painful. The worst part is this tendency to jump to absurd conclusions rather than assuming the most likely scenario is the correct one until proven otherwise. Let me explain: you’ve uncovered evidence that some rock rat or another has flown out there and tried to start mining illegally. From your own admissions, they carry these embryonic trade goods. Don’t you find the most likely scenario is that the pilot suffered a mishap, and he lost part of his cargo? We can only hope he lost his life as well.”
Gritting my teeth, I listened to the rest of his transmission.
“Here are your new orders: immediately approve the site for mining and bring your ship home. We’ll have the tube you found analyzed—although it’s obviously pointless. Altair out.”
Glaring and muttering to myself, I removed the mind-link and examined my board. Working with rapid swipes and tapping motions, I accessed the online regulation books. After a few moments of perusal, I found what I was looking for.
For the first time in hours, a smile graced my features.
“What’s the good news from Altair , Skipper?” Rumbold asked. He’d been watching me carefully throughout the exchange, and I could tell he was concerned about my focused behavior.
I turned to him and flashed him a toothy grin.
“There is indeed good news, Rumbold,” I said. “Excellent news, in fact. Did you know the salvage identification bylaws of 2125 stipulate that only the senior officer present at a discovery site can legally determine its status?”
Rumbold’s expression became cautious. “I…uh…I’m not sure how that applies to our current situation, sir.”
“Use your imagination, man,” I responded with enthusiasm. “It means that Singh can’t make an inspection determination from Earth orbit. I, without a doubt, am the senior officer present. I’m going to mark this find’s status as undetermined. Plot a course for home.”
Rumbold did as I asked glumly. He didn’t seem to be enjoying my newfound regulatory standing.
It was about three hours later that we began a long, slow burn back toward the inner planets. We watched as our fuel supply dwindled, along with the local presence of Jupiter.
Some six hours after that, another communication came in from Altair . It just so happened that I was sleeping at that point. Rumbold tapped me awake.
“Sir?” he hissed, his eyes wide and staring. “Sir, it’s Singh again. He sounds upset.”
Rolling into a sitting position on my seat and stretching, I activated my mind-link again and played Singh’s message directly into my skull. He wasn’t happy, just as Rumbold had indicated.
“Lieutenant Commander Sparhawk,” he began sternly. “I’ve been monitoring all transmissions from your quadrant to Guard Command, just in case you decided to send your report in directly. I’ve yet to receive any updates from your expedition. Your original report has still not been amended. Fix the situation immediately. Singh out.”
Chewing over my options, I drank stimulating fluids laced with glucose and caffeine to wake myself up. I realized that I couldn’t ignore him completely.
Sprucing up my appearance as much as possible, I addressed the camera in my console formally and spoke to it.
“Captain Singh,” I said. “Unfortunately, I’m unable to comply with your wishes. As the senior officer present during the inspection of the object in question, I was not able to classify it as innocuous, nor was I able to determine exactly what it was. Additionally, we’ve now expended too much of our remaining fuel supply to return to the object for further investigation. My report to Guard Command must, therefore, stand unedited. I thank you for your concern, and I apologize for any misunderstanding.”
Nearly two hours passed as the message flew at the speed of light toward Earth. I imagined that a reply would be transcribed and transmitted in return, but I could only wait to hear what it was.
During that time, my
Gritting my teeth, I listened to the rest of his transmission.
“Here are your new orders: immediately approve the site for mining and bring your ship home. We’ll have the tube you found analyzed—although it’s obviously pointless. Altair out.”
Glaring and muttering to myself, I removed the mind-link and examined my board. Working with rapid swipes and tapping motions, I accessed the online regulation books. After a few moments of perusal, I found what I was looking for.
For the first time in hours, a smile graced my features.
“What’s the good news from Altair , Skipper?” Rumbold asked. He’d been watching me carefully throughout the exchange, and I could tell he was concerned about my focused behavior.
I turned to him and flashed him a toothy grin.
“There is indeed good news, Rumbold,” I said. “Excellent news, in fact. Did you know the salvage identification bylaws of 2125 stipulate that only the senior officer present at a discovery site can legally determine its status?”
Rumbold’s expression became cautious. “I…uh…I’m not sure how that applies to our current situation, sir.”
“Use your imagination, man,” I responded with enthusiasm. “It means that Singh can’t make an inspection determination from Earth orbit. I, without a doubt, am the senior officer present. I’m going to mark this find’s status as undetermined. Plot a course for home.”
Rumbold did as I asked glumly. He didn’t seem to be enjoying my newfound regulatory standing.
It was about three hours later that we began a long, slow burn back toward the inner planets. We watched as our fuel supply dwindled, along with the local presence of Jupiter.
Some six hours after that, another communication came in from Altair . It just so happened that I was sleeping at that point. Rumbold tapped me awake.
“Sir?” he hissed, his eyes wide and staring. “Sir, it’s Singh again. He sounds upset.”
Rolling into a sitting position on my seat and stretching, I activated my mind-link again and played Singh’s message directly into my skull. He wasn’t happy, just as Rumbold had indicated.
“Lieutenant Commander Sparhawk,” he began sternly. “I’ve been monitoring all transmissions from your quadrant to Guard Command, just in case you decided to send your report in directly. I’ve yet to receive any updates from your expedition. Your original report has still not been amended. Fix the situation immediately. Singh out.”
Chewing over my options, I drank stimulating fluids laced with glucose and caffeine to wake myself up. I realized that I couldn’t ignore him completely.
Sprucing up my appearance as much as possible, I addressed the camera in my console formally and spoke to it.
“Captain Singh,” I said. “Unfortunately, I’m unable to comply with your wishes. As the senior officer present during the inspection of the object in question, I was not able to classify it as innocuous, nor was I able to determine exactly what it was. Additionally, we’ve now expended too much of our remaining fuel supply to return to the object for further investigation. My report to Guard Command must, therefore, stand unedited. I thank you for your concern, and I apologize for any misunderstanding.”
Nearly two hours passed as the message flew at the speed of light toward Earth. I imagined that a reply would be transcribed and transmitted in return, but I could only wait to hear what it was.
During that time, my
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