| Short Story #7 |
| Powder Monkey July 2010 |
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| CSS VIPER Patrol Log #129 11 August 2286 On the Edge of the Upper Abyss A Special Nova Roger Campbell |
“Skipper, Doc. Turn on Channel 6.”
As Captain Roman reached over and turned on his monitor he wondered
what Doc had picked on all that fancy equipment down in the Science section
of Sick Bay. “Okay, I see a nova.”
“Wait one, I need to adjust this array. There.”
“Doc, why does that nova look different?”
“That sir is the 64 million dollar question. If we’ve got time, can we make
a run into that mess?”
“Just for something to do you want us to take a joy ride through a nova?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“Doc, what the hell you looking for?”
“Those colors are not normal for a nova. I want to check it out. I have a
strange feeling about that thing.”
“Mind enlightening me.”
“Sir, I ain’t joking. Those colors on the spectronameter matches what we
would see if we used that thing on alcohol.”
A pin could have been heard hitting the bridge’s deck.
“You want to run that by me again.”
“Sir, I think that nova’s got a lot of alcohol in it.”
“Is that normal? Can we drink it?”
“Not normal, but has happened on a small scale a couple of times. Won’t
know if it’s drinkable until we test it.”
Without a moment of hesitation Roman issued his order. “Helm, new
course 038mark15, maintain this speed. Once we enter the nova we’ll slow to
50k. . . . No Boats, you may not be relieved. You’ll remain on station. Let
one of the other chiefs get the stuff.”
“Ah, boss.”
“Relax, if that’s stuff’s drinkable, we’ll collect some. Screw naval regs. But
I will not have my crew getting drunk, especially not up here where we might
meet an Undead vessel.”
“Boss, trust your old chief. I can handle my alcohol.”
“Yeah right. By doing elbow exercises?”
“There’s another way?”
#
Slowly Viper entered the nova. Most of the crew were looking out one of
the portals either enjoying the beautiful potpourri of colors or looking to see if
there really was alcohol out there.
“Helm, course 000mark90 speed 50k. . . . Doc, Skipper, how’s the
show?”
“Not able to say. It’s looking more and more like alcohol, but I need to get
some samples before I can say for sure.”
“No problem, Doc. Get what you need to do a walk. Helm, park us inside
that dense cloud over there.”
Ten minutes later Doc was scooting along among the gasses collecting
samples as he went.
Only two minutes after he returned to Viper Doc make his report from
Sick Bay. “Skipper, Doc. Got a good reading. Sorry sir, that’s not hard alcohol.”
“Not hard alcohol sounds like it’s still potent. Is it drinkable?”
“Well, only if you like good dark beer.”
Roman and Boats looked at each other and smiled. “Beer?”
“Yipe. Tastes like a Killian.”
“You drank some?”
“Ah, sir. How else would I know what it tastes like?”
“Lt. Rivari, Chief Greene to the bridge, now.” The Captain put that out
over the ship’s intercom. “Boats, you better have thought up a way of bottling
the stuff.”
“Well, I was thinking of just trying to see if we could just drink all of it at
one time. Won’t have to save any then.”
Roman stared at his long time ship mate.
“Sir, if you won’t say it I will,” Pekin remarked. At the moment she was
not busy maintaining her position at Helm. “He’s full of shit.”
“I out rank you.”
“So? Anyone who thinks up an idea like that has to be drunk or full of it.
Since you haven’t had a chance to get pie-eyed, you’re full of it.”
Roman stopped laughing long enough to comment, “Both of you shut up.
Ah, our reliefs are here. . . . All hands, this is the Captain. As most of
you probably know by now that cloud is beer, drinkable. Boats is going to head
a team to fill any and all empty bottles we have. We will then head for the
Snakepit for a good party. No one is to have any of the beer til I say so. I am
not going to have a drunk crew.”
Rivari surprised everyone when he commented, “Party-pooper.”
#
Several hours later, Viper is just exiting the nova.
“General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands man your battle stations.
This is not a drill.”
“What have you got?” Roman asked as he took his station.
“Sir, Undead vessel, 010mark56 range 120k. Closing fast. Looks
destroyer size.”
“Boats, put this message out on all frequencies: Undead vessel. This is
the vessel on your 190mark24. Leave this area now and do not return. We are
charging weapons. THIS IS OUR BEER!”
Ten seconds later a surprised Boats reported.
“Sir, the vessel’s moving away.”
A minute later, “Sir, getting a message I think is from the Undead: We
know better than mess with a human’s beer.”
“What?” A bewildered Roman looked at his comms station. “How do they
know that?”
The Captain sat back in his chair to ponder the question. A minute later
he spoke. “Boats, you made a log entry on all this?”
“No sir. About to get on it right now.”
