The New Era

Subject: Captain Schmidt

Species: Human

Species Description: Mammalian humanoid, no tail. 6'2" (1.87 m) avg height. 185 lbs (84 kg) avg weight. 170 year life expectancy.

Ship: USSS Strandhogg

Location: Classified

"So cap'n, this is probably gonna be a long one," Commander Henskin said casually. "Think we're in for the suck?"

A few eyebrows rose on the other officers as I looked at the former marine with the sort of deep apathy that can only be obtained by a severe lack of caffeination. Commander Henskin had taken advantage of a program that allows enlisted to become officers when they switch branches. Every now and then, he forgets that officers are supposed to speak a certain way, which can be a problem since he's my second-in-command.

"Posture and poise, Henskin," I reminded him. "But... When are we not?"

"Right, sorry sir. And when you're right, you're right," he chuckled.

"Think it's gonna be worse than other missions, sir?" Lieutenant Commander Yorvi asked.

The alumari navigator absentmindedly cleaned her carapace, betraying her nervousness. Actually, come to think of it, is an alumari exoskeleton considered a carapace? I'll have to look that up later.

"Well, this mission's going to be taking us into uncharted territory," I said as casually as possible. "Literally. The thing about uncharted territory is that it is full of possibilities. So, this COULD be the best mission we'll ever go on."

"Or the worst?"

"Correct."

"I-I see."

"Don't worry about it, Yorvi," Henskin intervened. "All we've got to do is try our best."

"Which is what we do by default, no?" I asked with a chuckle before looking around the room. "Where'd they put the coffee pot on this tug?"

"In the mess, sir," Lieutenant Bon answered.

I looked at the gont weapon's expert with a betrayed expression.

"Why's it in the mess?"

"That's where coffee goes, sir."

"Negative, lieutenant. Coffee goes in my cup and my cup goes with me."

"Well, I'm afraid this vessel does not come equipped with wait-staff, sir."

"I beg to differ. Ensign Likjo, a coffee please," I grinned at the urakari maintenance lead.

"Yes, sir. Any additives?" he asked.

"Two cubes of sugar and one cube of vanilla creamer. Thank you."

Likjo nodded, seemingly happy to be given the task, and hastily left the bridge. I'll admit that I had my doubts when I was told that there would be members of the Republic along for the ride, but the ones I've met seem amicable. Wasn't happy about the surprise meeting with the spider people, though. Damn glad I've got experience with the alumari, or I'd have shit myself.

"This ship's weird," Henskin muttered.

"What do you mean?" Bon asked.

"Everything about it is classified, right?"

"Pretty much," I replied.

"Then why are the aliens from the Republic on board? No offense, guys."

Some of the sensor techs were from various Republic species, and waved passively to indicate that no offense was taken.

"Well aren't we allied with the Republic? Why wouldn't they be here?" Bon asked.

"Well, we're also allied with some other aliens, right? They're not here," Henskin countered.

"I can't say that I know the exact reasons behind it, but I'm able to mentally make it make sense," I said. "The Republic is the closest thing we have to a near-peer in the whole galaxy thus far. As such, the US needs to know if it can trust the Republic. A spy-ship is a perfect way to determine whether that trust can exist. If the Republic has a ship like this in a few years, we know for certain they can't be trusted."

"Why's a spy-ship perfect?" Henskin asked with a confused expression. "We don't want them to have this kind of tech, do we?"

"A spy-ship's design is pretty signature. If you change too much of what you're copying from, it's not going to work right," I replied, rubbing my temples. "So if the Republic releases a new ship based on this design, it's going to be obvious where their inspiration came from. Plus, this ship doesn't have much in the way of weapons, armor, or shields. So even if they copy it bow to stern and deck to keel, they aren't going to see many improvements over their current versions of those technologies."

"If it helps dissuade your concerns, there was a loyalty test when we were chosen for this assignment," an isolan sensor tech added. "Shortly after we received our orders, we were approached by shady individuals offering tons of money to spy on you and steal technical schematics. Turns out, those guys were working for the government and were weeding out undesirables."

The other Republic sensor technicians nodded in agreement.

