Nellie and the Nanites Ch.16

Chapter 16

Flying Saucers and Bad Coffee

Nellie looked around the room and couldn’t help but chuckle. Even on a flying saucer, the fucking room was the same. She had seen several different races on the ship as she was led through the halls to be interviewed.

They called it an interview, but she was cuffed and under armed guard, so…

Lucy swore she could remove the cuffs and get her out at a single thought, so Nellie was trying to be relaxed about the whole thing.

She was currently distracting herself by focusing on the races she had seen on the way here. The greys, much taller than Earth portrayed them, were very much a thing. As were the little green men. On her way past, she tried a ‘hey Paul,’ but no one got the joke.

It was so difficult to be sarcastic when no one got the references.

More interestingly, she was reasonably certain she had seen an orc. How many of the legends from Earth were actually aliens on a flyby?

She sighed, feeling the tension starting to creep back into her body. Someone was apparently waiting for that; as the door suddenly opened, a grey alien, complete with big eyes, strode into the room. Pop culture made them out to be short. These aliens were not short. This one was easily seven feet. Like everyone she had seen on board, he wore a black uniform with yellow notes here and there.

There was an emblem on his shoulder, which she didn’t recognize, and what had to be the local equivalent of a police badge on his chest. It was a Diamond shape, with a half-moon cut out.

“Captain Bonne-Chance, thank you for waiting.” The officer sat across from her and shuffled a set of tablets around.

Nellie fidgeted while she waited for them to settle. “Call me Nellie,” She said.

“No, Captain.” The officer finally finished sorting things on the desk and stared at her.

Nellie stared back. Time stretched on, neither of them speaking.

“Thank you, Captain.” The alien got up and left the room.

Two hours later, they returned and did the same thing again.

Another few hours passed. Nellie was starting to feel the tension in her eyes and knew she couldn’t hold out much longer.

The door opened, and again, the same alien came into the room, fussed with his tablets, and started staring.

Forty minutes passed, and a buzzer went off. The officer laughed once, a short bark of laughter, and left the room.

A minute later, two brackta officers escorted her out of the room and through the ship again. This time they went to what looked like a conference room. She saw the battle she had fought being replayed over and over on a screen.

“Sorry about the wait,” A tired voice said. “Generating the replay from the various surviving recorders took time.” The owner of the voice was a man with greying hair, an exasperated face, and elven ears. His eyes were deep blue orbs with no pupil she could see. “I’m Sector Sherrif Bartlett. Please have a seat.”

Nellie shuffled over and sat down in one of the chairs. Once she managed to get comfortable, Bartlett looked up.

“Why did you not notify Sector Security of the threat when you noted the trap?” Bartlett asked.

“I didn’t think there would be time to get a message to Fig-7, let alone a security force. How do I even contact sector security in this place, anyway?” Nellie asked. It had never even occurred to her to call the cops, so she never found out how to do it.

“You are new to the sector, then?” Bartlett ignored her question.

“I am,” Nellie said simply.

“Which sector are you native to?” Bartlet pulled up some information.

“No idea; I didn’t end up in this sector on purpose,” Nellie answered honestly.

“Which sector is your home world in?” Bartlett sighed.

“No idea; no one ever told me.” Again truthful if misleading.

“What have your activities been since you arrived?” Bartlett asked.

“I fixed up a derelict ship that I found myself dumped on in order to survive, then began taking whatever work I could. A couple of jobs for MOG-5 led me to Fig-7, and then I started working out of the foundry.” Nellie did her best to stick to the truth while leaving out the important bits. It was a skill learned in her youth. Thank you again, Nuns.

“Names of the people who dumped you on the derelict?” Bartlett asked.

“They never said. I was abducted, then abandoned.” Nellie shrugged.

“Ransom gone wrong, no doubt.” Bartlett looked at her. “Were you a military officer of your world?”

“No, I was a… data entry clerk,” Nellie said, having no idea if that would make sense to him.

