The Many Deaths of Joe Buckley by Assorted Baen authors, Barflies Page B
Authors: Assorted Baen authors, Barflies
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spewing herself into the void like a fleeting nova, the only casualty of the three-squadron strike on the battlecruisers.
There were no survivors.
Mission of Honor
DAVID WEBER
“This is the sixth Joseph Buckley they’ve built,” she said, “and I’ve got to wonder why even Sollies haven’t learned from that much history. It hasn’t been exactly the luckiest name in the SLN’s history.”
“Well, fair’s fair, Cindy,” Michelle pointed out. “They didn’t name any of them for the luckiest scientist in history, either.”
“Is that your understatement for the day, Ma’am?” Lecter asked, and this time Adenauer chuckled, too, as the name finally clicked for her, as well.
Dr. Joseph Buckley had been a major figure in the development of the original impeller drive on Beowulf in the thirteenth century. Unhappily, he hadn’t been one of the more fortunate figures. He’d been a critical part of the original developmental team in 1246, but he’d had a reputation among his peers even then for being as erratic as he was brilliant, and he’d been determined to prove it was accurate. Although Adrienne Warshawski was to develop the Warshawski sail only twenty-seven years later, Buckley had been too impatient to wait around. Instead, he’d insisted that with the proper adjustment, the impeller wedge itself could be safely inserted into a hyper-space gravity wave.
Although several of his contemporaries had acknowledged the theoretical brilliance of his work, none had been prepared to endorse his conclusions. Unfazed by his peers’ lack of confidence, Buckley—whose considerable store of patents had made him a wealthy man—had designed and built his own test vessel, the Dahak , named for a figure out of Babylonian mythology. With a volunteer crew embarked, he’d set out to demonstrate the validity of his work.
The attempt, while spectacular, had not been a success. In fact, the imagery which had been recorded by the Dahak ’s escorts still turned up in slow motion in HD compilations of the most awe-inspiring disaster footage in galactic history.
While Buckley undeniably deserved to be commemorated alongside such other greats as Warshawski and Radhakrishnan, and despite the huge body of other work he’d left behind, it was the dramatic nature of his demise for which he was best remembered. And his various namesakes in SLN service had fared little better than he himself had. Of the current ship’s predecessors, only one had survived to be withdrawn from service and decommissioned.
“Actually, only three of them were lost on active service, Cindy,” Michelle pointed out.
“Four, if you count the battlecruiser, Ma’am,” Lecter argued respectfully.
“Well, all right. I’d forgotten about her.” Michelle shrugged. “Still, I don’t think it’s exactly fair to blame the ‘Buckley Curse’ for a ship lost ‘to causes unknown,’ though.”
“Why? Because having witnesses makes it more final? Or because faulty fusion bottles and wedge-on-wedge collisions are more spectacular?”
“They’re certainly more in keeping with the original’s final voyage,” Michelle pointed out.
“All right, I’ll grant that much,” Lecter agreed. “And, actually, I suppose losing only four of them—or three, if we go with your list—in the better part of seven hundred T-years probably isn’t really proof the Curse exists. And I’m not an especially superstitious gal myself. But having said all that, I wouldn’t care to serve aboard one of them! And especially not”—her smile disappeared and her eyes darkened—“if I was sailing into what promised to be the ugliest war my navy’d ever fought.”
“Neither would I,” Michelle acknowledged. “On the other hand, she doesn’t think that’s what she’s doing, now does she?”
* * *
SLNS Joseph Buckley lurched indescribably as the Manticoran missiles detonated and X-ray lasers ripped at her massive armor.
Thick as that armor was, it was no
There were no survivors.
Mission of Honor
DAVID WEBER
“This is the sixth Joseph Buckley they’ve built,” she said, “and I’ve got to wonder why even Sollies haven’t learned from that much history. It hasn’t been exactly the luckiest name in the SLN’s history.”
“Well, fair’s fair, Cindy,” Michelle pointed out. “They didn’t name any of them for the luckiest scientist in history, either.”
“Is that your understatement for the day, Ma’am?” Lecter asked, and this time Adenauer chuckled, too, as the name finally clicked for her, as well.
Dr. Joseph Buckley had been a major figure in the development of the original impeller drive on Beowulf in the thirteenth century. Unhappily, he hadn’t been one of the more fortunate figures. He’d been a critical part of the original developmental team in 1246, but he’d had a reputation among his peers even then for being as erratic as he was brilliant, and he’d been determined to prove it was accurate. Although Adrienne Warshawski was to develop the Warshawski sail only twenty-seven years later, Buckley had been too impatient to wait around. Instead, he’d insisted that with the proper adjustment, the impeller wedge itself could be safely inserted into a hyper-space gravity wave.
Although several of his contemporaries had acknowledged the theoretical brilliance of his work, none had been prepared to endorse his conclusions. Unfazed by his peers’ lack of confidence, Buckley—whose considerable store of patents had made him a wealthy man—had designed and built his own test vessel, the Dahak , named for a figure out of Babylonian mythology. With a volunteer crew embarked, he’d set out to demonstrate the validity of his work.
The attempt, while spectacular, had not been a success. In fact, the imagery which had been recorded by the Dahak ’s escorts still turned up in slow motion in HD compilations of the most awe-inspiring disaster footage in galactic history.
While Buckley undeniably deserved to be commemorated alongside such other greats as Warshawski and Radhakrishnan, and despite the huge body of other work he’d left behind, it was the dramatic nature of his demise for which he was best remembered. And his various namesakes in SLN service had fared little better than he himself had. Of the current ship’s predecessors, only one had survived to be withdrawn from service and decommissioned.
“Actually, only three of them were lost on active service, Cindy,” Michelle pointed out.
“Four, if you count the battlecruiser, Ma’am,” Lecter argued respectfully.
“Well, all right. I’d forgotten about her.” Michelle shrugged. “Still, I don’t think it’s exactly fair to blame the ‘Buckley Curse’ for a ship lost ‘to causes unknown,’ though.”
“Why? Because having witnesses makes it more final? Or because faulty fusion bottles and wedge-on-wedge collisions are more spectacular?”
“They’re certainly more in keeping with the original’s final voyage,” Michelle pointed out.
“All right, I’ll grant that much,” Lecter agreed. “And, actually, I suppose losing only four of them—or three, if we go with your list—in the better part of seven hundred T-years probably isn’t really proof the Curse exists. And I’m not an especially superstitious gal myself. But having said all that, I wouldn’t care to serve aboard one of them! And especially not”—her smile disappeared and her eyes darkened—“if I was sailing into what promised to be the ugliest war my navy’d ever fought.”
“Neither would I,” Michelle acknowledged. “On the other hand, she doesn’t think that’s what she’s doing, now does she?”
* * *
SLNS Joseph Buckley lurched indescribably as the Manticoran missiles detonated and X-ray lasers ripped at her massive armor.
Thick as that armor was, it was no
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