"That sounds like something Omega would pull," I chuckled.

"I didn't have to," the AI said from my seat's speaker. "The Republic thought of it all on their own. Fun fact, less than two percent of their chosen candidates failed that test. The last time we did something like that, about fifteen percent failed."

"So... We're less trustworthy than they are?" Henskin asked.

"Not really. While the data may seem to suggest that, it isn't particularly comprehensive. For instance, I don't know how much each individual was offered, which species they were, or even how financially stable they were. All of these variables would likely impact an individuals likeliness to betray confidence, yet these variables weren't accounted for with either test," Omega said. "So all we can say for certain is that more members of the US military were untrustworthy for that particular test."

"Yeah, very interesting," I said, stifling a yawn. "Are we ready to go?"

"Not yet, but soon. Keep an eye on your terminal."

With an absentminded nod, I leaned back in my chair.

"So are all of you ensigns?" Henskin asked the isolan sensor tech.

"No, I'm a lieutenant," he chuckled. "That's higher than ensign, right? I'm not used to your ranking system, yet."

In the interest of easing confusion, the brass got together and assigned all of the Republic crew US ranks. Instead of easing confusion, though, it just seemed to push it onto their side of the aisle. I watched passively as Henskin and the isolan chatted about ranks for a while, but perked up when a familiar, warm, and absolutely lovely smell caught my nose.

"Here's your coffee, sir," Likjo said, giving me the precious plastic goblet.

"Thanks," I said and immediately sipped the elixir.

A rush of warmth slid down my throat and my brain almost immediately woke up. I nodded at Likjo, who returned to his station. After another few gulps of coffee, I felt reinvigorated. To say I'm addicted to caffeine is an understatement. If it weren't for my need to sleep, I would be caffeinated at all hours. I find it hard to think without it.

Of course, this addiction wasn't a new thing. It's been carefully cultivated over a long and arduous career as a scout. I've had to replace many nights of sleep with coffee to get my job done.

"You know, sir, they've got energy drinks that you can stow in your chair-fridge," Henskin pointed out.

"Not as good as coffee," I shook my head dismissively. "If I drank energy drinks I'd overdo it. Being over-caffeinated is just as bad as being under-caffeinated, maybe even worse. The trick is to find a perfect balance and maintain it. Plus, I like my drinks warm and energy drinks taste disgusting when they're not cold."

"Well, they aren't going to let you bring the coffee pot in here."

"Don't need them to let me. I'm a stealth specialist," I grinned.

My antics were rewarded with a few chuckles from the bridge crew.

"So, have you all served together before?" Ensign Likjo asked.

"Yes," I replied. "Henskin's been my second-in-command for a couple years now, and Yorvi joined us about... What, six months ago?"

"Eight months, sir" Yorvi corrected me.

"I'm the new one," Bon added. "I'd barely got my stuff aboard the USSS Defiant before they reassigned us. And unlike our last ship, this one has barely any weaponry. I suspect I'm going to be scratching my haunches for most of the mission."

"You would be anyway," Henskin laughed. "The whole point of a scout is to avoid contact with the enemy while observing them. On most ships your job is integral, but on scout ships you're a 'just in case' measure."

"Yeah," the gont sighed.

"Most US ships that I've seen can take one hell of a beating, and dish it out, too. But you said this one has less shields and such?" the isolan sensor tech from earlier asked.

"Yes," I answered. "You'll find that the United Systems has an 'all in' mentality when it comes to our ships. As such, since this ship is for scouting, it isn't equipped for a fight. It was designed with keeping a low profile in mind, and so it has the bare minimum when it comes to armor, shields, and weapons. Just enough to give us time to run if we're spotted."

"Needless to say, we'll be trying to avoid any action," Henskin said.

My terminal beeped with a notification, and everyone turned to look at me as I opened it. Launch orders. I forwarded the destination to Lt. Commander Yorvi.

"Alright, looks like it's time to go. Prepare the FTLD and the buoys. When you're ready," I nodded at the alumari.

"Yes, sir," she said. "Fleet-com synchronized. Jumping in three... two... one..."