SEASON 1: EPISODE 2 " WEATHER STATION No.3 (S)."

SEASON 1: EPISODE 2: "WEATHER STATION 3(S)."

4. ROUTINE SERVICE.

A gentle persistent buzz penetrated his dream and Jones awoke from quite a deep sleep, he had been dreaming, but now couldn’t recall it. “Bugger.” He muttered to himself, and sat up; he could see that the bridge light was illuminated on his intercom.

Captain Jones rubbed his face and eyes, his night lamp clicked on and he pressed the intercom switch by his head and heard Peter’s voice, he also noticed that the time was 03.15 hours. Jones had managed to garner five hours sleep in one session, which wasn’t bad considering the Thor had been on the sand for over five days.

“What is it Pete?” Jones yawned, running his hands through his hair.

“We’ve arrived at number three skipper and there’s a real blaster of a duster raging out there.” Pete Gravestone was peering through the bridge windows; he had guessed that visibility was no more than a couple of meters. He could only make out the triangular shape of Weather Station No.3(S) because its external lighting had switched on with the approach of the Thor. “We parked up some 600 meters from her on good ground.” He added. 

“Thanks Pete, call a briefing for seven thirty at sun up.” Jones lay back and stared at the dull coloured padded ceiling and walls of his cabin, he and the Chief had cabins on the tractor unit as did Peter, Ensign Lilly and the rig’s apprentice; ‘Sunny’ – the last three cabins were doubles, allowing up to eight people to live on the Thor, if necessary. The remainder of the crew had their living accommodation in Trailer 2, but the MO had her own cabin within the Medical Suite.

He sipped some cold water from the bottle he kept by his bunk and the morning schedule passed through his mind. Brief the crew first; the service team would consist of himself, the Chief, Tom and Kazza, they would cross the sand to the station and start the maintenance routines, whilst the support team will consist of the MO, who would monitor the survival suit read outs, with Bella and Lilly on communications’, leaving Pete to manage the Thor with Leon’s assistance.

Troy can stand by with the’ sand cat’ for an emergency evacuation - if required, and Frankie can knock up a curry for lunch. Jones laid back and drifted off into a dream about tree’s and puddles of water. It seemed only seconds, but his bedside alarm buzzing told him it was five thirty and he pulled himself from the bunk and headed for the shower.

The Captain was on the bridge just before six, watching the duster blowing outside. No one was going anywhere in that, winds gusting at 50kph and visibility down to a couple of meters. They would have to sit it out for now. Still, that means everyone could have a good breakfast and relax a little before hitting the sand.

The storm blew itself out by nine o’clock and the Thor became a hive of activity, survival suits were checked and checked again, tool boxes were loaded onto the ‘Beaver’ [a small drone used for light loads]. Eve set up a medical control centre on the bridge whilst Bella checked communications and Lilly made coffee for everyone. The Chief consulted his PA and was satisfied that all technical specifications and blue prints for Weather Station 3(S) had been downloaded to his and the Captain’s. Tom checked the spare parts that the routine service called for, piece by piece through their protective wrap, logging each on his PA. He checked everything twice before he was satisfied that it was all correct.

The service team assembled in the suit room and after a quick reminder about safety and emergency procedures, they stepped into their survival suits [known colloquially as ‘sand-suits’] and checked everything a third time. The service team consisting of Captain Jones, the Chief, Tom and Kazza, now all suited up, headed for the external pressure lift and squeezed in. “Troy, are you under way?” The Captain called into his microphone as he noticed that one ‘sand-suit’ was already missing from its locker. “Yes Captain, on way now.” Troy replied, adding; “I’ll be there waiting for you.”

“Check read outs please Doc.” Jones called into his helmet microphone. “Will do captain.” Was Eve’s reply, as she scanned the five screens before her. “All normal, so clear to go Captain.” She watched on her side monitor as Jones gave the thumbs up. The service mission was on.

The external pressure lift descended down to ground level, it was located to the rear of tyre no. 7 on the starboard side of the Thor. As the door opened, exposing the crew to Mars atmosphere, a little dust swirled about the crew’s feet, but the dust storm had gone – for the moment – and in single file, with Jones leading, the service crew started the 10 minute walk to Weather Station No.3, which loomed above them like some metallic pyramid.

Tom kept one hand on the ‘beaver’ as the drone rattled across the dusty surface. “Keeping a close eye on my instruments, I don’t fancy picking them out of the crap around here.” He told the Chief, who nodded in agreement. But Jones had to smile to himself, a few hundred meters away was a swirl of dust moving quickly around the weather station. “Troy, you’re supposed to stand by with the ‘sand-cat’, not take her on holiday.” He called through his mic. The ball of dust came slowly to a halt by the external door of the weather station, and Troy waved through her windows to the approaching group.

