Chapter Forty Five- By Way of Gallopfrey
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
BY WAY OF GALLOPFREY
I watched the torpedo casing carrying the body of my old friend stretch and disappear with a dull red glow as it exited our warp field. In the privacy of my environment suit I pondered the nature of the grief these situations cause. I wondered if part of the sadness of those left behind was caused by a nagging uncertainty concerning the fate of the dearly departed. Until recently Death was an absolute. Nopony who experienced it ever came back... the anecdotal and questionable reports of purported mediums aside... to offer any data. Now, though, there was a Scroll written by my departed friend and Captain that offered an answer.
I had it scanned and stored in the memory banks of the Ship's Computer. The original I left in the Galley for anypony to read and draw their own conclusions. Sunny seemed shocked that I didn't lock it up someplace. My position, however, was that it had been written for the sake of all the Crew, it's not as if it were a personal letter! With Equestrin stubbornness I maintained that locking it away would only invite charges that it was a forgery created to justify my continuing our Mission. I could only offer my Word for its veracity and if that wasn't good enough for some Ponies then that was on them. Me, I knew!
I wasn't surprised... though I was ashamed... when I heard that there was an attempt to steal or destroy it, I don’t have all the details and I suppose I never will. It happened while I was on the Bridge prior to the funeral. I received a call from Sickbay from Rocky. When I arrived, two Ponies whom I flatly refuse to identify were being treated for multiple bruises, abrasions, and a cracked forearm. It was explained to me that they were caught in the act of either tearing up the Scroll or simply snatching it. There are always some crewponies in the Galley and unidentified Ponies stopped them. An altercation followed, and a younger newcomer to the Ship did what they thought was The Right Thing and Security was called.
A good Crew polices itself, and I inherited an excellent one. Whatever shortcomings the perpetrators have, they refused to identify their assailants. I'm reasonably sure that Rocky wasn't the original responder since he would have getting ready to participate in the ceremony. He was there, though, looking grim and taking responsibility for the call without so much as a hair in his mane out of place and wearing an unruffled uniform. Not that I had any doubt of his ability to subdue two amateurs, mind you, it was clear that he was covering for his Ponies. Shielding them from the fallout, ok, I'm an Equestrin and I could appreciate that.
The Scroll was partially crumpled and one corner was nearly torn off. I carefully smoothed it out as I listened to the two of them make their case. Since I knew the truth of its origins I didn't pay them much mind. I did tell them, though, that we live in a Free Society and they were certainly allowed their opinions. I was sorry that they refused to accept the evidence I made available. I politely inquired if they believed the worlds to be flat and that Hoofstrong never landed on the Moon as well? I pointed out that, unlike them, I didn't take it upon myself to deprive others of the chance to make up their own minds. To remind them of my fairness I told them that to my knowledge the only thing they were guilty of was brawling. It would be up to Starfleet to decide if they were guilty of anything more significant. More telling... at least I hoped so... was the fact that they had forfeited my trust in them. I told them that, as far as I was concerned, they were not fit to wear a Starfleet uniform. Accordingly, I restricted them to separate cells in the Brig. They would be allowed out on their Watch to perform their duties... and I made they would assigned to duties that would give them no access to vital systems. I made it clear in no uncertain terms that they had inconvenienced their Shipmates who now had to shoulder the extra work. In a quiet voice I damned both of them to whatever Hell would have them and had Rocky take them away. I didn't want to see either of them ever again. Whatever Ship I commanded or served on in the future, I swore I would make sure they never sullied its decks!
I made damn sure that this incident went into their Service Records as well. I wasn't being vindictive. I had the authority to drum them right out of Starfleet. Their actions, after all, were in direct violation of the spirit the Federation was chartered. It was just conceivable; however, that one or both of them would see the error of their ways and be better Ponies for it. The Mare in my head, being an even more pragmatic Pony than myself, only snorted at that and bid me to keep thinking wishfully!
Before he left I made it clear as vacuum to Rocky, with the understanding he would pass it along to the rest of the Crew, that I would tolerate no hazing of these individuals. In their solidarity, nopony stepped up to indict these two. It was just a brawl involving a couple of hotheads. As I mentioned, a Good Crew polices itself. Until, and if, they redeemed themselves they were effectively dead to their Shipmates. They'd both have to live with that.
