual range of the target, and in any case the blast radius is so large that we'd be very unlikely to get a clear shot outside of interstellar space. And that's before we get into the aforementioned escalation issue, because while the Alliance civilian leadership probably won't take drastic action in response to tactical nukes being used in a ship-to-ship engagement, I can just about guarantee they will if we go after them with fleet-killing strategic arms. After all, how would we react if they did it to us?"
TABLemrick nodded. "I see what you mean. With your permission, Mr President, I'll ask the Laws of War Committee to add weaponised Alkerbierre Drive wakes to the no-first-use list. It might pour some oil on troubled waters in the Zyrix system, and domestically for that matter."
TABThe President nodded. "See to it. Colonel, my thanks for your input. Now, if it won't disrupt your team's work excessively, I'd like to take a close look at the hulk of that Alliance frigate."
TAB"That can certainly be arranged, sir. Are you EVA-certified with a standard pressure-suit?"
* * *
TAB"Werner. You're looking..." Gene fumbled for a tactful word for it.
TAB"Bloody awful, I know. That's why I wanted to talk to you." Werner sat back down and took a sip of coffee. "I suppose my darling housekeeper gave you an earful about me?"
TAB"I know it... isn't looking good."
TAB"Hah! That's one way of putting it. Look, I'm not going to dance around the issue: I'm dying, Gene. The cancer might have been treatable if I were twenty years younger, but at my time of life radiation therapy would do more harm than good. I have maybe another year of relative good health, then the symptoms are going to stop being manageable with tablets and I'll need intravenous painkillers. After that point it'll be a couple of months, at the most."
TAB"Oh, Great Kerm," Gene murmured. "I'm... I'm sorry, Wehrner."
TABHe gestured dismissively. "Ah, it had to happen sometime. I'm old and tired enough that the prospect isn't all that frightening anymore, to tell you the truth; I imagine it'll be a lot like going to bed after a very long and busy day. And it's not like I have much left that needs doing now, is it?" He gestured at the big picture window, and the dusty-brown landscape of Duna on the other side of the heavily reinforced glass. "We're a full-blown spacefaring civilisation, Gene, and you and I helped make it all happen. I have the rare privilege of getting to die content in the knowledge of a job well done."
TAB"I... Yeah, I guess so." Gene sighed. "Is there anything I can do?"
TAB"There just might be. I'd like to go to the Zyrix system before I die; not just Jessenstein Base, but one of the planets or moons. I want to see the place, get to know the people and the culture a little bit."
TAB"I'll make it happen. Hanfrod owes me that much, given I've been officially retired almost two years and he still calls me three times a week. You might have to give some speeches and attend the odd university dinner though."
TAB"Hah! I wonder if theirs are as ghastly as ours. Hmmm... Perhaps I'll write a paper comparing human and Kerbal academic politics and see if I can't get into one of the big anthropology journals. That ought to give certain distinguished individuals from my alma mater something to think about!" Werner chuckled. "Say, on the subject of the Zyrix system, how's Bob these days?"
* * *
TABAs it happened, Bob Kerman was currently quite vexed. "What do you mean you can't find them?" he fumed. "You've got his full name and date of birth, you've got his last known address and you've even got his gorram DNA profile! How can this kid's parents just vanish?"
TABThe social worker took several deep, calming breaths. "Sir, I appreciate you aren't used to the scale of our jurisdiction-"
TAB"Don't you patronise me, lady, I know exactly how big this solar system is; I spent weeks mapping it by telescope. Now did Christopher Mullin's parents or did Christopher Mullin's parents not have social security numbers, or whatever you call them here?"
TAB"Yes, sir."
TAB"Then it stands to reason that unless they've retreated to some shack in the pi gu end of nowhere to raise marijuana, they must at some point have held a job and paid taxes, does it not?"
TAB"Yes, sir-"
TAB"Well then it might behoove you to place a telephone to the Alliance Revenue Service and get them to go through the tax records!"
TAB"We did, sir. The last confirmed place of employment for Christopher's father was a small financial services firm on Persephone, two years ago. I tried calling that firm, but they've folded; I was able to trace the owner, but all he could tell me was that Mullin planned to take his severance pay and head for one of the border moons. We know even less about his mother; after they divorced she had some kind of breakdown and went totally off the grid."
TABBob sagged in his seat. "Fan-fardling-tastic," he grumbled. "I'm sorry I lost my temper."
TAB"It's alright, sir. I'm frustrated by this too. Anyway... I know this isn't an easy subject, but we do need to talk about Christopher's living arrangements."
TAB"You have a suitable foster placement?"
TAB"Not exactly..."
TAB"Group home?"
TAB"Yes, sir."
TAB"Suitable for a child with serious emotional issues and a history of physical and psychological abuse?"
TAB"Um..."
TAB"And with security arrangements adequate to protect a child who is also a material witness in criminal proceedings against an organisation with a demonstrated willingness to use deadly force against federal agents?"
TABThe social worker sighed. "To be perfectly candid, sir, I doubt it. But it's all we have available."
TAB"Then I think you'd better talk to your opposite number from my government when he arrives on the next ship out of Kerbin; it's due in a week today. I'll have him call you."
TAB"Sir, I would remind you that Christopher Mullin is an Alliance citizen-"
TAB"And I would remind you that K-78356-Jessenstein and all its permanent orbital installations are the sovereign territory of the Kerbin federation of nations, by right of first verified landing as enshrined in Alliance law, and Christopher has been afforded the status of a political refugee. So don't get any bright ideas about showing up with some Federal Marshals to take him into state custody by force, because there's two armed picket ships and a platoon of Espatiers** who'll take grave exception to that even before the embassy weighs in."