“Just doing checks on her Captain, she’s not been out in a while.” Troy explained over his helmet mic, he had not pressurised ‘little Thor’ in case the service crew needed to board quickly. Troy had loaded her with the emergency surface stretcher which was basically a trolley with a bag that could be pressurised.

Each crew member carried a little emergency repair kit, which could be used to fix tears or holes in the survival suit and a very small oxygen capsule which was designed to be broken open and thrown in the suit. It gave an extra 10 minutes of breathable air – and those extra 10 minutes could mean the difference between life and death on the hostile Mars surface.

It should be noted that the vast majority of people living on Mars had never walked on her surface.

That incredible statistic was actually true because few people needed to leave the cities, farms or townships and spend time outside on the surface. Military personnel all did ‘sand-time’ as part of their training, and like the crew of the Thor; it was part of their duties. The construction teams that build everything incorporated surface training, as did the many rig’s that traversed Mars.

But for the average citizen of Mars, they could die of old age in their bed, never once having placed a foot on the surface of the planet they called home.

Jones and the service crew had arrived at the external pressure door of the weather station and he punched the entry code into the keypad, after cleaning it with his glove. The door slid quietly back and the team entered. The pressure room was lit by two bright ceiling lamps, Jones went to the small control panel located by the Inner door and waited for everyone to enter, then closed the outer door.

“Chief, your blood pressure is up a little, are you o.k.?” Eve’s voice came through the helmet speakers and everyone turned to the Chief, who shrugged his shoulders and replied; “I’m too bloody old for this shit!” and laughed. Tom slapped the Chief’s back; “You can ride back on the ‘beaver’ if you’re feeling your age.” Everyone laughed and Eve added; “Well, once inside Chief and the atmosphere has kicked in, rest up for at least 30 minutes please.”

The Chief nodded; “Sure Doc, whatever you say.” He looked at Jones and rolled his eyes, mouthing; ‘Fucking bound to.’ “The helmet cams are still working Chief.” Eve said without censor in her voice.

The service crew had a few giggles at that one. It took a couple of minutes for the station’s atmosphere to stabilise and they entered its control room. They slipped from their sand-suits and started to unpack the maintenance kits. The Chief did as he was advised and sat on a chair with his feet up on the desk.

“You take it easy grandpa.” Kazza patted the Chief’s head and tried to wrap him in a thermal blanket, borrowed from the aid kit. “Fuck off you little shit!” The Chief snapped, throwing the blanket at Kazza who laughed loudly. The Captain clapped his hands; "Come on boys, let’s get started, Tom can you rig up communications with the Thor and handshake with her mainframe?

Tom nodded and Kazza started to remove service panels from the rear wall whilst the Captain scrutinised the station’s technical specifications, The Chief sat with arms folded, swearing under his breath, he had another ten minutes of ‘rest’ to go.

5. CATEGORY 3 STORM.

Lilly’s voice came over the intercom; “Captain, Bella has a weather report you should know about.”

Tom answered; “Put her on, the skippers listening.” He gave Jones a concerned look, had that bloody duster doubled back on itself? This routine service was logged at twelve hours, and that was generous, but a storm could add hours to the visit. Bella had the service crew’s full attention.

“Captain, we’ve got a category 3 Low coming up fast. Its blowing down from the Easter’s [A large mountain range to the South of the Thor’s position] with wind speeds between 50kph and 70kph, and there’s some electric’s mixed in.” Bella had real concern in her voice, she continued; “I estimate that it will roll over us in about four hours.”

“It’s already showing on the station’s instruments.” The Chief tapped the screen on the desk he was sitting at. “There have been loads of reports about a couple monsters blowing about the ice-shelf, this could be part of one, and maybe it’s breaking up.” The Chief was right about the ice-shelf, which lay behind the Easter Mountain range, numerous reports had come into the Weather Service describing one of the worse winters there in living memory. A storm had cut off Shackleton [a small city located on the ice-shelf] for about 10 days a few weeks ago. Weather Station No.7(S) which is near the South Pole had given good warning on the storms approach – and that had saved lives, with ice workers evacuated to Shackleton and Augusta in plenty of time.

Jones nodded and looked quite grim;”Thanks Bella, keep on top of it, I want to know about any changes.” He looked round the Control Room and could see the real concern on their faces. “Let’s go boys, Chief and Tom, you’ll head back in the sand-cat and get some rods raised. Kazza and I will go back on foot. We’ll leave the service kits here.”