A Klingon Captain would have probably gutted them on the spot. A Romulan one, based on what we observed during the War, would probably blow the ship up out of shame. On Equestris they would have gotten their lumps and would be set free. There would be one and only one warning. We don’t believe in the old ‘three chances’… if they did it again they’d end up at the bottom of a worked out shaft or had an ‘accident’ on the surface harvesting The Molten River. I was as just as I could bring myself to be, caught between two worlds as it were… I like to think that I incorporate the best of both of them. In any case, if recent events were anything to go by, they'd have to answer to a Higher Authority eventually, wouldn't they?
So it was in something of a moody state that I made my rounds of the Ship after the Services. The revelations of the last couple of days took a lot of the sting out of Caper’s loss so there wasn’t the sort of subdued air of sullen somberness one might have expected otherwise. The Grapevine had spread the word about what happened in the Galley across the entire Ship by then. I was half afraid I’d be greeted with protestations of loyalty wherever I went… the deeds of those two had managed to shake me that much! I didn’t want my Ship to become a Police State with me cast in the role of Big Sister!
The reality was a balm to my soul! Ponies made time to talk to me no matter how busy they were glad, perhaps, for the excuse for a break. What happened was a shame and, though nopony wanted to look like a sycophant, there was a general feeling that the parties involved deserved worse. We talked about Caper, about the odder elements of the Dreams they were having of late, even about my time walking on the other side of the gender line! I didn’t mind a bit. Given that we all lived in such relatively close quarters and were facing an uncertain future to boot there didn’t seem much point to be reserved!
The Second Watch was winding down as I made my way along the corridors feeling better than I’d felt for a while. I was outside Cargo Bay Two, thinking about popping up to the Galley for a bowl of ice cream, calories be damned, when I heard it!
Living aboard a Starship one is accustomed to various levels of background noise. Generally speaking, the closer one gets to Engineering the pulsing thrum of the plasma conduits gets louder. In portions of the Ship nearest to high-energy equipment there is always the hum of high frequency electricity leaking through the walls. Near the turbolifts one hears the muted swoosh of a car going by and those living or working near the various reclamation facilities get treated to the odd thump and gurgle as the automated systems recycle everything organic onboard. Over it all is the gentle susurration of the life support system cleaning and redistributing the very air we breathed.
This sound, though, was one guaranteed to send chills down the spine of the most inept Engineer! I froze in my tracks when I became aware of it. It started out softly but quickly grew louder, a slow, grinding scraping noise like a giant grinding a metal drum into the deck with ponderous twists of its hoof! Or maybe like Celestia’s Own Elevator seizing up and grinding to a halt! There were odd, almost chiming noises as it reached its climax and a sudden wind blew down the corridor though the nearest vents were around the corner from me. I was already sprinting for the nearest comm panel when it all ended with a pervasive, almost subsonic boom! As I thumped the button my mind was racing to figure out what had just happened. I kept one ear open for the sounds of explosive decompression and sniffed the air for the signs of a fire.
“Captain Starry-Eyes to the Bridge!”
“Lieutenant Kirk here, Captain.”
“Signal Yellow Alert! I’m on deck Ten outside of Cargo Bay Two. There seems to have been some sort of…” I couldn’t think of a better way of describing it. “Catastrophic mechanical failure in or around the Cargo Bay. Get a Damage Control party down here immediately and have Sensory do a sweep of the area. I’m going to check the Cargo Bay for damage or injured Crew!”
“Yellow Alert! Yellow Alert! Damage Control to Cargo Bay Two!” Merry's replacement, a Stallion named Code made the announcement. At every intersection the yellow Alert lights began to flash. I could hear the bulkheads closing nearby, sealing off this section of the hull. Without an override from the Bridge they would open only for the Damage Control Responders.
“Yellow Alert, aye-aye, Ma'am!” Kirk came back crisply. “Damage Control in on its way...” He paused and I could picture him looking over to Melody at the Science Station. “Sensors show no damage. I'm checking with Engineering.”
“Keep me posted. Starry-Eyes out!”
“Aye-aye!”
I thumbed off the comm and made my way to the double doors sealing the Cargo Bay. With the Yellow Alert on they'd have to be opened manually. I gingerly touched their surface. they weren't nearly as well insulated as the walls If there was a fire on the other side they'd be warm. On the other hoof, if the Bay decompressed they'd be a lot cooler... and they wouldn't open at all!
I flattened myself against the wall... failsafes had been known to fail in the past and there was no point in taking chances... and triggered the door mechanism.
The doors slid smoothly open as I held my breath. I heard rapid hoofsteps coming quickly from within. Somepony was trapped inside, trying to get out!
I stepped into the doorway just in time to have somepony run into me! I reached out to fend whoever it was off and grabbed... something warm and soft. Bob slid to a halt, windmilling his arms to keep his balance. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He had it clutched in one hoof instead. I looked down at the figure in my arms, straight into the wide, brown eyes of my Yoemare!