TAB"Very well, sir." The woman sighed heavily. "I hope you appreciate that myself and the organisation I represent only want to do right by this child."
TAB"Then where the hell was your organisation when Blue Sun got their hands on him?" Bob retorted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have private tutors to interview."
TABThe best thing about Eavesdown Docks, in Bob's considered opinion, was the unspoken mutual agreement among the local populace to never ask inconvenient questions about things that didn't concern them. Human or Kerbal, you could rest assured that everyone you met there would be pointedly minding their own business at all times. After all, the saying "What goes around comes around" was another thing the two races had in common, and if you had nothing to fear from the idle curiosity of a passing stranger then you'd be conducting your business somewhere with better property values.
TABThe second best thing about Eavesdown Docks was the bar that an enterprising young kerman couple had opened to cater to the small but growing number of Kerbal ship's crews travelling between Persephone and Jessenstein Base. Bob was developing a deep appreciation for the local cuisine now he'd acclimatised to the point where he only needed antacids when he let Chris pick the pizza toppings, but he did appreciate the occasional taste of home, and the Starfarer Bar & Grill did some of the best homemade djan chips he'd ever tasted.
TABThe early-afternoon crowd was heavy for a weekday. Half a dozen Kerbals in expensive business-casual were clustered round a table having a working lunch; Bob figured them for either consulate staff or one of the trade delegations here for a business conference. A more casually dressed Kerbal male was sharing a private booth with a human woman who might or might not be his girlfriend, while at the far end of the bar a cheerfully rowdy group of bohemian types were loudly celebrating someone's birthday with a little exotic alien cuisine and a lot of exotic alien booze.
TABAnd of course there was Jeb, propping up the bar in his usual spot with a glass of beer and a bowl of the establishment's famous djans covered with local cheese and hot peppers, a serving style that was becoming extremely popular. "Hey, Bobcat!" he called out. "Look! They've got RT-5 in here now!"
TAB"That's handy. I could really use one." Bob parked himself on a bar stool next to Jeb.
TAB"Hah. I was gonna ask how your meeting went..."
TAB"Not well." Bob briefly outlined the discussion he'd had with the social worker. "I feel kind of bad for taking it out on her like that," he admitted. "But damn it all, Jeb, why does this have to be so hard? I get that neither of them were in a position to take care of a kid after their marriage broke up, but you'd think they'd want to know he was okay. Anyway, it looks like I'll need to hire a private investigator."
TAB"Why waste your money? If they can't be bothered to leave a forwarding address so that they could keep in touch with their only son, then I say fuck them and the horse they rode in on, as the local saying goes."
TAB"Because the least I can do for Christopher is find out whether they're alive or dead, particularly his mother; from what I can gather she wasn't in the best of mental health. Besides, if I can bribe or cajole them into signing certain official paperwork then I won't have Alliance Social Services -and boy oh boy is that acronym fitting in English- causing me quite so many legal headaches."
TAB"You're serious about the adoption thing, then."
TAB"Of course I'm serious about it, Jeb! I saw everything that kid went through, I can't turn my back on him now and still be able to look at myself in the mirror."
TAB"I know, I know. It's just that Jessenstein Base wouldn't be my first choice for a place to raise a kid."
TAB"Eh, it's only temporary," Bob replied. "My next mandatory physical's in a few months, and it's probably going to be the big one. And I've been thinking it might be getting to that time anyhow. After all, how do we top First Contact?"
TAB"I know how you feel. Been thinking the same thing, to be honest. I mean, I spent a year's pay on my boat; it'd be a damn shame if I never got any use out of her because I stayed in harness 'til I wound up in a wheelchair smelling of piss."
TAB"I'll drink to that," Bob agreed.
TABAnd they did drink to it. And to several other things they thought up afterwards, until it got to the point where the proprietor tactfully suggested they might want to quit while they were ahead.
TAB"How many times, Cap'n? How many times have I warned you that gorram compression coil was on its way out? 'cause I lost count after the first hundred or so."
TAB"Yeah, yeah, alright. How long is it gonna take to replace?"
TAB"That's the thing, Cap'n! It's not just the compression coil we gotta replace now, I gotta fix everything that got trashed when it let go. And that's gonna take me all weekend 'less I pull an all-nighter, which I ain't gonna 'cause this is your own dumb fault!" Kaylee spun on her heel and stalked back into the ship.
TAB"Hey! Don't you walk away from- Kaylee!"
TAB"She's right, you know," Zoe remarked, carefully checking a large sealed crate of something heavy was secure. "She's been warning you for months."
TAB"Oh, c'mon! Do you have any idea what those things cost?"
TAB"And what's being stuck here, a five minute walk from Badger's office, for two days while Kaylee fixes the engine gonna cost?" she pointed out testily. She ostentatiously held the baby-monitor she was wearing on her wrist up to her ear. "Excuse me, sir."
TAB"Well, that's just shiny," Mal sighed. "Kaylee's mad at me, which means Simon and River are mad at me, Zoe's mad at me... Is anyone on this ship not mad at me?"
TAB"I ain't," Jayne replied cheerfully, applying a lit match to a massive, expensive-looking cigar that Mal was certain he'd looted from Simon's father at some point.
TAB"Oh good," Mal replied, vaguely disturbed to admit that this did make him feel a bit better.
TABGetting the rest of the cargo squared away and lashed down could keep, he decided, because they weren't going anywhere without a new compression coil. And better make it actually new and not just newer if at all possible, because there was a possibility that that might get Kaylee to stop sulking a bit sooner...