Troy’s voice came over the headset's; "Ready to go Captain, I’m outside the door with ‘little Thor’ fired up.” The decision was made, abandon the service visit and baton down the hatches on the Thor and sit it out. What really concerned everyone was the mention of ‘electric’s’ in the storm, lightning and worse: thunderbolts. They could be deadly. A decade ago, a bolt had struck a ‘Mammoth’ cargo rig up in Cydonia; it simply blew the tractor unit into several pieces and killed all seven crew members. It had come on them so quickly that they hadn’t raised rods or prepped the Life-rafts. Had they received a warning, the outcome may have been very different, but Weather Station 29(N) was out of commission with a serious fault, WSV: “The David Miller” had been on route to the station when the tragedy happened.

The Chief of WSV: “The David Miller” had been Marcus Enders and he was part of the search team that scoured the wreckage of the ‘Mammoth’ – they found no bodies, everything had been torn apart, like some crazed giant had simply pulled the rig into little pieces. The wreck had been recovered the following year and a simple memorial service held for the lost crew of CV: “The Sun King.”

It had been a terrible time for the Chief: the “The Sun King’s” rig apprentice was a 10 year old Katherine Enders, the Chief’s niece, on her second tour aboard the rig. A small stone had been erected at the site with the names of the crew. On the anniversary of the tragic event, the Chief gets drunk. When a crew mate, helping him back to their rig after such a session, told the Chief that he drank too much, Marcus replied simply; “Too much for what?”

Weather Station No. 29(N) was now manned, a direct result of the tragedy and High Military Command insistence that the station was in operation 24/7. The military had good cause to be concerned. At the time MSV: “The Admiral Valisky” [Flag rig of the Northern fleet] and her two escort rigs had been in the area of the disaster and had the storm struck her, it would have been a catastrophe on a National scale.

The Military Commander [at the time] Marshal John Cabot-Wayne, under pressure from the Martian President and Senate, ordered personally that Weather Station 29(N) will in future, be manned.

The Chief sat quietly in the ‘sand-cat’ and stared through the windows as they approached the Thor. Every time someone mentioned a storm with ‘electric’s’ he thought of his niece and how happy and pleased she was with her posting on the CV: “The Sun King”. “I’ll see you when I get back Uncle M.” Young Kate hugged her favourite Uncle, and blowing a little kiss, left for the rig – never to return.

“What do you think Chief, four or five rods?” Tom asked the Chief. But Marcus was elsewhere, scrambling through smoking wreckage, shouting his young niece’s name with the terrible realisation that the little girl he had known and loved from birth was gone. He searched the wreck site like a man possessed until two of his colleagues dragged him back to WSV: “The David Miller” – his oxygen had run out and he only made it back with minutes to spare.

But worse was to come. His distraught brother shouting; “For God sake Marcus, you were there, why didn’t you bring my little girl home for a proper Resurrection service?” Then Kate’s dad collapsing in his brothers arms, totally broken with grief and sobbing; "Why didn’t you bring my baby home?” Marcus said nothing and returned to his rig, never mentioning the incident again.

Around his neck, in a silver locket, he carried several strands of coloured string, the remainder of a bracelet that young Kate had made for him when she was six. “When I grow up Uncle M, I want to be just like you, A Chief on a big rig!” The little girl had exclaimed to her delighted Uncle.

He now carried so much guilt for all his encouragement and assistance that he had shown her. Kate’s father wanted her to be a Doctor [like him and her mother] and not work the rigs so the pain of that guilt burned deep in the Chief’s heart, he blamed himself for her death and no Psychologist had been able to extinguish that dreadful flame.

“What do you think Chief, four or five rods?” Tom repeated his question and touched the Chief’s shoulder, Marcus looked directly at him and said; “Five. Let’s have five out. Troy, pass the message to Lilly to get Leon and Peter haul them from the cargo bay, so they’re ready for us.” Tom nodded his agreement; “We’ll have them in operation in less than two hours!”

“If that storm has real electrics, then we’ll need every rod we can put out.” The Chief stated, viewing his PA, assessing the best places to mount the rods around the Thor. Quickly he made his decision and passed the placement plan to the bridge and Captain Jones. “Well done Marcus, we’ll run with that, it looks good to me.” Jones called to the Chief, and then looking behind him, as he and Kazza approached the Thor on foot, he could see the dark sky above the Easter’s. “Bella, that bloody storm looks closer than four hours away, can you re-calculate please.” Shit, thought Jones, it would take a couple of hours to get the Chief’s rods into position and that bastard looks only a couple of hours away.

