Long And Winding Road
“At no time are we ever in such complete possession of a journey, down to its last nook and cranny, as when we are busy with preparations for it.”
---Yukio Mishima
“All hands, we are lifting for the Illian system where we hope to pick up the trail of some most misfortunate Naud. Therefore we have just two weeks to make good out little yacht and outfit her with the additions her designers neglected to include as her basic equipment.” The Elf glanced over to Senta at the com, Mim and Yula, sitting on the back of her own chair as if it were their rightful positions as 'Assistant Captains,' followed the Elf's gaze wherever it fell. “Please advise the Port-master that we are ready to commence separation and egress from the station.”
While that was underway, the Elf stood up from the Captain's chair and settled herself at the helm. Mim and Yula slunk down onto the cushions of the vacated seat---right at home.
“Cleared, my Captain!” Senta announced.
“Releasing docking clamps and maneuvering to threshold,” the Elf recited her actions as she performed them. “All thrusters reverse and acquiring exit buoy guidance signals.”
The bridge view screen was filling with the vast star field as the station diminished and vanished from their sight. “Clearing perimeter beacons, preparing to wrinkle...” She looked up and smiled.
“To Illian!” and she punched the control for the wrinkle drive. The Huntress was enveloped in her little hurtling bubble of normal space as the wrinkling wave of velocity carried her on course for the next adventure. The Elf stood up after setting the helm to auto, and sat back down in her own chair. Mim and Yula leapt to the now vacant helm, expanding their domain and view.
“Well done, Captain!” Elenir and Jista both commended at once. Jista added, “So all those years of practicing behind Reia's back have paid off after all.”
The Elf looked pained, “What she didn't know didn't hurt her. More to the events at hand: We just made a historic open contact with an Alliance station and were welcomed, did routine business and were wished 'happy trails' upon our departure! That is the promise of a new future for our people we have for so long wished and which the Matriarch has hoped would transpire in our time.”
She reached over and stroked Mim who was tag-teaming Yula for the constant companionship of the Elf between the helm and Captain's chair. The Elf was content with the attentions of the two 'crew,' while Denalin had mixed feelings over the shift in loyalty. They were her cats... at least they were a gift to her, not the captain. But, she reasoned, if the cats made her own presence aboard the Huntress even a little more palatable to the company, so be it.
Ravena stood and requested, “Permission to leave the bridge, Captain. I have the grand chore ahead of me of remodeling our gardens, repotting, grafting and pollenating...”
“Certainly, oh chief of the green thumbs;” the Elf smiled.
Elenir followed suit, “And I should really get down to the galley and organize our pantry. Our restocking was more just a random stacking of goods---no rhyme or reason to it at all.”
The Elf nodded, “Permission granted.”
“Besides, our shipwrights will be needing a good series of meals to fulfill the Captain's schedule for their little project;” she justified.
Isin, at the science station continued to monitor the long range scanners for even a blip of indication that they might need to drop from wrinkle and investigate further clues of their prey's presence in the region. When her long range scanners were calibrated and routines set in, she did a perfunctory internal scan of the ship itself. 'No sense getting halfway to nowhere only to find we've brought aboard a pest or parasite...' What she saw however were neither of those. “Uh... Captain, would you take a look at these readings?” she said as evenly as she could manage. The Elf strode over to her station and followed Isin's gaze at the monitor in front of her.
“Well, well,” the Elf responded with a raised eyebrow, “very well packed for such an 'impromptu' change in travel plans...” She looked back toward the door to her ready room, “She was genuinely shocked, no mistake about that...”
Senta on the other hand, mused aloud, “I haven't watched a ship being built before...”
The Elf remarked tongue-in-cheek, “Is there a question in there somewhere?”
“Permission to...” Senta began.
The Elf just waved a hand across her face, “Go on. And while you're at it, do you think you can rig a video feed? I wouldn't mind watching their progress either.”
“Done and done!” Senta exclaimed and passed Denalin coming onto the bridge as she was going out.
“Permission to enter the bridge, Captain?” she said haltingly, unused to all the ship's protocols as yet.
“Certainly!” the Elf smiled. “Have a seat at the com. In fact, you might consider learning some of the ins and outs of that station. I should think as an experienced and successful negotiator, you'd make a sterling com officer---in addition to your primary duties as Guild Liaison, I mean.”
Denalin spread her hands over the glassy panels in front of her. “Oh, do you really think so?” Obviously flattered and pleased at the suggestion.
The Elf rose and went to stand behind her. Mim leapt to sit at Denalin's back, peering over her shoulder at the Com, while Yula remained guarding the Captain's chair. The Elf pointed out the functions of each of the controls, the properties and general arrangement of the panels and monitors, their usefulness and a few tricks of the trade as it were to their more arcane applications. Denalin was fascinated. A light blipped on and a voice came over the speaker in front of her. She was startled. “Did I touch something I shouldn't have?”
