//------------------------------// // Chapter Five // Story: Idle Curiosity // by AwkwardTaco //------------------------------// Samuel Hixon hummed quietly to himself as the elevator to Deck Five descended. It was for quiet moments like this that he had joined the Navy. His duties never really generated much fuss, and he preferred the simple rut of his schedule over the hectic hassle of any other position. And people hated him for it. If there was even a minor infraction or delay in the ship's day-to-day processes, Hixon was the first to point them out and demand punishment towards the perpetrators. He had few friends at his position, needless to say. The elevator came to abrupt stop as it reached its destination, causing Sam to lose his footing and nearly fall over. If there was one wrong thing aboard the Clarke, it was without a doubt the elevator. The doors slid open, revealing the large cavern-like interior of the Storage Deck. The few powerful florescent lights nearly fifteen meters overhead barely penetrated the canopy of crate towers. Sam had to squint in order to find the Chief Logistics Officer on the far side of the room, operating on the only computer terminal in the cargo bay. "Tucker, what are you doing?" Hixon asked as he walked closer, mentally making a list of all the safety violations in the Storage Deck. "Damn thing's caught some kind of bug," Tucker replied from behind the large console of monitors and buttons. "Something's messing with the administration login, so I'm rebooting the whole system." "I actually needed you to retrieve some ordnance deployment records from it," Sam sighed. "Commander says the ship's computer isn't registering some data from logistics correctly." "Well, I have been on duty since we arrived at our last drop off. I'll tell you anything you need to know," Tucker said. "What's the corrupted data about?" "Order... 543-A: GSI and GPS satellites. Orion-class. You reported that you deployed those," Sam read off the supply report from his datapad. "System didn't register it, though." "Huh. Yeah, I sent that out a few minutes after the order came from the bridge," Tucker said as he clicked something behind the monitors. "I'm sure it has something to do with the bug in the admin programs. Like I said, I'm going to fix it with this reboot." Hixon raised an eyebrow. "Right. I'm going to need more than your word to finish up the documents. I need something more official." "I don't know what to tell you, man," Tucker responded as he slid himself out of the gap. "All the data is going to be purged with the reboot. Even the backups." "That seems a bit extreme for fixing a login screen," Hixon folded his arms. "Have you tried getting anyone from maintenance on this instead?" "Well, yeah. I just... think that it would save time to do it myself," Tucker said hesitantly. "I don't want anyone else working on this." "Irrelevant. Let me operate that console." "The administration login isn't working anyway, Hix. You won't be able to get-" "Just watch me," Hixon scoffed as he pushed Tucker out of the way. "The datachips are still intact, yes? Regardless if the console isn't working, I'll just access the chips and everything on them." Hixon began pulling out one datachip at a time from the exposed circuitry, being quite thorough in making sure he got every last one out of the computer. It was actually helpful of Tucker to go and remove the casing in the back and allow Hixon to go straight to work. From the corner of his eye he saw Tucker pacing around the deck frantically. "Hix, pal, you need to just calm down and get back to the bridge. Just take my word for it," Tucker sounded defeated. "No can do. Now stop pacing around like a lunatic before I call security on you for suspicious behavior," Hixon sighed as he plugged in the first chip from his pile. "Let's see what our dear computer recalls." Shipments of food items to the mess hall, requests for a fresh supply of engine coolant, and other such normal things composed most of the logs imprinted on the chip. However, closer to the end of list he found a few things very out of place. "Tucker..." Hixon's voice trailed off as he looked down the list is astonishment. "Why is there high-explosive ordnance on the-" His sentence was cut short as Tucker whacked the back of Hixon's head with his sidearm. Hixon's vision blurred from the sudden pain, but he rolled with the blow and landed on the deck. Barely clinging onto consciousness, he clambered back to a standing position to face his attacker. "I told you to stop snooping, Hix!" Tucker exclaimed as he lunged again with his free hand to strike. Hixon ducked and missed the punch by mere centimeters. He quickly ran into the forest of cargo containers. "Damn it! Get back here, you idiot!" Clutching his head with his right hand, Hixon tried his best to get as quiet as possible. The dimly lit interior of the room meant that he could evade his unexpected assailant as long as he didn't broadcast his whereabouts. "Shit shit shit. Get out here Hix, damn it. I'm not gonna- I mean I won't hurt you, man. I can't let you get out of here until- arrgh, I fucked up!" Tucker rambled incoherently. Hixon racked his brain trying to figure out what was actually going on while hiding in the shadows. He moved silently past an enormous rack