That’s when the dark horizon was split with several bright white flashes and a couple of intense orange streaks. “Captain, it’s speeding up, running at 70kph and there are lots of electrics. It may be a Category 3 High now. We’ve got under three hours, I think.” Bella spoke into the intercom as she studied the new storm module she had recalculated and it didn’t look good.

“We’re starting the rod placement now skipper!” Tom shouted as he and Troy pulled the first rod canister from the cargo hold and dragged it some 200 meters west of the Thor. The Chief and Leon were already making their way north, pulling another rod canister behind them.

“We’ll be with you in a minute, Kazza and I will do the East. Let’s go boys!” The Captain shouted, reaching the cargo hold door, where he was surprised to find Frank, suited up, and rolling a rod canister towards them. ” All hands to the deck hey skipper!” He called; “But the lunch curry may be late.”

“Better late than never.” Kazza grunted as he and the Captain started to haul the canister across the dirt and encountered another surprise.

“Bella can handle the comm.’s Captain, Frank and I can do the southern one.” It was Lilly; “If that’s O.K. with you.” She added, taking hold of the canisters strap as Frank pushed another one towards the cargo doors; “It will cut setting up time greatly.”

“Are you sure Lilly, that you can manage, it’s quite physical?” Kazza asked, already panting from his exertions. “Yes I can thank you Deck-hand Kamiski.” Lilly replied with some authority in her voice.

“Sorry Ma’am, no disrespect intended.” Kazza glanced at the Captain, who smiled and nodded his agreement; “Have you set up a rod canister before Lilly?” The Ensign gave the thumbs up and her and Frank set off across the dirt, dragging a canister behind them. Jones looked up at the mountains and knew they just had a couple of hours before the storm hit; “Come on people, let’s get this done before that bastard kicks our arse!” Jones could see Tom and Troy heading back to the cargo bay; the west canister had been placed.

“North is ready!” Leon shouted as he and the Chief started to make their way back to the Thor’s cargo hold. “We’ll place number five about a 1000 meters from the rear trailer.” The Chief called out, but staggered a little and Leon took hold of his arm. “Fuck off; I can make it under my own steam!” Marcus pushed Leon’s hand away, but Eve’s voice came over the headsets; “Chief, I want you back on the Thor now please.” There was some urgency in her voice; “Your readout’s are off the wall. Return at once.”

“It’ll wait Doc; don’t get your panties in a twist.” The Chief panted openly, he could feel the sweat running down his face and back, but he wasn’t about to abandon his duty just because some slip of a girl told him so.

“Return to the Thor and help Peter on the bridge Chief, it’s not up for discussion.” The Captains voice ended any arguments the Chief may have put up and Marcus made his way to external pressure lift.

“Tom, you get on board too and ready to fire the rods, we won’t have time to place number five.” Jones added as they reached the placement for the eastern canister. He and Kazza set to work, placing the canister in an upright position and pulled each of the red release straps which allowed the rod to operate. Jones punched in the grounding code and the base bolts fired, tethering the canister to the ground. “Let’s go Kazza, everyone back to the rig when you’ve placed your rods.” Jones was now watching Lilly and Frank as they struggled to raise the canister – but it appeared that old Frank was finding it hard to manage. “How’s it going Lilly?” Jones called with some concern in his voice.

“It’ll be ready in about five.” Lilly said; “Frank and I won’t let you down.”

6. RESCUE ON THE SAND. 

Jones looked about him; everyone was back on the Thor save Lilly, Frank and himself. Troy was securing the ‘sand-cat’ and would be on board in minutes. “I know you won’t Lilly, but that storm will be here soon.”

Jones walked back to the external pressure lift and opened it in readiness, that’s when he saw the dust swirl rolling in from the south behind Lilly and Frank. The original little storm was back. “Fucking shit!” Jones exclaimed; “Lilly, Frank; behind you – move it now!” The dust swirled about the two figures and they disappeared from sight.

The Captain, cursing under his breath started to head towards the rising dust cloud when Peter’s voice came through his headset; "Skipper! What the fuck are you doing? Get inside the lift, that fucking monster is almost upon us!” Jones looked behind and the sky was black, there was nothing but dust and lightning and it was almost upon them. “Fire the rod’s!” Jones shouted and looked anxiously at where the southern rod had been placed. “Where’s Lilly and Frank?”

He heard a loud bang as the Northern rod opened and several snake like cables exploded into the air, travelling a couple of hundred meters up, waving about like metallic tentacles. The Eastern rod quickly followed, and then the western rod burst into life. It seemed like minutes, but just a few seconds later, the south rod activated – Lilly and Frank had done it.