“Captain, you can test the video feed;” Senta's voice chirped.
The Elf pointed to one of the panels in front of Denalin and encouraged her with a nod of her head to activate the system.
Denalin touched a few of the buttons and the main viewer sprang from the morphing star field to a real-time view of their own hangar bay below. “Ooh! That was fun!” the Seranim chortled and settled into the com seat as if making it her new home. Mim had already done that.
Over the rest of the shift, the three left on the bridge watched the progress being enacted on the erstwhile stacks of disparate 'junk' as it gradually became the more integral hull and nacelles of an actual space yacht. It was like watching a documentary or cinematic production. Their friends at work, labored together like a crack team of experienced shipwrights. Which in reality, they were.
Senta approached Pim and asked a few questions. Pim then realized that they were 'on the air.' She looked up at the camera and waved, “Captain, we will be able to begin reintegrating ship's systems within the next couple days...”
Song and Reia looked around to see how they missed noticing the Captain entering the bay. Pim's finger wiggled up at the camera. “Oh!” Reia's grin was radiant. “Honestly Captain, that salvage guy didn't actually disassemble this baby part by piece. She's going to go back together a lot faster than we suspected at first...”
Song finished a little welding and added, “Pretty sloppy dismemberment, but so easy to repair. We're just having to be careful to keep conduits and such aligned... This is more like re-attaching severed limbs than ship-building...”
They turned back to the tasks at hand and seemed to ignore the camera after that. Isin asked, “Captain? If we only have you and Reia as pilots, who's going to fly the Huntress and who's going to fly that?”
The Elf smiled, “The thousand enrish question at last!” and she glanced over at a waiting Denalin, then back to a waiting Isin. “First things first, my sister. And who says Reia and I are the only qualified pilots aboard?”
“But...” Isin reviewed her knowledge of the others' skills and capabilities. A light began to glow behind her eyes. “Oh! Just because Elenir and Jista think it's beneath them to actually pilot...”
“They are two of the best there is!” the Elf congratulated.
At the end of shift, near to seven in the evening, the Elf made a general announcement that all hands should assemble in the galley for dinner. “We aren't always going to be able be together at one time for meals, so when we can, I would very much like for us to take advantage of the opportunity. Galley in fifteen!” Yula and Mim scampered from the bridge while she set the com to reroute activity to the remote and had the other stations set to stations-keeping, also ready for remote monitoring. To Denalin's delight, the Elf entrusted the com remote into her keeping. “Until Pim or Song can break themselves away from their pet project and give you a more thorough round of instruction...”
“Yes Ma'am!” Denalin grinned and they all headed down to the galley. The aromas of Elenir's cooking pulling them like a magnet a little quicker than they would otherwise have made the short walk. Mim and Yula were already waiting for them there.
“What are we going to call our new little ship?” Denalin asked innocently.
Elenir mused, “The naming of ships has a long and interesting history, and especially on Lascor. All of our vessels were the rejects, or salvaged, or in some cases commandeered from some other people---and always had to be re-named. We are more than a little proud of our ability to capture the essence of a ship and give her a most fitting name---and without exception far more apropos than the name she'd suffered under before.”
Denalin was listening attentively. Reia noticed that she was gazing, staring even, into the Elf's eyes. She leaned over to Denalin and whispered, “Intoxicating, isn't it?” Deni nodded absently.
“On the long hauls we made over the last several years, Jista, Song, Pim and I would do the exact same thing. It's like an addiction... So euphoric... the world becomes so perfect! It conjures in you the most loved, sensual, empowering, satisfying...” Denalin was nodding whole-hearted agreement, her eyes never leaving those of the Elf. Reia intimated, “But be careful. Staring into the eyes of a Lascorii is more addicting than any drug devised or refined---Even with the greater part of their atmosphere dampened down, their eyes can scramble your brains and before you realize it: you're a hopeless slave to their merest glance. In spite of realizing that fact; I know that has to be at least part of why we four would follow her to the gates of hell... Just a word to the wise...”
The Elf was talking, “...Actually, this ship, the Huntress and her elder sister the Reaper are the only two ships in our entire history, commissioned to be built from the ground up, if you will. And not, as the Chief explained, re-built as our little yacht is experiencing just now.”
“Amendment noted,” Elenir acknowledged and inclined her head to the Captain. “Be that as it may, Let's look at the possible names available to the Huntress's little girl now taking shape;” and she listed, “She was originally the premier yacht of her class, hand crafted by the best artisans the Nurlii can field...”
Reia added, “Many pieces of her original equipment were one off installations intended to enhance her handling, range and comfort...”