TAB"Say, Mal, ain't that the aliens we saw on TV?"
TABMal looked, and blinked. "Reckon it is."
TAB"... with arthritis, your bowels have got collitis, you've gallopin' bollockitis and yer thinkin' it's time you died," Bob sang cheerfully, leaning on a marginally more sober Jeb. "If you've been a man of action, and yer lyin' there in traction, you may gain some satisfaction thinkin' Jesus at least I tried!"
TAB"I can't understand a word you're saying, you know."
TAB"Doesn't translate well, sorry," Bob chuckled, and then launched into the chorus. "Oh, there's sober men in plenty, and drunkards barely twenty! There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl! But gimme a ramblin' rover, fae... something something something... we will roam the country over and together we'll holy shit that's Malcolm Reynolds! Hey, Mal! I owe you a beer, man!"
TABMal had a sudden premonition that this was going to be one of those days.
* * *
* The kerbals call it something entirely different and difficult to render into English, but the weapon in question works exactly the same way.
** Something of an approximate translation, but the term descends from the word for 'space' in Kerbin's dominant language in much the same way that 'Marine' derives from the word for 'sea'. More on these guys later.
* * *
TABJoenie Kermol took a long swig of her sapwood juice, set the glass down and adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses with a businesslike air. "The word 'ambitious' comes to mind," she said in carefully measured tones.
TABThe neatly besuited young kerman male smiled faintly. "People said that about the Grove on Duna."
TAB"Duna's surface was totally sterile; my team couldn't have had a better controlled growing medium if we'd bought it in bulk from a hydroponics company. Laythe is a very different problem. Not only are we introducing a Kerm to a foreign ecosystem, which for literally any other form of plantlife on Kerbin would be a massive no-no, we know even less about Laythe's ecosystem than our ancestors knew about Wakira's back in the Age of Sail."
TAB"We have a huge array of soil samples."
TAB"Soil samples taken from one fairly small island. Even here on Kerbin you can find ten thousand new species of bacteria or fungus in a soil sample taken from any randomly-chosen square kilometre of land, and then find ten thousand more species if you move a single kilometre in any direction, or come back to the exact same spot in a year. The variations will be pretty small, mind you, but any one of them could turn out be another Red Blight or something even worse someday. And again, that's just on Kerbin. What it might be like on a moon where life evolved totally separately in radically different conditions is difficult to even imagine."
TAB"True. But that native life will have no inherited protection against our antibiotics."
TAB"For the time being. And come to think of it, that's another worry. What happens if Kerm pollen or one of our artificial fertilisers proves to be toxic to native life?"
"This TABis why we came to you," the young kerman replied simply. "We're not a large or well-funded organisation, Dr Joenie. We've got plenty of good farmers and a couple of biology graduates, but none of us have any practical experience of establishing Groves even on Kerbin. But without a Grove, we won't have much of a colony to speak of."
TABJoenie nodded. "Don't get me wrong, Billick, I support your aims all the way. But it's difficult to understate what a huge undertaking this is. If any of your organisation were hoping we'd be planting a sapling as soon as we unloaded the orbiter then they're going to be sadly disappointed."
"ThatTAB's pretty much what we figured." Billick sipped his coffee. "We're not planning on shipping colonists out for another two years, but we want to send an advance party at the next window in three months. Their job will be to acquire more soil and water samples, expand the existing weather station network and run extensive controlled trials of Kerbin crops in Laythe soil, as well as bolting together some prefabs for the colonists when they get there and other preliminary work."
TABJoenie fished a spiral notepad and pen out of her desk drawer. "That sounds pretty workable, but it's going to involve a certain amount of equipment. What kind of budget are we talking about?"
TAB"Seventeen and a half thousand keros, plus whatever you can coax out of the university. The good news is we already have some of the equipment you'll need. The KSA had a few spare inflatable agridomes left over from the first wave of Duna colonies, and sold them to us for next to nothing 'cause they were just taking up space in storage. They're not exactly this year's model but they're in as-new condition. We also have the use of the old outpost buildings; everything portable was removed when it was mothballed but the lab facilities should still be useable."
TAB"That still leaves most of the lab equipment itself... Hmmm. Give me a day or two to get a list of gear and tally up the price tags, then we'll have something worth presenting to the grants committee. Am I going to be the only biochemist on the team?"
TABBillick smiled. "I take it that's a yes, then? And I'm not sure yet, but after this meeting I have an appointment with your colleague Dr Wickley from the Duna Grove project. I can guarantee you the services of two good biologists and an experienced hydroponics technician for your staff, though."
TAB"Wickley van Grun?" Joenie raised an eyebrow. "Why the two of us? We were the junior members of the team by quite a margin."
TAB"Everyone else either has dependents on Kerbin or jumped straight into a prestigious teaching or research post," Billick replied. "Besides, breaking ground on a new settlement is a young kerbal's game; there's going to be a good deal of physical labour involved in the early days and the climate isn't exactly balmy. But for someone young and fit who doesn't mind getting their hands dirty?"
TAB"It's like Geofley Kerman said. You could have the adventure holiday of a lifetime down there." Joenie finally cracked a smile. "Count me in!"
* * *
TABMal had sometimes given some idle thought to what it might be like to meet aliens. He supposed most people who spent a lot of time out in the Black did, even if they wouldn't admit it; after all, it was demonstrably possible to traverse the vast gulf between stars at a decent fraction of the speed of light, and some high-forehead types reckoned they'd eventually get past the light barrier. But the limit of his own vague speculation on the matter had always been that whatever one could imagine, it'd probably turn out to be wrong.