“Did you have police or military training or any form?” Bartlett asked.

“None, why?” Nellie asked.

“Your actions during the battle suggest a strong tactical mind,” Bartlett said, waving it away as if it was of no interest.

“Thanks,” Nellie shrugged. “I just did the best I could with the limited options available.”

“Your initial transmission included a pre-combat assessment that covered escape, evasion, and avoidance, all being blocked. What made you send that information?” Bartlett looked up again.

“I was taught to avoid violence unless absolutely necessary.” Nellie shrugged. “Also, who engages a bunch of ships on their own?”

“That is, in fact, the crux of the matter.” Bartlett looked up at her. “By your own admission, you are new to the life of a spacer. Yet you not only fought a vastly superior force, not just surviving but defeating your enemy with only minor damage.” He looked over at the looped battle replay. “Some of those moves would not occur to someone without extensive knowledge of space combat.”

“Get real,” Nellie chuckled nervously. “I got most of that watching old Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica episodes.”

“What are these episodes?” Bartlett asked.

“An entertainment medium?” Nellie tried. “Made-up stories that are replayed for the entertainment of others. Both shows feature extensive space battles. Well, more in Galactica than Star Trek.” She smiled at the memory of comfy afternoons and nights curled up in front of her favorite shows. “Star Trek is more about using your knowledge to solve difficult problems, hopefully avoiding battles.”

“Your society uses combat recreations as entertainment?” Bartlett looked horrified.

“I guess… sort of?” Nellie said. “They aren’t real recreations, more inspired by or theoretical battles.”

“War theory as an entertainment medium!” Bartlett shook his head, “And when were you first exposed to this?”

“I was about five the first time I watched an episode of Star Trek, I guess?” Nellie said. “The Nuns used to put it on for us every night.”

“Nuns? Who are they?” Bartlett asked, aghast.

“A religious order of women,” Nellie said.

“A religious order…” Bartlett shook his head. “And you don’t know which sector you come from?”

“No, I just know that it’s on the other side of the galaxy,” Nellie said quietly.

“Good!” Bartlett shook his head. “The last thing we need is a bunch of religious nutcases trained in combat from five years old running all over the place!”

“I think you misunderstand things,” Nellie said carefully. “The shows I mentioned are about the search for peaceful solutions.”

“With warships?” Bartlett snorted.

Nellie tried to explain, and Bartlett tried to understand. Ultimately, it took several MORE hours before he finally got what she meant. He now had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the shows she had mentioned, and the fact they were complete fiction didn’t seem to mollify him any.

Bartlett’s suit comm pinged, and he looked at it for a moment.

“We are approaching Fig-7.” He nodded. “That will be all.”

“Am I under arrest?” Nellie asked tiredly.

“No. Why?” Bartlett asked.

Nellie stared at him. “I’ve been handcuffed for ten hours! Kept in an interrogation room for most of that time. No food, no water!”

“So?” Bartlett asked.

Nellie just gaped at him.

“You are free to go; someone will escort you back to your ship.” He spoke quietly into his comm for a second, and the handcuffs opened and dropped away. A  second later, the door opened, and two officers escorted her back to the Bly.

Once she was on board, she checked everything over, making a show of it even though Lucy told her everything was fine.

Nellie did not answer Lucy out loud, anxious about accidentally revealing the nanite AI.

“Bly’s Fortitude, please vacate the bay,” A bored voice came over the comm.

Grumbling the whole way, Nellie took the controls and used the gravity drive and thrusters to back them out of whatever bay they were in.

“Bly’s Fortitude, events have been decided as self-defense, no charges. No penalties.” The comm crackled as the enormous ship rapidly accelerated, vanishing into the distance and leaving the Bly floating in space, Fig-7 in the distance.

“Putain! Assholes!” Nellie yelled.

“We were cleared of all charges,” Lucy pointed out. “And this got us back to Fig-7 much faster.”