Song pointed out, “She's got the sturdiest exoskeleton ever fitted to a space yacht. That level of engineering typically only goes into the constellation-class vessels...”
Pim had to say, “And she's going to have the only cloaking device in the quadrant that even its makers won't be able to track or trace. And I'll have her able to cloak whether she's lifting, landing or wrinkling! Let's just see a Naud ship do that!”
Reia continued, “She needs three crew, and can accommodate a company of seven comfortably---not including the crew---for long range cruising. She has the classic lines of a racer, with the grace of a luxury liner. She should maneuver like a a ship half her size and out run the Huntress if it came to it...”
Denalin's eyes flickered back and forth between the speakers and her expression reflected her admiration of their professional observations. “Sounds like the Huntress's catikin is already preparing to vie with her mistress for the affections of the Elf.”
The chatter at the table ceased abruptly. Denalin looked around, “Was it something I said?”
Elenir held a quiet conference with her fellow Lascorii officers and the shipwrights. The Elf and Denalin were overtly excluded. “What gives gang?” the Elf had to know.
The impromptu conference ended as quickly as it began, Elenir spoke for them. “Captain, with your permission, we think we have the perfect name for Huntress's catikin, as Deni just referred to her.”
Denalin was pleased, both that she'd been useful---and that she was getting a nickname; and one she didn't mind hearing. Most importantly, it was so feminine; an aspect of her life she'd dreamed of developing, but under the conditions of her profession and her culture, that just hadn't been a likelihood for her.
“And?” the Elf prodded.
Elenir grinned, “Lúthien!”
Ravena elaborated for Deni, “You see, in Lascorii mythology, the most beautiful enchantress of all our people...”
“Or of the Elven folk of Elhehrim!” Deni exclaimed, “Even the Seranim know this name: She was the enchanting daughter of the starry evening twilight.” Deni was obviously impressed with these 'Elven folk of Elhehrim' she kept on, “I haven't actually met any of them in person; I don't think anyone really has, but I have seen the few holos in the Guild archives, so someone has to have at some point. Even if it was just one person. The amazing thing to me is that, and I didn't even realize this until coming aboard the Huntress the first time... I mean you... that is to say the Lascorii are exactly what those holos showed the Elhehrim looked like! Same beauty, same spots, same shapely ears... even robed as I notice y'all prefer to be...” She was quiet then, but as suddenly chirped, “Oh and their hair was white! Just like Senta's.”
Ravena had to chuckle. Elenir, Isin, Senta and the Elf each wondered why she found that humorous. Yula and Mim were rapt with attention over the present conversation. It gave the Elf the impression, again, that these two were far more than just clever creatures. “There is a legend that over a thousand years ago, the venerable Matriarch, perhaps Reja Grenassia III, like our own present Matriarch has to some degree, initiated a program of 'public relations' to curb the vitriolic suspicion and loathing the other peoples of the Spur continued to maintain toward us. She allegedly assigned a task force of our finest warriors to set up a colony not too far distant from Lascor---so that their activities could possibly be traced to us---and those activities were supposedly to include the random acts of kindness and charity towards any with whom they made contact. The sole stricture laid upon them was that they avoid overt personal detection when possible... seems rather self-defeating really if their charter was to improve Lascorii reputations and all. But that's the gist of the tale, obviously it's had to have been exaggerated over the centuries. The point that caught my fancy is that our mythology included those elven people---children of Lúthien...”
The Elf brought the conversation back to the present, and posited skeptically; “And this is all somehow a tribute to the coincidence that I am Captain of the Huntress and my name has been corrupted into: the Elf?”
Elenir nodded but added, “It so happens that in one of our myths it's suggested that Lúthien was sired by the creator, Eru Ilúvatar, and the great Pantheress, Bast---the supreme Huntress and protector of women!”
Again there was a spell of silence at the table. And again Deni broke the pause with: “I love it!”
Grinning faces looked back at her. The Elf admitted, “Fitting, truly fitting. Lúthien it is then.” They all clapped spontaneously at the verdict.
Elenir turned once more to Deni and added, “That's kinda what I meant when I said, the Lascorii have an interesting way of naming their ships.”
The Lúthien looked more and more like a reflection of her namesake as each day of re-construction passed. At the end of the twelfth day after leaving the Balosian station, Pim announced to an expectant company that, “Our cloaking device works better than I'd hoped. And that's not all...”
Song whispered to the Captain, whose eyes widened and nodded most excitedly. “Make it so!”
Pim added happily, “We can build modified versions for the Huntress herself!”
Ravena crowed, “This is going to make strategic planning a lot more interesting! I'd given a great deal of attention to tactics for the Lúthien, but to now have the Huntress capable of popping in and out of scanner fields... Well, this is going to take good and thorough review.”
