Number 20: "Mutineers"

Deep Space, The Dead Zone
Upspin of Pythagoras
Thrynn Frigate Kryssthoggr

Captain Hthssbr and her band of adolescent officers burst onto the bridge with all the fury of their youth. The bridge was empty. Brandishing heavy blasters, the hissing Thrynn lizards scrambled around the guardrails and consoles. Nothing. For a split second Hthssbr stood rigid, the shock written across her face. It was only a brief instant, but a few of the mutineers glimpsed her off balance. They could smell a faint waft of her uncertainty. For the first time, Hthssbr understood Captain SshT'k. That was inconvenient. "Find them!" she shrieked.

Deep Space, The Dead Zone
Aboard ISS Belfast Windfall

As it turned out, the nearest relay booster for communications wasn't a buoy at all. It was a Veloxi trawler that had wandered into neutral territory. "Grix, set us up in a holding pattern, about three hundred kilometers square," said Biggs. "Mack, open a frequency." He paused while the Lieutenant struggled to establish a link with the distant vessel.

"Okay, sir, I've got an audio link, but visual is all chopped up." The acoustics filters did a decent job of blocking the static and background noise. "You're go, sir."

"This is Commander Biggs Hilsfar of ISS Belfast Windfall requesting a transmission boost per the Heaven agreement. Please respond." Routing the communication via the Veloxi vessel would take a considerable amount of time off their trip. There was no response for several moments. "This is Command--"

"How doing ISS Belfast whatever?" The famous Veloxi loquaciousness drifted through the receiver in all its radiant glory. "No kidding long time none the see you. This is Veloxi ship Hixgrim’sv. Am certainly wanting the shyneum," said the Veloxi. The bridge let out a collective groan. Biggs threw his hands in the air and looked at the ceiling for mercy.

"Hixgrim’sv, this is Hilsfar. We're too far away for an energy transfer. Could you take a rain check?" There was another pause.

"No, no, Hilsfar ISS. None the funny stuff. No shyneum, no boost, Mr. peaceful exploration mission." Biggs was exasperated. He looked to Alowala who was tracking all the communications signals and voice rhythms. There wasn't much you could do with a Veloxi who wanted fuel. Alowala executed what amounted to a shrug.

Then Grx'bzzgah emerged from his navigation section and centered himself in front of the viewer. He turned the translator off. "Nrx bzzzzzgh hexm, hexm, Hexm, bo revka ix rifz bzzt vvvvvvVVV-- NX!" There was no pause this time.

"And so very well ISS. Transmit message on this the frequency. Standby for confirmation most assured." Everyone looked at Grx'bzzgah, except for Mack who was sending the news through the communications computer.

"Commander Grix," began Arella, flipping on the translator. "What exactly did you tell the good Captain, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I told him it was a sixth echelon priority communication," said Grx'bzzgah. Nobody believed that for a second, the sacred number six notwithstanding. Two hours later the transmission was confirmed.

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Next: "A Message"

Thanks to HunterZ, I'm having entirely too much fun with HTML--but that's it for a while. I'm going on a little vacation and Biggs and the crowd are going to be on the way back burner until I get back. So read GazWar, don't watch Voyager, and loiter at the Nebula Lounge.

"Hilsfar & Company: 'Cause I'm Leeeavin' on a Jet Plane..."