“Please don’t be reasonable while I am having a moment!” Nellie said before returning to screaming obscenities for a full minute.

“Feel better?” Lucy asked when Nellie ran out of breath.

“Actually, yes,” Nellie said, finding the release cathartic. “Set course for Fig-7,” Nellie called. “I’m getting a coffee.”

=============

“Bly’s Fortitude to Fig-7, request permission to dock for repairs,” Nellie called over the comm.

“Roger that, Bly. Approach path alpha, repair bay four, central core.” Fig-7 responded.

“Thanks, Fig-7, making approach now, Bly out.” Nellie focused and put her hands on the controls. This was the graduating lesson to pilot the ship by sensors safely into the repair dock of Fig-7.

“I’m right here if you get into trouble,” Lucy reassured her.

Nellie concentrated, watching the distance readouts from the channel markers in three dimensions. It was a complex balancing act to keep the ship moving, balanced, and aligned as it was gently knocked off course again and again by the engine wash of passing ships. She also had to keep their speed constant while the clouds of smoke and dust created an everchanging drag on it.

They encountered a single issue: a large ship passed with an engine straying onto the approach path. Nellie scanned the area and rolled out of the way and back again without deviating from the path too far.

She was concentrating so hard that she jumped when the ping came to tell her the repair bay doors were opening.

Nellie fired the thrusters, bringing the Bly to a temporary stop as the giant door opened. Once it was clear, she rolled the ship and backed into the bay, finding she needed to spin the ship by twenty degrees to approach at the right angle to land.

Finally, the Bly touched down. Lucy cheered and applauded.

“Excellent!” She beamed. “A perfect approach and landing!” She practically glowed. “That is amazing, Nellie, really amazing! You even dealt with the unexpected lane drifter on your own.”

“Thanks,” Nellie laughed, “I had a great teacher.”

“Naturally,” Lucy said. “Now, you go get sorted with whatever Crush and the others approaching want, and I’ll have a surprise for you once I finish the repairs.”

Nellies smile faltered as she exited the Bly. She was glad to see Crush but somewhat dismayed to see Prit-Mal and Brix with him as well.

“Captain! Are you well?” Crush asked as soon as she was on the deck plates.

“It was pretty close, but yes, I’m good,” Nellie said.

“May we have a word, Captain?” Prit-Mal asked politely while Brix loomed behind her. “At the security office, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Crush-Cha wheeled and began to protest, but Nellie waved him down.

“Sure, I have some time while my robot repairs the ship.” Nellie sighed.

“This way, please.” Brix led the way to a comfy-looking office with a couch and a pair of armchairs aside from the usual desk.

Brix gestured to one of the chairs, and she sat across from Prit-mal, who sat primly on the very edge of the sofa.

Brix made three cups of what smelled like Hyper-Drive and brought them over before taking a seat on the sofa.

“My own blend,” Brix said as he handed one to her. “I feel a drink always helps these things along.”

“What things?” Nellie asked, sipping the coffee and trying not to wince at the taste. It reminded her of burnt grounds and cheap syrups.

“We are here to update you on your case against the MOG-5 station,” Prit-Mal said. “Events happened quickly after we received your message and passed it along to Sector Security.”

“We initiated proceedings on your behalf, for damages, alongside recommending criminal charges against the operators.” Brix-Tal took over, “Our initial idea was that the money from the case could purchase a replacement craft for you, should you manage to survive.”

“Once we reviewed the post-battle situation a bit more thoroughly,” Prit said anxiously, “We felt the case was still worth pursuing; however, that will no longer be possible.”

“Why?” Nellie asked, still reeling.

“Sector Sherrif Bartlett is not a man to do things by halves.” Brix sighed, “He issued warrants on every single worker on the station. They have been taken for questioning.”

“I’m afraid Brenda managed to slip away in the chaos,” Prit growled. “I have my own people looking for her, but she has an advantage.” Prit took a deep breath, “Several blank IDs were found in her office.”