Reia and Song assured, “Lúthien will be ready for flight trials in the morning if the Captain wishes.” “Naturally, we'll have to drop from wrinkle, boss.”
The Elf glanced at Senta. “Captain, there is one system that I've scanned and rescanned over this afternoon. It's well before the area described by our salvage guy... And although I can't get a conclusive reading... It may have residuals of a Naud wrinkle signature. I'd really like to take first-hand readings.”
The Elf smiled. “Kismet! Make it so. Jista arrange the side course and feed the data to the helm. ETA?”
Senta answered, “It's half a light year; that a way,” and she pointed through the starboard bulkhead.
“So, we put Lúthien through her paces in the morning,” the Elf finished, “while Ravena, Senta and Isin inspect our suspicious star system.”
Ravena hesitated then announced, “If our primary business is concluded, I would dearly love to offer a tour of my gardens...”
The Elf stood up and carried her dishes to the galley, “Consider that our next company activity!”
As they walked the short distance to the gardens, with everyone chatting about their own favorite topics du jour, Mim and Yula walked out of the galley with them but suddenly darted away and toward the bridge. The Elf noted that little curiosity, and especially as it was followed instantly by a simultaneous beeping and alarm going off on their station remotes. Through the ship speakers came a mechanical voice, “Wrinkle compromised, dropping into normal space.”
As everyone headed to stations in a dash, Ravena scowled, “So much for showing off...”
The main screen showed that they had indeed dropped from wrinkle, as if every display at the helm wasn't proof enough. What captured the bridge crew's attention however was the field of destruction into which the Huntress was now gliding. Her shields insured that none of the debris collided directly with her hull, but the constant collisions were strewing the destruction in every direction. “All stop,” the Elf commanded. Reia shut down their forward motion as Senta scanned the field more closely.
“Report!” the Elf demanded.
“Captain, we are not even a quarter light year from the center of the Illian system,” Senta added, “and this debris isn't just space trash...”
Denalin strode onto the bridge. “Permission to come on the bridge,” she uttered but only as a formality. She carried an interesting little device in her hands and was pointing it at the larger chunks of jetsam visible in the main viewer. Looking up from the little display in her hands she muttered, “Naudi signatures all over this lot. Weapons fire, probably a core breach, no survivors, and...”
All eyes were on the Seranim. What other surprises was she going to produce? The Elf sat back in the Captain's chair and asked calmly, “And where did you get a hand scanner with that kind of range?”
Denalin looked up more than a little embarrassed. She answered with a curt, “A girl has to have her things about her; I like gadgets...” that's all she'd offer on that score. She hurriedly continued, “Captain, this is a mystery. Who or what destroyed a Naud cruiser way out here?”
Senta added to the riddle, “Not just a cruiser; there's too much debris for just one ship. There must be pieces of at least a dozen scout ships or fighters or whatever---there are weapons signatures in the majority of the smaller bits out there...”
The little surprise of the Seranim's 'gadget' aside, the Elf made a decision. “Flight trials for the Lúthien have just been moved up.” She turned from staring at the main screen, “Isin, Reia, Pim; make a tour of the catastrophe out there. If there are more cloaking units, send them back to the Huntress, and gather any functional weapons from out of that mess. We'll not leave dangerous playthings for just any passing vessel to accidentally encounter. That would be reckless and thoughtless of us as perhaps the first ship after our beneficent salvage proprietor to encounter this... uh...” 'Disaster' was the word she was about to use, but then any occurrence that reduced the Naud, in her mind, couldn't be deemed a disaster. “...situation. Remember: even the salvage ship that was here before didn't realize what they were scavenging. Be vigilant!”
“Yes Ma'am!” The three of them happily headed for the hangar with uncharacteristic excitement---considering the task. Mim and Yula gazed at each other for a moment and Yula leapt to the deck and ran out after the trio, who were anxious to put Lúthien through her paces. The grim task of scavenging the catastrophe around them was wholly secondary.
Then the Elf turned to Deni with a little smile at the corner of her eyes. “Any other little gadgets I should know about just now?” Mim's eyes never left the Seranim, as if she were interested to see how much of what she knew would be aired aloud.
Denalin shoved the scanner into one of her pockets like a child hiding a stolen candy cane. “Uh... Nope, Captain. Nothing interesting...” the Elf nodded, and let it go. Mim still gazed at Denalin with a blank expression on her feline features. If Deni wanted to play it coy, the Elf decided, she'd just have to keep her guard up---Second nature anyway.
Ravena finally looked up from her displays and monitors. “Captain, I've finished compiling a few scenarios that could account for the patterns of destruction---as it was before we waded into the