TABAs a messily drunk extraterrestrial chivvied him into posing for a photograph taken by his marginally more sober companion,* who was trying very hard not to laugh, Mal reflected that he'd sure been right about that.
TAB"You folks are pretty famous, you know," the sober one (Jeb?) remarked, his handheld computer translating what he was saying -which sounded vaguely like someone speaking Spanish backwards- into quite comprehensible English with an inexplicable yet oddly fitting New Texas** drawl. "If you ever get around to visiting you won't have to buy a beer for months. There was even talk of a statue at one point." Jayne and Mal carefully avoided meeting one another's eyes.
TAB"An' a petition to name a warship after you," Bob added. "Or some of you, anyway. Don't think they'd decided which ones. Wouldn't that be a kick in the nuts for Blue Sun?"
TAB"Yes, but we're supposed to be at least pretending we won't be cheering for the Independents if they decide they fancy a rematch," Jeb pointed out. "Besides, Captain Reynolds here was in the Army if memory serves. Can you imagine having to explain receiving highest possible award from the Navy to his old comrades in arms at the next big reunion barbecue?"
TAB"Ain't never had one of those," Mal replied. "Weren't enough of us left to warrant the trouble."
TABJeb looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Captain. That was thoughtless of me."
TAB"You weren't to know." Mal cracked a small smile. "Besides, you surely do have a point."
* Bob Kerman did not do selfies, even when he was three sheets and a couple of pillowcases to the wind.
** Whose inhabitants have generally regretted the choice of name, because someone in the Exodus fleet went to the trouble of preserving a DVD-rip of Brave Starr throughout the centuries-long journey from Earth-That-Was and it still periodically shows up in rotation on children's television networks. Even so much as humming the theme tune anywhere on the planet will go down about as well as making "steers and queers" jokes around someone from the original Texas.
* * *
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TAB"Ah, Malcolm Reynolds! Just the man I was looking for!"
TAB"Well, that's not at all ominous."
TABBadger affected a hurt look. "Oh, come now, Captain. Haven't we worked together often enough to establish a certain measure of trust?"
TABMal raised his eyes heavenwards, but conceded reluctantly that the man sort of had a point. Badger didn't possess much in the way of moral scruples, but he was very attached to his money, his reputation and above all his life. Fixers who snitched on contractors were apt to very quickly lose hold of all three. "So what's the job?"
TAB"Mixed cargo. Big load of terraforming equipment, secondhand computers and college textbooks, among other things."
TAB"Other things being?"
TAB"Well..." Badger demurred.
TAB"C'mon now, Badger. Haven't we worked together often enough to establish a certain measure of trust?" Mal echoed mockingly.
TAB"Hah! Touche, Mal. Truth is I don't know myself; most of it came to me in sealed containers, and the client indicated they'd be a bit peeved if it didn't arrive in the same state. For the fees they were offering I wasn't inclined to argue the toss."
TAB"Speaking of fees..."
TABBadger named a figure that convinced Mal not to argue the toss either. "Half in advance, half on arrival," he added.
TAB"Alright. Where's it headed?"
TAB"Jessenstein Base. Where else?"
* * *
TAB"Mr President, this is Colonel Kurt Kerjel from Air Force Information Warfare Command. He's our military liaison to the KSA's research and development wing and resident human expert."
TABThe President's smile was a little pained. Two years earlier this kid would have been considered a little young to be sporting a Captain's single gold bar on his epaulettes, much less four. The joys of large-scale mobilisation from a virtual standing start. "Colonel."
TAB"Good afternoon, Mr President, Mr Secretary. May I offer you some refreshments, or shall we get straight down to business?"
TABThe President laughed bitterly. "Putting off hearing bad news never helps, Colonel. Let's get to it."
TAB"Very well, sir." Kurt sighed. "Based on the tests that we've been running on hull materials salvaged from the wreck of the IAV Lafayette, the only weapon we have that can reliably mission-kill an Alliance warship is a nuclear warhead."
TAB"Well, shit," the President replied.
TAB"That's about what I said when I got the results, sir."
TAB"Correct me if I'm wrong, Colonel," the Secretary of Defence added, "but didn't Starfarer 1 blow the Lafayette clean in two with one railgun shell?"
TAB"Yes, Mr Secretary, we did," Kurt replied, with the air of a man who's getting very tired of answering this particular question. "After several missiles launched from the Fredricksson had already hit her, on top of extensive and poorly-repaired battle damage suffered when she was captured by the Reavers. If Bill had been firing on a Longbow-class warship in proper repair, a standard railgun shell wouldn't have done much more than mess up the paint. Hyper-velocity kinetic rounds would be more effective, but thanks to armour technology involving shear thickening, non-Newtonian fluids -the technical details of which are far beyond my understanding- it'd take at least two or three hits in the same spot to breach the internal compartments. We also believe the Alliance uses delayed-action warheads in their missiles, but how they get a useful explosive payload to survive a hypervelocity impact is a total mystery.
TAB"That by itself would not be an insurmountable problem, except that Alliance directed-energy weapons technology is decades ahead of ours. From the admittedly limited data we have on their pojnt-defence systems, we'll be doing well if we can ram through one missile in forty."
TAB"So we need nukes, and lots of them." The President winced. "Lemrick, what's our current worldwide production capacity for weapons-grade fissile material?"