Nellie tried not to freeze up but couldn’t help a small flinch.

“I see you know what that means,” Brix sighed. “Those IDs are only used by Insurrectionists or pirates.”

“Exactly,” Prit said. “And all this time, she was right under my nose.”

“With her in the wind, I am afraid they are unlikely to find anyone to pay the compensation,” Brix said. “We have the pay for your last job, of course.” He held out a pad, which Nellie imprinted automatically.

“Got it!” Lucy whispered in her ear.

“I’d offer you salvage rights to the ships in the ore belt,” Prit said, “But I’m afraid they were all taken by the Sector Security ship.”

“That’s okay,” Nellie smiled thinly, “If I never see that asteroid field again, it’ll be too soon.”

After another few minutes of sipping the terrible coffee, Nellie headed back to the Bly. She felt better as soon as her booted feet clanked onto her own deck plates.

Was she becoming agoraphobic? Or was it that everyone outside of her ship was a massive asshole?

“How are we doing, Lucy?” Nellie asked, seeing the robotic body working on a support beam in the rear of the hold. Small robots were crawling all over, welding, reshaping, and cleaning.

“I deployed the repair robotics,” Lucy said, one eye blinking off for a second in a wink, “We should be good to go in another couple of hours.”

“Great, the only question is where?” Nellie sighed

“I think I can help with that, Captain,” Crush-Cha called. He was standing on the very edge of the hold and holding a little square of plastic.

“You can come in, Crush.” Nellie rolled her eyes as the man carefully stepped on board. He carefully picked his way across the floor, eyeing the little robots warily.

“I have something for you, Captain.” He held out the plastic card.

“Thanks; what is it?” Nellie asked.

“It is your Captain’s license.” Crush-Cha beamed. “Awarded by the Security Chief only minutes ago.”

“Just act excited and say thank you,” Lucy whispered. “I’ll explain later, but this is BIG.”

“That’s amazing, Crush-Cha. Thank you.” She grinned and took the plastic card. It was black and yellow with a holographic image of her face and a string of complex characters and letters after it.

“Once you have had time to process that, I’ll return with some job offers.” Crush-Cha bowed and hurried away.

“What did he mean process it?” Nellie asked.

“I’ll do it,” Lucy said, looking around before appearing as a hologram once she was sure no one was looking. She swiped her hand through the card.

Rank and Class: Captain Obtained!

Trading License Granted!

Scavenging License Granted!

Search and Rescue License Granted!

“And here is the surprise!” Lucy winked and swiped the card again.

Basic Piloting License Granted!

Advanced Pilot’s License Granted!

“Congratulations!” Lucy said and vanished back into the robotic body.

“Wow, so what does any of that actually mean?” Nellie asked.

“Well, you are now a recognized and licensed Ship Captain with Trading, Scavenging, and SandR licenses. It is the difference between being someone who owns a ship and being a recognized professional.”

“So I just got promoted?” Nellie asked, “Also, how did I get the pilot one?”

“Yes, you got promoted.” Lucy chuckled, “And I recorded your approach and landing and sent it off for review. They were very impressed.”

“Thanks, Lucy!” Nellie said. “I really earned the advanced license? Was it from avoiding that other ship?”

“Umm, no,” Lucy said, and the robot began to edge back a little.

“So what was it?” Nellie asked.

“Hand me that tool over there?” Lucy asked, and Nellie did, only to turn back and see the robot was powered down.

“Lucy?” She asked.

“So the advanced pilot’s license is for flying without computer assistance,” Lucy said in her ear. “Apparently, they don’t do that anymore.”

“I knew it!” Nellie said. “But I can now.” She added smugly.

“You’re not mad?” Lucy asked as her robot powered back up.

“No, I actually understand what I am doing now. It was worth it.”

“Captain?” Crush-Cha was once more at the cargo doors, looking apprehensively at the little robots.

Nellie relented and went over to him this time.

“Captain Bonne-Chance, reporting for duty!” She grinned.