“Don’t. No way am I telling those drunks in Richmond where there’s an
endless supply of good beer.”
“Always thought you were a reasonable man.” Boats commented.
As Captain Roman reached over and turned on his monitor he wondered
what Doc had picked on all that fancy equipment down in the Science section
of Sick Bay. “Okay, I see a nova.”
“Wait one, I need to adjust this array. There.”
“Doc, why does that nova look different?”
“That sir is the 64 million dollar question. If we’ve got time, can we make
a run into that mess?”
“Just for something to do you want us to take a joy ride through a nova?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“Doc, what the hell you looking for?”
“Those colors are not normal for a nova. I want to check it out. I have a
strange feeling about that thing.”
“Mind enlightening me.”
“Sir, I ain’t joking. Those colors on the spectronameter matches what we
would see if we used that thing on alcohol.”
A pin could have been heard hitting the bridge’s deck.
“You want to run that by me again.”
“Sir, I think that nova’s got a lot of alcohol in it.”
“Is that normal? Can we drink it?”
“Not normal, but has happened on a small scale a couple of times. Won’t
know if it’s drinkable until we test it.”
Without a moment of hesitation Roman issued his order. “Helm, new
course 038mark15, maintain this speed. Once we enter the nova we’ll slow to
50k. . . . No Boats, you may not be relieved. You’ll remain on station. Let
one of the other chiefs get the stuff.”
“Ah, boss.”
“Relax, if that’s stuff’s drinkable, we’ll collect some. Screw naval regs. But
I will not have my crew getting drunk, especially not up here where we might
meet an Undead vessel.”
“Boss, trust your old chief. I can handle my alcohol.”
“Yeah right. By doing elbow exercises?”
“There’s another way?”
#
Slowly Viper entered the nova. Most of the crew were looking out one of
the portals either enjoying the beautiful potpourri of colors or looking to see if
there really was alcohol out there.
“Helm, course 000mark90 speed 50k. . . . Doc, Skipper, how’s the
show?”
“Not able to say. It’s looking more and more like alcohol, but I need to get
some samples before I can say for sure.”
“No problem, Doc. Get what you need to do a walk. Helm, park us inside
that dense cloud over there.”
Ten minutes later Doc was scooting along among the gasses collecting
samples as he went.
Only two minutes after he returned to Viper Doc make his report from
Sick Bay. “Skipper, Doc. Got a good reading. Sorry sir, that’s not hard alcohol.”
“Not hard alcohol sounds like it’s still potent. Is it drinkable?”
“Well, only if you like good dark beer.”
Roman and Boats looked at each other and smiled. “Beer?”
“Yipe. Tastes like a Killian.”
“You drank some?”
“Ah, sir. How else would I know what it tastes like?”
“Lt. Rivari, Chief Greene to the bridge, now.” The Captain put that out
over the ship’s intercom. “Boats, you better have thought up a way of bottling
the stuff.”
“Well, I was thinking of just trying to see if we could just drink all of it at
one time. Won’t have to save any then.”
Roman stared at his long time ship mate.
“Sir, if you won’t say it I will,” Pekin remarked. At the moment she was
not busy maintaining her position at Helm. “He’s full of shit.”
“I out rank you.”
“So? Anyone who thinks up an idea like that has to be drunk or full of it.
Since you haven’t had a chance to get pie-eyed, you’re full of it.”
Roman stopped laughing long enough to comment, “Both of you shut up.
Ah, our reliefs are here. . . . All hands, this is the Captain. As most of
you probably know by now that cloud is beer, drinkable. Boats is going to head
a team to fill any and all empty bottles we have. We will then head for the
Snakepit for a good party. No one is to have any of the beer til I say so. I am
not going to have a drunk crew.”
Rivari surprised everyone when he commented, “Party-pooper.”
#
Several hours later, Viper is just exiting the nova.
“General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands man your battle stations.
This is not a drill.”
“What have you got?” Roman asked as he took his station.
“Sir, Undead vessel, 010mark56 range 120k. Closing fast. Looks
destroyer size.”
“Boats, put this message out on all frequencies: Undead vessel. This is
the vessel on your 190mark24. Leave this area now and do not return. We are
charging weapons. THIS IS OUR BEER!”
Ten seconds later a surprised Boats reported.
“Sir, the vessel’s moving away.”
A minute later, “Sir, getting a message I think is from the Undead: We
know better than mess with a human’s beer.”
“What?” A bewildered Roman looked at his comms station. “How do they
know that?”
The Captain sat back in his chair to ponder the question. A minute later
he spoke. “Boats, you made a log entry on all this?”
“No sir. About to get on it right now.”
“Don’t. No way am I telling those drunks in Richmond where there’s an
endless supply of good beer.”
“Always thought you were a reasonable man.” Boats commented.