Xantippe had her blouse in one hoof and her bra in another and was wearing something black and lacy by way of underwear. She would have covered herself with her hooves, but I was already doing that for her!
“Oh, no!” She whispered, freezing when she recognized me.
Bob tried to stand at attention and salute at the same time. ...Part of him was at attention already and gave a one-eyed wink to all of us!
“C-Cap'n!” He gulped and blushed, mortified, pointing with his free hoof behind him. “You ought to see it! Came roight outa nowhere! The damndest thing you ever saw! ...Uh, next to this!”
The Mare in my head was doubled over, laughing! No doubt she was filing this image away as a treasure memento...
I popped my hooves open and took a quick step back, staggering Xantippe and making her jiggle enticingly. I could feel my muzzle and ears burning.
“All right,” I managed to get out in a more-or-less normal voice. “I won't ask what's going on here, but what the Hell was that noise?” The Mare in my head suggested that the Starship has just Moved. I spun her chair around fast enough to make her squawk and hang on! “Bob, put that thing away before you hurt yourself! Xantippe... get dressed! Damage Control is on the way!”
The trouble with an integrated crew on a long-duration voyage is that, well, Mares are Mares and Stallions are Stallions! A Starship is not a luxury liner and there is no real privacy, officially, to be had. Junior Officers share quarters. Command Officers have private cabins. The rest of the Crew live communally by Department, eight or ten to a room much in the same way I got by back Home. When Biology rears its uh, head, one has to make... arrangements one way or another. There's always a quiet corner on some ship a couple could steal away to. Me, I took cold showers until I made Lieutenant. Then I uh, took matters into my own hooves while my roomy was away.
I stepped into the Cargo Bay turning my back on the Zebra while she scrambled into her clothes the Mare in my Head tweaking the peripheral vision settings. I sent her a reminder to get back to work! Bob turned aside and sealed his trousers while I winced, remembering all too well what that felt like!
What I saw completely took my mind off the lovers!
At the back of the Bay, right against the shuttle doors, stood a rectangular box standing on its end. It was made of wood, I recognized the stuff from my time on Earth, and was painted a dark, somewhat weather-worn blue. The side facing me had two narrow doors, each one bearing a group of six vertically-aligned rectangular windows of solid white glass. Upon the left was affixed a sign. On a weathered, white background, printed in centered capital letters of varying sizes ran the notice...
POLICE TELEPHONE
FREE
FOR USE OF PUBLC
ADVICE & ASSISTANCE
IS AVAILABLE IMMEDIATELY
OFFICERS & CARS
RESPOND TO ALL CALLS
PULL TO OPEN
Along the top was a band of black which bore the legend, POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. Its roof was flat, but the center peaked up gently and bore at its apex a light underneath a domed, cylindrical covering of some sort, dark as I looked at it. The thing was only a few inches taller than I am. Amid the neatly stacked, polygonal cargo containers it stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb!
Bob shrugged into his shirt and stepped up beside me. His voice could have been twenty-percent calmer but he did a great job of salvaging his aplomb... if not his dignity. His normally repressed accent came through.
“That's the beast. Made a hell of a racket comin' in! That loight on top was blinkin' blue in time with that caterwaulin' it was doin'. Just came outa nowhere, it did. First we heard the noise, then it just faded into bein'. Not loik any sorta transporter, magical or otherwise I ever saw.” He eyed the thing sourly. “Roight proper mood killer, that!”
“Didn't look like it from here.” I said drily, never taking my eyes off the thing.
“Well, ‘S loike they say. ‘Can’t keep a good Pony down’, eh?” He gave me his easy grin while I facehoofed.
I snuck a cautious peek over my shoulder. “You ok, Xantippe?”
“My dignity is ruffled but I will manage.” She stepped up and peered out from behind Bob. “Do you suppose that is the Doctor’s carriage?”
I stepped over the comm panel by the door and hit the button. “Bridge! Belay Damage Control and secure from Yellow Alert. Everything’s quiet down here.” I paused to eye the enigmatic thing that just arrived. “Call Sickbay or the Galley. See if anypony knows where Tyllae is at and send her down here. Her friend seems to have arrived.”
“The Doctor, Captain?” Kirk asked. “Doctor who?”
“Damned if I know, Lieutenant.” I sighed. “Damned if I know.” I clicked off and took up station in front of the Big Blue Box, putting my hands on my hips and giving it another visual going-over.
