Stonerager Chronicles
By 2Charlie
This is a science fiction series that happens to include occasional erotic scenes. If you have not yet read previous chapters of this series, I highly recommend going back to do so before you read this chapter.
All characters in this story are of the age of majority.
Chapter 05
*****
Dutch put the finishing touches on the '06' he had hand-painted on the droid's chest and back, giving him an easy way to identify which one of the damned things he was looking at. He'd done the same with the other five, beginning with the two he'd salvaged from Ganymede, then the four additional units that he'd had Prime synthesize for him. Standing back to appraise his handiwork, he was satisfied - at least for now.
Checking his small pocket pad, he noted that his next task was almost ready - he'd had Prime create a new command chair for him to mount on the new bridge - what used to be simply called the flight deck now housed much more than just the flight controls, hence, the rebranding as 'the bridge.' He had planned to mount it behind and between the navigator and helmsman positions, He had spent a few days considering his options for redesigning the bridge to accommodate new functions, and he opted to add a science station, an operations station, a weapons station, a communications station, and an engineering station.
Admittedly, he did not yet have the necessary crew to man each of the stations, on even a single shift. However, if his luck continued as it had thus far, he figured that his crew would likely grow larger over time. He had a basic modification in mind and was working with Prime, Pheebs, and the droids to execute the changes.
For just a brief moment, he felt his balance shift slightly beneath him, but only just. The inertial dampeners worked wonders, he had to admit it. Dutch looked again at his list, trying to find other matters that could be handled away from the bridge, intentionally trying to keep from going there. Pheebs was training D'narius and Jjin'tira the basics of the control surfaces at the helm and navigator's stations. She was putting them through a series of maneuvers designed to help them accelerate the pace at which they learned the nuances of piloting the Odyssey. Not wanting to be a distraction or make the new crew members nervous about the potential for mistakes, he was keeping himself busy elsewhere.
"Prime, can you interface directly with any of the droids as needed, or are they perpetually autonomous beings that you instruct?" he asked the ship's AI.
"I am able to assume direct control of any or all of the droids in an emergency, Captain. However, I believe that would be a relatively inefficient use of my time. Instead, I have taken great care to upgrade their data processing pathways in anticipation that you will require more of them than their original design specifications envisioned."
"Good to know," Dutch replied, opting to hold off on the hand-over-hand down in the propulsion plant in favor of spending some time with Prime designing a new crew uniform. The old Project Daedalus jumpsuits just didn't seem to fit the requirements anymore. In fact, he really wanted to transition to two-piece uniforms - something that made going to the head a bit easier, if nothing else.
Scanning through some visual suggestions that Prime had presented for his review, he identified simple black trousers with colored piping along the seams as a good choice for the uniform bottom. He wavered between utility soft shoes and boots for the footwear, finally compromising with boots that offered support and protection while having flexible soft soles. For the upper body, a simple dark-colored tunic would suffice, with a black zip-up utility jacket, with piping and colored shoulder boards, as well as elastic wrist and waistbands. A pair of soft, thick black socks wrapped up the outfit.
Looking at the total package, he requested Prime to synthesize the uniform in his size, with the piping and undershirt in a burgundy color. Moments later, the new wardrobe was ready. Not even bothering to look around, he proceeded to strip down to his boxers and try on the new uniform. Looking at his reflection in the nearby viewscreen, he was pleased. He would probably need to come up with rank devices and a ship's insignia, but for now, it was enough.
The ship shuddered hard, coming about in a turn tight enough to strain the inertial dampeners, then twisted again, shuddering under an impact.
Fuck this
, he thought, racing for the bridge. As he was passing through the final hatch to the bridge, the ship's 1MC squawked, with Pheebs tightly saying, "Captain to the bridge."
"Report," he prompted tersely as he stepped onto the bridge, walking up to stand next to Pheebs.
She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised in appreciation of the new look, then began to give him an update. "Captain, we were performing advanced tactical maneuvers when an alien vessel emerged from a dense part of the asteroid belt nearby and opened fire on us."
"What type of weapons, and did we sustain damage?" he asked, looking at the various displays, but seeing no red telltales.
Alisia sounded from the operations post, "Energy weapons - some sort of particle beams, but our shields shunted them aside easily enough. Shields remain firm. No damage, sir."