TAB"A couple of hundred kilograms a year, sir. We could probably ramp it up to half a ton if we only needed small warheads, but that would mean taking a hit on reactor-grade fissile materials production."
TAB"Fortunately, we do. For what the backroom boys have in mind we'd only need between ten and fifteen kilotons, though that's offset some by the need for a specialist warhead design."
TAB"That'd give us about five to seven hundred warheads annually, Mr President. At least as long as we could keep the necessary uranium ore coming in."
TAB"And tungsten," Kurt added. "Lots and lots of tungsten. Are either of you gentlemen familiar with the theoretical concept of nuclear-pulse propulsion?"
TAB"Propelling a spaceship with the blast-wave of a nuclear detonation, yes," Lemrick replied. "Something we looked into during the Kerm Grove Crisis but gave up on because there was no way to build a pusher-plate in orbit."
TAB"And launching a spacecraft by letting off nukes in our own biosphere as a response to a shortage of good land to plant Kerm seeds was considered a little counter-productive," Kurt agreed. "But before the KSA abandoned the concept as unworkable, they did figure out a method of focusing a higher percentage of the energy from the warhead in a specific direction. A cone-shaped firing chamber is used to focus the release of thermal, gamma and other radiation into a large mass of tungsten pellets, which then basically act like the ball-bearings in a Claymore mine*: That's a gross over-simplification of the physics, but you get the idea. It's only maybe twenty-five to thirty percent efficient, and we estimate it'll have to detonate within a hundred metres of the target to be effective against Alliance armour, but we'd only have to get lucky once."
TAB"Well, that's something," the President allowed. "But it raises questions of escalation. If we deploy nuclear weapons in combat against Alliance warships, are they going to take that as a license to start deploying other weapons of mass destruction?"
TAB"I really can't say for sure, Mr President. I don't think it's likely, but I can't rule it out. A lot would depend on who was calling the shots in Parliament; it's only a few tub-thumping hotheads who are actively looking for an excuse to go hogwild with the orbital bombardment, but there's a lot of confused and nervous voters out there. And Blue Sun... Well, at this point we may have to consider them an independent power bloc within the Zyrix system. And a hostile one."
TAB"To us, or to the Alliance?"
TAB"Yes."
TABThe President pinched the bridge of his nose and considered the pros and cons of taking up alcoholism as a hobby. "Colonel... Do you have any unambiguously, caveat-free good news for me, or should I just pack up my belongings and my mistress and go Kermol in the remotest rural district I can find now?"
TAB"As a matter of fact, Mr President, I do," Kurt replied, wondering idly if the President was joking about the mistress before deciding he'd rather not know. "Mr Lemrick's colleagues in the Foreign Ministry have managed to lay hold of pretty much every piece of publicly available information on how the Alliance Navy's hull armour is manufactured. Some of the materials-science involved is way ahead of ours, but we're confident that we'll have at least the theoretical knowledge to manufacture comparable armour ourselves in a couple of years. Less if our academic head-hunting endeavours bear fruit. Mass production is liable to take much longer unless we can obtain the necessary industrial plant from Alliance sources, but it's a start."
TAB"Indeed it is."
TAB"Colonel," Lemrick added, "you said we only had one weapon that could kill an Alliance warship. Aren't you forgetting the 'wake', as I believe it's been nicknamed, of the Alkerbierre Drive? You know, the high-energy particle wave that the civilians accidentally blew up Eeloo with?"
TAB"I believe my exact words were 'reliably kill an Alliance warship', Mr Secretary. The Drive's wake isn't particularly useful against anything in a less predictable orbit than a planet; the spherical error probability of the exit point is huge, aiming would be dependent on a spotter vessel with a QE comms module being in visual range of the target, and in any case the blast radius is so large that we'd be very unlikely to get a clear shot outside of interstellar space. And that's before we get into the aforementioned escalation issue, because while the Alliance civilian leadership probably won't take drastic action in response to tactical nukes being used in a ship-to-ship engagement, I can just about guarantee they will if we go after them with fleet-killing strategic arms. After all, how would we react if they did it to us?"
TABLemrick nodded. "I see what you mean. With your permission, Mr President, I'll ask the Laws of War Committee to add weaponised Alkerbierre Drive wakes to the no-first-use list. It might pour some oil on troubled waters in the Zyrix system, and domestically for that matter."
TABThe President nodded. "See to it. Colonel, my thanks for your input. Now, if it won't disrupt your team's work excessively, I'd like to take a close look at the hulk of that Alliance frigate."
TAB"That can certainly be arranged, sir. Are you EVA-certified with a standard pressure-suit?"
* * *
TAB"Werner. You're looking..." Gene fumbled for a tactful word for it.
TAB"Bloody awful, I know. That's why I wanted to talk to you." Werner sat back down and took a sip of coffee. "I suppose my darling housekeeper gave you an earful about me?"
TAB"I know it... isn't looking good."
TAB"Hah! That's one way of putting it. Look, I'm not going to dance around the issue: I'm dying, Gene. The cancer might have been treatable if I were twenty years younger, but at my time of life radiation therapy would do more harm than good. I have maybe another year of relative good health, then the symptoms are going to stop being manageable with tablets and I'll need intravenous painkillers. After that point it'll be a couple of months, at the most."
TAB"Oh, Great Kerm," Gene murmured. "I'm... I'm sorry, Wehrner."
TABHe gestured dismissively. "Ah, it had to happen sometime. I'm old and tired enough that the prospect isn't all that frightening anymore, to tell you the truth; I imagine it'll be a lot like going to bed after a very long and busy day. And it's not like I have much left that needs doing now, is it?" He gestured at the big picture window, and the dusty-brown landscape of Duna on the other side of the heavily reinforced glass. "We're a full-blown spacefaring civilisation, Gene, and you and I helped make it all happen. I have the rare privilege of getting to die content in the knowledge of a job well done."
