"Two hundred and sixty-seven quarters are green. Engines 1, 3, and 4 are green. Life support is at 62%. The main hospital is green, but only 4 of 8 clinics are green. 2 are yellow. The Star Map is at 56%. Weapons and Security is reporting 78%. And we're still waiting for status updates from Engineering, Hydroponics, Communications, and Science." Senior Deck Officer Lhasa Ookami was direct and by the book. She didn't even look up from her tablet as she rattled off status after status report.
Finley returned to her own tablet, reading the steady stream of data from the Star Map and the individual ship systems as they came ran through their initial BIT sequences. So far there'd only been a few hiccups. The Loss had gone through extensive testing before it had been released from the Yard, which required every system had to pass in the 90th percentile before they were released for flight. But all technological systems were finicky beasts and problems could appear and disappear in a moment.
Finley had once had an avionics specialist that said anything with chips and wires had a mind of its own. Finley shared the sentiment but tended to attribute it to anything designed after the human mind. Which itself, tended to resemble the universe.
Everything was cyclical, she mused. Machines were designed to mimic life. Colonies were designed to mimic Earth. In a way, ships were even designed to mimic the sea creatures that roamed the oceans on Earth. Human innovation had always been inspired by the world they lived in, by what nature itself had already invented.
The Loss itself was the perfect example. Shaped something like a whale for aerodynamics, with its dual solar sales that almost looked like fins or wings depending on your vantage point.
"What's going on with engine 2?"
Ookami pocked at her tablet, tossing her beaded braids over her shoulder. The movement almost sounded like an old rain stick. Oddly soothing. "I'll find out, Captain."
"Where's Martinez?"
"Here, Captain."
"How are we looking personnel wise?"
"80% of personnel have reported to their duty stations. Movement is getting bogged down at the the elevators, but it should be complete in the next hour."
Finley glanced at her from under her lashes. Beth Martinez stood with her back so straight it made Finley's ache in sympathy. "And personnel relations?"
Beth's face remained impassive. Clearly a professional NCO of the highest caliber. Every inch of her was in order and even though Finley knew her own uniform was spotless, and her hair was mostly under control, she still felt a bit unkempt in comparison.
Martinez glanced at the screen projected from her watch. "What is your barometer for significance, Captain?"
Finley glanced at Beau. Their eyes met and they shared an amused smirk. "Let's go from pre-school to hospitalization."
Martinez scrolled a few times and then said. "Nothing significant, ma'am."
"Huh. Good news then."
Beau snorted. "Shoulda put points on it."
"We haven't launched yet." Finley drawled.
He glanced at her, eyes bright and playful. "Hundred-"
Finley interrupted him. "Do. Not."
He laughed, bright and loud and more than a few people scattered across the deck looked over in interest.
It was a relief to realize there was at least one person on this ship that was bringing a positive attitude to this experiment on forced cohabitation.
Laughter made even the most painful challenges bearable, and Finley had always valued a positive attitude above almost everything else.
"Excuse me, Captain Fearghail."
Finley and Beau twisted in their seats. Standing behind Finley, partially blocked, but Martinez and Ookami, were a small group of people dressed in the grey uniforms of the diplomatic corps.
A non-military corps of the Space Forces that were all civilians and members of the Neutral Party.
Beau's face fell and Finley was certain her own did too. The Federation and the Republic had hated one another during the war, to the point that they'd excused some actions that were probably inexcusable. But as much as they'd been willing to do horrible things to each other, they'd both been willing to do much worse to the small faction that called themselves the Neutral Party for Pacifism.
They were still willing.
Or at least Finley was. She may have hated the Republicans during the war. Well, at certain points but probably not the whole time. She'd respected them too. The whole time, because they might have had completely different ideas about the path of humanity's future, but at least they were willing to fight for their beliefs.
There was nothing more useless than someone who wasn't willing to fight for what they believed in. The Pacifists had spent the entire war preaching peace and refusing to be involved in any aspect of the conflict. They'd managed to prevent anyone who identified as one of them from being drafted by either side, had withheld whatever funds and supplies they controlled and even refused to aid in non-war disasters that struck both sides.
They were against anything that could in anyway be related to conflict of any kind and just the sight of them gave Finley a splitting headache.
After the war, they'd wormed their way into the new government, not in the sweeping way they'd wanted, but enough that they now controlled the Diplomatic Corps. It gave Finley nightmares of never-ending negotiations and conversations that went in circles until she lost her mind.
And people who could never make up their minds about anything.
Finley couldn't stand that kind of behavior. She'd had no patience for it when she was a kid, even less when she was a teenager and as an adult, she was grown up enough that she could rationalize avoiding them at all costs.
Until now.
Their foothold in the new government had guaranteed them a place on the ship, though she was surprised they'd wanted one at all.
But maybe this would work out in her favor, all the former Federals and Republicans that hated each other, hated the Pacifists more.
Something they could agree on.
Hurray.
~ tbc