“This thing can’t be a ship! It’s more like some sort of crazy escape pod!” I gave it a dubious look. “Is anypony packing a communicator by any chance?”
“Nah!” Bob gave Xantippe a quick wink. “Only brought enough equipment for the job at hoof.”
“Well we couldn’t jimmy a door open with that no matter how highly you think of it!” I rolled my eyes while the Yoemare ran a hoof through her short mane and smiled a small, secret smile at the Quartermaster.
“So, do we only stand and balk? Or should somepony be so bold as to knock?” She asked, smoothing out her outfit and adjusting her straps.
I gave the doors an irritated look. “Seems like we should since whoever’s inside doesn’t seem inclined to come out.” Stepping up to the right-hoof door I noticed there was a keyhole in a round, brass lock. I rapped on the door with my knuckles three times. When nothing came of that I tugged on one of the D-handles the doors were equipped with. It didn’t budge at all, not one millimeter of give. Odd, given the relatively flimsy-looking construction of the thing! I tugged harder twice, the last time with enough strength that I should have ripped the thing free.
“Ok.” I rejoined our little group. “So much for that!”
“If it’s an escape pod they might be injured or unconscious in there.” Bob drawled thoughtfully.
“We’re still left with the same two conclusions.” I considered the thing. “He won’t come out or He can’t come out. The question is can we get in? That thing is more solid than it looks!”
“Are we sure that this belongs to the Doctor?” Xantippe stepped a little to one side, looking it over from a new perspective.
“Tyllae mentioned she knew a Pony who had a Magic Blue Box once upon a time.” I nodded to it. “Seems like too much of a coincidence to be anything else. Great! More Magic to have to contend with!” I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice as I turned away from it, the idea of calling in somepony from Engineering to take a crack at getting it open taking shape in my head. “Give me good, reliable technology any day! I’ve always said my ancestors had the right idea when they eschewed…”
I stopped as Bob and Xantippe looked behind me at the same moment while a voice spoke up behind me.
“As a wise man, er, Pony once said, ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology would be indistinguishable from magic’. It’s all a matter of perspective, isn’t it?”
I whirled around, nearly knocking Bob over with my upper torso in the process! The door I’d tried was now open and before it stood…
I blinked twice while the Mare In My Head leaned forward, staring intently at her screen. In the vision supplied by Discord I’d seen Ponies who went about on four legs but that entire episode, coming from where it did, made me skeptical about the concept. Luna and Celestia I could accept as quadrupeds, they were archetypes after all! But the idea of rank-and-file Ponies having four legs never took hold in my mind. It just didn’t seem reasonable, somehow!
The Stallion who stood before me was just a bit more than half my size, his head just about up to Xantippe’s collarbone. He was a soft brown with a chestnut mane pushed back carelessly from his forehead. On his bare hindquarters he bore the image of a cocked hourglass and he wore an open brown jacket on his forequarters with darker brown patches on the elbows. Something silvery like an overgrown stylus or maybe an old-style pen protruded from one of the pockets. There was an old-style wristwatch with an analog display with a flexible gold band on his right wrist, er, hock. A pert red bow tie was fastened around his neck, a nice compliment to his smiling, blue eyes.
“Hello.” He held a foreleg up to his breast and said brightly. “I’m The Doctor!”
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Knock four times, captain.
The Doctor is in.
Hey, thats Owlicious line, and dont bother complanin bout me gramma, she could kick yer in da goolies before yer ad time to blink.
Now for the fun stuff, how to set up a stable hyperspacial intersection onto a structure within an Alcubierre spacefold, without the DM having to roll on bag of holding inside a bag of holding.
I really wish thats the one single thing the writers of Doctor Who would remember. What you see of the Tardis, is a Chameleon field. It doesnt physically exist except round the entrance, whereupon all it is is ultra highly curved space time, that is the hyperspacial interface. If it wasnt for the associated damping systems, the door should be emmiting hawking radiation like a black hole of similar radius, and for pretty much the same reason. Um, I havet the maths to hand, but it should be something on the order of a small star, and the particles starting at mass higher than CERN and going up. Hence why I have problems understanding why he has trouble punching through to alternate universes. His Doorbell is such a transdimentional punch through by default.
Next time you need room alone, do like farm ponies, and rearrange the storage containers to give multiple rooms.
3356041 Four times? Is that a Doctor Who thing?
3356162 Not just 'in', but 'COOL!'
3358294
Yes it is. The tenth's song will end as HE knocks four times.
At this point one might mention that crystalline structures are highly suseptable to sonic resonance. Sonic screwdriver might be able to crack cosmic death prisim.