TAB"I... Yeah, I guess so." Gene sighed. "Is there anything I can do?"
TAB"There just might be. I'd like to go to the Zyrix system before I die; not just Jessenstein Base, but one of the planets or moons. I want to see the place, get to know the people and the culture a little bit."
TAB"I'll make it happen. Hanfrod owes me that much, given I've been officially retired almost two years and he still calls me three times a week. You might have to give some speeches and attend the odd university dinner though."
TAB"Hah! I wonder if theirs are as ghastly as ours. Hmmm... Perhaps I'll write a paper comparing human and Kerbal academic politics and see if I can't get into one of the big anthropology journals. That ought to give certain distinguished individuals from my alma mater something to think about!" Werner chuckled. "Say, on the subject of the Zyrix system, how's Bob these days?"
* * *
TABAs it happened, Bob Kerman was currently quite vexed. "What do you mean you can't find them?" he fumed. "You've got his full name and date of birth, you've got his last known address and you've even got his gorram DNA profile! How can this kid's parents just vanish?"
TABThe social worker took several deep, calming breaths. "Sir, I appreciate you aren't used to the scale of our jurisdiction-"
TAB"Don't you patronise me, lady, I know exactly how big this solar system is; I spent weeks mapping it by telescope. Now did Christopher Mullin's parents or did Christopher Mullin's parents not have social security numbers, or whatever you call them here?"
TAB"Yes, sir."
TAB"Then it stands to reason that unless they've retreated to some shack in the pi gu end of nowhere to raise marijuana, they must at some point have held a job and paid taxes, does it not?"
TAB"Yes, sir-"
TAB"Well then it might behoove you to place a telephone to the Alliance Revenue Service and get them to go through the tax records!"
TAB"We did, sir. The last confirmed place of employment for Christopher's father was a small financial services firm on Persephone, two years ago. I tried calling that firm, but they've folded; I was able to trace the owner, but all he could tell me was that Mullin planned to take his severance pay and head for one of the border moons. We know even less about his mother; after they divorced she had some kind of breakdown and went totally off the grid."
TABBob sagged in his seat. "Fan-fardling-tastic," he grumbled. "I'm sorry I lost my temper."
TAB"It's alright, sir. I'm frustrated by this too. Anyway... I know this isn't an easy subject, but we do need to talk about Christopher's living arrangements."
TAB"You have a suitable foster placement?"
TAB"Not exactly..."
TAB"Group home?"
TAB"Yes, sir."
TAB"Suitable for a child with serious emotional issues and a history of physical and psychological abuse?"
TAB"Um..."
TAB"And with security arrangements adequate to protect a child who is also a material witness in criminal proceedings against an organisation with a demonstrated willingness to use deadly force against federal agents?"
TABThe social worker sighed. "To be perfectly candid, sir, I doubt it. But it's all we have available."
TAB"Then I think you'd better talk to your opposite number from my government when he arrives on the next ship out of Kerbin; it's due in a week today. I'll have him call you."
TAB"Sir, I would remind you that Christopher Mullin is an Alliance citizen-"
TAB"And I would remind you that K-78356-Jessenstein and all its permanent orbital installations are the sovereign territory of the Kerbin federation of nations, by right of first verified landing as enshrined in Alliance law, and Christopher has been afforded the status of a political refugee. So don't get any bright ideas about showing up with some Federal Marshals to take him into state custody by force, because there's two armed picket ships and a platoon of Espatiers** who'll take grave exception to that even before the embassy weighs in."
TAB"Very well, sir." The woman sighed heavily. "I hope you appreciate that myself and the organisation I represent only want to do right by this child."
TAB"Then where the hell was your organisation when Blue Sun got their hands on him?" Bob retorted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have private tutors to interview."
TABThe best thing about Eavesdown Docks, in Bob's considered opinion, was the unspoken mutual agreement among the local populace to never ask inconvenient questions about things that didn't concern them. Human or Kerbal, you could rest assured that everyone you met there would be pointedly minding their own business at all times. After all, the saying "What goes around comes around" was another thing the two races had in common, and if you had nothing to fear from the idle curiosity of a passing stranger then you'd be conducting your business somewhere with better property values.
TABThe second best thing about Eavesdown Docks was the bar that an enterprising young kerman couple had opened to cater to the small but growing number of Kerbal ship's crews travelling between Persephone and Jessenstein Base. Bob was developing a deep appreciation for the local cuisine now he'd acclimatised to the point where he only needed antacids when he let Chris pick the pizza toppings, but he did appreciate the occasional taste of home, and the Starfarer Bar & Grill did some of the best homemade djan chips he'd ever tasted.
TABThe early-afternoon crowd was heavy for a weekday. Half a dozen Kerbals in expensive business-casual were clustered round a table having a working lunch; Bob figured them for either consulate staff or one of the trade delegations here for a business conference. A more casually dressed Kerbal male was sharing a private booth with a human woman who might or might not be his girlfriend, while at the far end of the bar a cheerfully rowdy group of bohemian types were loudly celebrating someone's birthday with a little exotic alien cuisine and a lot of exotic alien booze.
TABAnd of course there was Jeb, propping up the bar in his usual spot with a glass of beer and a bowl of the establishment's famous djans covered with local cheese and hot peppers, a serving style that was becoming extremely popular. "Hey, Bobcat!" he called out. "Look! They've got RT-5 in here now!"