The Odyssey shuddered again as the other vessel fired her weapons once more. "Hit on our port aft shield, sir," Alisia called out, "Still no damage."
"I have weapons lock on them, sir," Jjan'tira called out from her position. "Shall I return fire?"
"Hold your fire, Jjan'tira," Dutch ordered, pivoting to the helm. "D'narius, do we know who they are?"
"The ship's configuration roughly matches that of an Oo'lan'Drag vessel," D'narius responded, "These are a heavy-grav species of humanoids who typically mine asteroids. I've not heard of them being in this sector before."
"Did we do something to provoke them?" Dutch asked the bridge at large.
Pheebs answered him crisply, saying, "We were engaged in simulated combat maneuvers, but had not yet performed any live-fire exercises."
The Odyssey shuddered again, more violently this time, rocking beneath Dutch's feet. "Jjan'tira, can you get a lock on that ship's weapons?"
"Ay, sir. Lock established," she called out quickly, her attention fastened to her readouts.
"Disabling fire only - take out their weapons," he ordered.
Quadruple beams of energy lanced away from the bow of the Odyssey as her plasma weapons were discharged, intersecting
with the nose of the alien craft, producing a blossom of plasma and an explosion, after which the other craft veered away lazily.
"Direct hit, sir. They're moving off," Jjan'tira reported.
"Shall I lay in a pursuit course, Captain?" D'narius asked, hands ready on her controls.
"Negative. Pheebs, engage Stealth screens. Alisia, maintain a track on them. D'narius, keep our distance, but trail that ship. Pheebs, monitor for any outgoing transmissions and get Prime to assist you if they are encrypted."
Walking over to Jjan'tira, he patted her shoulder. "Good shot, Jjan," he told her, making her smile at the compliment. Turning to the rest of the bridge, "Good work, all of you. Now let's figure out why the fuck those assholes opened fire on us. If it's something we did, let's figure that out so we don't accidentally do it again. If they were just being assholes, we'll deal with that soon."
Stepping over to the science console, he tapped on the interface to wake it. "Prime, give me what you have from collected data sources about the.... what the fuck did you call them, D'narius?"
"The Oo'lan'Drag, sir," she replied.
"Right, the Oo'lan'Drag. I need data." Dutch waited for a moment, then began reading the data dump that filled his screen.
He'd not gotten far when Pheebs called out, "Sir, I'm picking up a transmission from the Oo'lan'Drag vessel. It's in the clear, and the lingua-code is translating it in real-time. They're calling for assistance, reporting hostile contact."
"Understood. Let me know if they receive any response," Dutch replied, then turned back to his console. "Prime, please analyze available tactical data. Do the Oo'lan'Drag ships represent a threat to the Odyssey?"
"The iShan'tal and Terran databases both contain references to Oo'lan'Drag Hammerheads, which rely on their massively dense hulls to shield them from weapons fire while they ram their enemies, usually when close to some celestial obstacles such as asteroids, or near planetary atmospheres, or in one case near the accretion ring of a black hole."
Checking the nearby NAV display, he noted their proximity to the asteroid field, especially a few larger asteroids.
"Prime, analyze their strategy. What weapons combo does Odyssey possess that could negate such an attack?"
"Captain, my analysis indicates that three options are immediately evident. One - you could strike them with devastating force using a High-Energy-Density Plasma Torpedo. Two - you could disable their propulsion. Three - you could redirect them using the ship's tractor beam to repulse more. Alternatively, you could tractor them and drag them around until they disengage."
"Any records of any negotiated peace with these guys?" Dutch asked, opening the topic up to more than just Prime.
"The iShan'tal do not negotiate, as you know," D'narius offered.
"Well....," Alisia began, only for D'narius to cut her off.
"That was one time, and only in extremis. These crude beings do not pose the same level of threat that the Terrans did."
"Well, I'm not normally a shoot first and ask questions later kinda guy," Dutch pointed out, ignoring the odd look D'narius shot him, "so let's be ready with some options, but I'd like to try talking with these fuckers before we decide to lay waste to them."
D'narius and Jjan'tira looked back at him in dismay, then at each other. Shrugging, they returned their focus to their consoles.