of cargo as quick as he could, trickles of blood dripping from between his fingers. Resting his back against the metal support, he slid down slowly onto the floor. On the far side of the rack, Hixon could see the silhouette of Tucker and hear his ramblings. "Sam, I can't let you get off this level. I'll kill you if I have to, man. Please don't make me kill you," whined the distant voice of Tucker. "I'll find you one way or another, Hixon. That's a promise!" Ignoring the constant curses and jumbled death threats, Hixon began searching the rack for any light containers he could throw. He hoped to trick Tucker into investigating the noise while he made a mad dash to the elevator. Unable to find any such objects where he was, he moved to the next shipping rack one to his right. The first container on the bottom was far too heavy for anyone to pick up without aid. Hixon could barely make out the bold label printed on the side: ORION-class Satellite Unit. Number Six of Eight. Hixon's mind reeled as he tried to comprehend what was happening in addition to trying to survive. His fears and suspicions would have to wait until he was safely out of Deck Five. "If you even take a step to the elevator, Hix, I'll gun you down. Just come over to me and I'll just knock you out until it's safe for you to leave," Tucker bargained. Hixon put his hand on top of one of the levels and began moving his hand about to find any loose articles. He finally grabbed hold of a wrench and chucked it several meters in the opposite direction of the elevator. He could hear Tucker's loud footsteps race towards the origin of the noise. Hixon jumped up from his crouching position and ran towards his only escape route, ignoring the pain of his injured head. The elevator opened automatically at his approach, almost seeming to wait for Hixon to enter and escape... His accelerated stumbling was interrupted suddenly as Tucker jumped onto him from behind, wrestling him to the ground. Hixon tried desperately to get off his stomach and into a more defensive position, but Tucker pinned him to the ground with remarkable strength. Tucker hit Hixon over the head once again with his handgun, quelling his desperate movements. Hixon's vision darkened and his body became strangely numb. Still, he could feel the restraints being tied on his hands and feet as well as being dragged across the room towards another section of the deck. "It has been three hours," Commander Rainsford muttered bitterly. "Where is Lieutenant Hixon? His break isn't for another hour still." "He hasn't checked in on any deck, sir. Reports show he didn't check in on Deck Five either," A young Ensign replied. "Should I order a security detail to find him, sir?" "Yes," Rainsford sighed as he nodded his head. "Hixon wouldn't forget to make a report unless something was terribly wrong. Order four men down there and try to raise communications with Deck Five. Someone has to have seen him." "Aye, sir." "Sir? Engineering is reporting a cascade failure in the FTL drive. We're losing speed quick," reported the helm officer from the lower platform. "Get a maintenance team down there now. What's causing the engine failure, Ensign?" Rainsford inquired as he got up from his command station. It wasn't normal for engines to suddenly shut down with modern fusion drive engines. They were too well made and maintained to suddenly start acting up. "Unknown, sir. The engineers are saying have no idea what's going on." "Wonderful," Rainsford grumbled quiet enough so that no one else in the Bridge could hear him. His ship was falling apart all around him, and he had no idea why. "Where's our projected endpoint?" "Empty space, sir. We're still four hundred lightyears from Aegis," he reported with a hint of disappointment. "Then we wait there and hope that the engines get repaired quickly," Rainsford nodded as he watched the distant stars decelerate as the ship itself slowed. Indeed, the sector where the ship had ended up was indeed "empty space". Very few particles of matter littered the black void outside of the ship. Even the closest star system seemed impossibly distant. "Sir?" the communications officer said in what seemed to be complete amazement. "We're receiving a priority hail from the Admiralty. Private band spectrum." "Confirmed sighting of friendly ship off our stern. IFF tags say its the UEGS Asimov!" reported a surprised Lieutenant Tobler. "What the hell is the Admiralty doing out here?" Rainsford thought out loud. "Patch the communication through, Lieutenant." "Aye, sir." On the Bridge's main holoterminal, a robust yet fairly old officer appeared. If his graying mustache was any indicator, the hair hidden behind his peaked cap was also losing its youthful color. Menacing brown eyes seemed to pierce Rainsford's very soul. "This is Admiral Ivan Zaroff of the UEGS Asimov. Your ship has been disabled as per order of the United Earth Government Expeditionary Fleet. I am coming aboard along with an escort of marine squads to speak with Commander William Rainsford. Any attempts at preventing our boarding will be met with severe court-martials," the Admiral's voice came in crystal clear through the hologram. "This is not a request. Asimov out." "What the hell is going on?" Rainsford muttered once the projection had fully disappeared.