TAB"That's handy. I could really use one." Bob parked himself on a bar stool next to Jeb.
TAB"Hah. I was gonna ask how your meeting went..."
TAB"Not well." Bob briefly outlined the discussion he'd had with the social worker. "I feel kind of bad for taking it out on her like that," he admitted. "But damn it all, Jeb, why does this have to be so hard? I get that neither of them were in a position to take care of a kid after their marriage broke up, but you'd think they'd want to know he was okay. Anyway, it looks like I'll need to hire a private investigator."
TAB"Why waste your money? If they can't be bothered to leave a forwarding address so that they could keep in touch with their only son, then I say fuck them and the horse they rode in on, as the local saying goes."
TAB"Because the least I can do for Christopher is find out whether they're alive or dead, particularly his mother; from what I can gather she wasn't in the best of mental health. Besides, if I can bribe or cajole them into signing certain official paperwork then I won't have Alliance Social Services -and boy oh boy is that acronym fitting in English- causing me quite so many legal headaches."
TAB"You're serious about the adoption thing, then."
TAB"Of course I'm serious about it, Jeb! I saw everything that kid went through, I can't turn my back on him now and still be able to look at myself in the mirror."
TAB"I know, I know. It's just that Jessenstein Base wouldn't be my first choice for a place to raise a kid."
TAB"Eh, it's only temporary," Bob replied. "My next mandatory physical's in a few months, and it's probably going to be the big one. And I've been thinking it might be getting to that time anyhow. After all, how do we top First Contact?"
TAB"I know how you feel. Been thinking the same thing, to be honest. I mean, I spent a year's pay on my boat; it'd be a damn shame if I never got any use out of her because I stayed in harness 'til I wound up in a wheelchair smelling of piss."
TAB"I'll drink to that," Bob agreed.
TABAnd they did drink to it. And to several other things they thought up afterwards, until it got to the point where the proprietor tactfully suggested they might want to quit while they were ahead.
TAB"How many times, Cap'n? How many times have I warned you that gorram compression coil was on its way out? 'cause I lost count after the first hundred or so."
TAB"Yeah, yeah, alright. How long is it gonna take to replace?"
TAB"That's the thing, Cap'n! It's not just the compression coil we gotta replace now, I gotta fix everything that got trashed when it let go. And that's gonna take me all weekend 'less I pull an all-nighter, which I ain't gonna 'cause this is your own dumb fault!" Kaylee spun on her heel and stalked back into the ship.
TAB"Hey! Don't you walk away from- Kaylee!"
TAB"She's right, you know," Zoe remarked, carefully checking a large sealed crate of something heavy was secure. "She's been warning you for months."
TAB"Oh, c'mon! Do you have any idea what those things cost?"
TAB"And what's being stuck here, a five minute walk from Badger's office, for two days while Kaylee fixes the engine gonna cost?" she pointed out testily. She ostentatiously held the baby-monitor she was wearing on her wrist up to her ear. "Excuse me, sir."
TAB"Well, that's just shiny," Mal sighed. "Kaylee's mad at me, which means Simon and River are mad at me, Zoe's mad at me... Is anyone on this ship not mad at me?"
TAB"I ain't," Jayne replied cheerfully, applying a lit match to a massive, expensive-looking cigar that Mal was certain he'd looted from Simon's father at some point.
TAB"Oh good," Mal replied, vaguely disturbed to admit that this did make him feel a bit better.
TABGetting the rest of the cargo squared away and lashed down could keep, he decided, because they weren't going anywhere without a new compression coil. And better make it actually new and not just newer if at all possible, because there was a possibility that that might get Kaylee to stop sulking a bit sooner...
TAB"Say, Mal, ain't that the aliens we saw on TV?"
TABMal looked, and blinked. "Reckon it is."
TAB"... with arthritis, your bowels have got collitis, you've gallopin' bollockitis and yer thinkin' it's time you died," Bob sang cheerfully, leaning on a marginally more sober Jeb. "If you've been a man of action, and yer lyin' there in traction, you may gain some satisfaction thinkin' Jesus at least I tried!"
TAB"I can't understand a word you're saying, you know."
TAB"Doesn't translate well, sorry," Bob chuckled, and then launched into the chorus. "Oh, there's sober men in plenty, and drunkards barely twenty! There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl! But gimme a ramblin' rover, fae... something something something... we will roam the country over and together we'll holy shit that's Malcolm Reynolds! Hey, Mal! I owe you a beer, man!"
TABMal had a sudden premonition that this was going to be one of those days.
* * *
* The kerbals call it something entirely different and difficult to render into English, but the weapon in question works exactly the same way.
** Something of an approximate translation, but the term descends from the word for 'space' in Kerbin's dominant language in much the same way that 'Marine' derives from the word for 'sea'. More on these guys later.
* * *
TABJoenie Kermol took a long swig of her sapwood juice, set the glass down and adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses with a businesslike air. "The word 'ambitious' comes to mind," she said in carefully measured tones.
TABThe neatly besuited young kerman male smiled faintly. "People said that about the Grove on Duna."
TAB"Duna's surface was totally sterile; my team couldn't have had a better controlled growing medium if we'd bought it in bulk from a hydroponics company. Laythe is a very different problem. Not only are we introducing a Kerm to a foreign ecosystem, which for literally any other form of plantlife on Kerbin would be a massive no-no, we know even less about Laythe's ecosystem than our ancestors knew about Wakira's back in the Age of Sail."
TAB"We have a huge array of soil samples."
TAB"Soil samples taken from one fairly small island. Even here on Kerbin you can find ten thousand new species of bacteria or fungus in a soil sample taken from any randomly-chosen square kilometre of land, and then find ten thousand more species if you move a single kilometre in any direction, or come back to the exact same spot in a year. The variations will be pretty small, mind you, but any one of them could turn out be another Red Blight or something even worse someday. And again, that's just on Kerbin. What it might be like on a moon where life evolved totally separately in radically different conditions is difficult to even imagine."
TAB"True. But that native life will have no inherited protection against our antibiotics."
TAB"For the time being. And come to think of it, that's another worry. What happens if Kerm pollen or one of our artificial fertilisers proves to be toxic to native life?"
"This TABis why we came to you," the young kerman replied simply. "We're not a large or well-funded organisation, Dr Joenie. We've got plenty of good farmers and a couple of biology graduates, but none of us have any practical experience of establishing Groves even on Kerbin. But without a Grove, we won't have much of a colony to speak of."
TABJoenie nodded. "Don't get me wrong, Billick, I support your aims all the way. But it's difficult to understate what a huge undertaking this is. If any of your organisation were hoping we'd be planting a sapling as soon as we unloaded the orbiter then they're going to be sadly disappointed."
"ThatTAB's pretty much what we figured." Billick sipped his coffee. "We're not planning on shipping colonists out for another two years, but we want to send an advance party at the next window in three months. Their job will be to acquire more soil and water samples, expand the existing weather station network and run extensive controlled trials of Kerbin crops in Laythe soil, as well as bolting together some prefabs for the colonists when they get there and other preliminary work."
TABJoenie fished a spiral notepad and pen out of her desk drawer. "That sounds pretty workable, but it's going to involve a certain amount of equipment. What kind of budget are we talking about?"
TAB"Seventeen and a half thousand keros, plus whatever you can coax out of the university. The good news is we already have some of the equipment you'll need. The KSA had a few spare inflatable agridomes left over from the first wave of Duna colonies, and sold them to us for next to nothing 'cause they were just taking up space in storage. They're not exactly this year's model but they're in as-new condition. We also have the use of the old outpost buildings; everything portable was removed when it was mothballed but the lab facilities should still be useable."
TAB"That still leaves most of the lab equipment itself... Hmmm. Give me a day or two to get a list of gear and tally up the price tags, then we'll have something worth presenting to the grants committee. Am I going to be the only biochemist on the team?"
TABBillick smiled. "I take it that's a yes, then? And I'm not sure yet, but after this meeting I have an appointment with your colleague Dr Wickley from the Duna Grove project. I can guarantee you the services of two good biologists and an experienced hydroponics technician for your staff, though."
TAB"Wickley van Grun?" Joenie raised an eyebrow. "Why the two of us? We were the junior members of the team by quite a margin."
TAB"Everyone else either has dependents on Kerbin or jumped straight into a prestigious teaching or research post," Billick replied. "Besides, breaking ground on a new settlement is a young kerbal's game; there's going to be a good deal of physical labour involved in the early days and the climate isn't exactly balmy. But for someone young and fit who doesn't mind getting their hands dirty?"
TAB"It's like Geofley Kerman said. You could have the adventure holiday of a lifetime down there." Joenie finally cracked a smile. "Count me in!"
* * *
TABMal had sometimes given some idle thought to what it might be like to meet aliens. He supposed most people who spent a lot of time out in the Black did, even if they wouldn't admit it; after all, it was demonstrably possible to traverse the vast gulf between stars at a decent fraction of the speed of light, and some high-forehead types reckoned they'd eventually get past the light barrier. But the limit of his own vague speculation on the matter had always been that whatever one could imagine, it'd probably turn out to be wrong.
TABAs a messily drunk extraterrestrial chivvied him into posing for a photograph taken by his marginally more sober companion,* who was trying very hard not to laugh, Mal reflected that he'd sure been right about that.
TAB"You folks are pretty famous, you know," the sober one (Jeb?) remarked, his handheld computer translating what he was saying -which sounded vaguely like someone speaking Spanish backwards- into quite comprehensible English with an inexplicable yet oddly fitting New Texas** drawl. "If you ever get around to visiting you won't have to buy a beer for months. There was even talk of a statue at one point." Jayne and Mal carefully avoided meeting one another's eyes.
TAB"An' a petition to name a warship after you," Bob added. "Or some of you, anyway. Don't think they'd decided which ones. Wouldn't that be a kick in the nuts for Blue Sun?"
TAB"Yes, but we're supposed to be at least pretending we won't be cheering for the Independents if they decide they fancy a rematch," Jeb pointed out. "Besides, Captain Reynolds here was in the Army if memory serves. Can you imagine having to explain receiving highest possible award from the Navy to his old comrades in arms at the next big reunion barbecue?"
TAB"Ain't never had one of those," Mal replied. "Weren't enough of us left to warrant the trouble."
TABJeb looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Captain. That was thoughtless of me."
TAB"You weren't to know." Mal cracked a small smile. "Besides, you surely do have a point."
* Bob Kerman did not do selfies, even when he was three sheets and a couple of pillowcases to the wind.
** Whose inhabitants have generally regretted the choice of name, because someone in the Exodus fleet went to the trouble of preserving a DVD-rip of Brave Starr throughout the centuries-long journey from Earth-That-Was and it still periodically shows up in rotation on children's television networks. Even so much as humming the theme tune anywhere on the planet will go down about as well as making "steers and queers" jokes around someone from the original Texas.