“Lilly’s fine, but Frank is hurt, something hit his suit, and there was a pressure and oxygen drop, then nothing. But he’s back on line, he’s got oxygen.” Eve shouted through the headset, that’s when Jones saw them; Lilly was dragging the incumbent figure of Frank through the dust.

Jones ran to help, grabbing one arm and together they dragged the unconscious Chef to the external pressure lift door. “Lilly what happened?” Jones asked as they pulled Frank into the lift and closed the door. “Eve stand by, Frank was hit by a sharp rock in the small of his back, it cut through his suit and he suffered a pressure and oxygen loss, but I managed to seal the breach with tape from my emergency kit and throw in an air capsule, I think he’ll make it.” Lilly panted as the elevator rose. The Captain gripped Lilly’s arm and said simply: "Well done Lilly, very well done.”

Eve was in the lift as soon as the door opened; “Get him to the medical bay quick.” She pulled off his helmet and could see no real damage, his eyes were fine, his ears and nose had no blood showing. Frank shook his head slowly and smiled; “Hi doc, how’s business? I don’t think ‘Dallas’ will have to give up his bed just yet.”

Everyone laughed with relief; “You’ll do fine Frank, a couple of days in the Medical Bay with me and ‘Dallas’ fussing over you, you’ll make it.” Eve grinned and smiled at Lilly; “Ensign, I think you just saved this man’s life.” Jones agreed with that, as did everyone else. “That was quick thinking Lilly, considering the stress of it all.” Peter patted Lilly’s shoulder; “You did the right thing, giving oxygen and sealing the suit, you must have passed out top of the class in survival training.”

"And weight lifting, dragging that lump for nearly a hundred meters.” The Chief was sipping water from a cup and looking quite relaxed; “If the Thor ever needs a tug-of-war team, you are in it girl!” Lilly laughed and gave a girlish grin, she started to remove her ‘sand-suit’ and the Chief offered her some of his water. “Well done Ensign.” He added, and then noticed Jones looking at him; “The Doc’s fixed me up with some blood pressure pills, I'll be fine."

“No sand time for five weeks Chief.” Eve said, helping Leon raise Frank to his feet and remove his survival suit. A small stone, no bigger than a thumb, fell to the floor. Frank pointed to it; “I’ll keep that for a souvenir please.” Lilly picked it up; “I’ll hold onto it Frank, maybe you could get it mounted in a nice frame or something.” They both laughed.

“To medibay please children.” Eve smiled and motioned down the corridor, “I need to check you out too Lilly, so come on.” Lilly stopped in her tracks and unsmiling said; “I’m fine Ma’am, not a scratch.” Eve shook her head and added; “You’ve no choice, you’ve been involved in an incident on the sand, where’s there has been injuries, just regulations Ensign.”

Jones noticed the alarmed expression on Lilly’s face and her previous Captain’s report’s started to pass through his mind; had he missed something important there?

The Chief gripped Franks arm and with Leon on the other, they headed for the Medical Bay; “Come on fellow invalids, it’s down the yellow brick road to medical land for us.”

Jones slipped from his survival suit as they disappeared down the corridor with Eve and Lilly following, the Ensign still gently protesting about regulations, Troy appeared in the doorway of the suit room;” Lt. Gravestone asks if you’re heading for the bridge Captain.” Jones nodded; “I’m on my way.”

“That was something else, she looks so fragile, yet she hauled Frank’s arse over a hundred meters in a fucking storm blowing 50kph plus – I wouldn’t like to get a right hook from her!” Troy followed the Captain to the bridge. “Best call her Ma’am then.” Jones smiled at Troy, then added; “Or Sir. If you want.” And chuckled to himself - Troy was an affable idiot sometimes.

Troy laughed, then stopped with a complete look of puzzlement on his face; “Captain, you don’t mean she’s one of those transfer people you hear about?” He looked quite amazed. The Captain sighed loudly; "Its trans gender you twat and it doesn't matter either way. Just accept Lilly for the person she is."

Troy grinned and nodded his head; “Yeah, I'm great at tolerating all sorts of people who are different.” Jones stopped in his tracks and pushed a hand through his short hair and turned back to Troy; "It's not about tolerance of anything Troy, it's about simply accepting a person for who they are. Lilly is a very good person and she's going to be a fine officer. She doesn't expect to be tolerated, but accepted for the person she is. That's it pure and simple." Jones started for the bridge ladder and Troy thought about the captain's words for a few seconds and then smiled; "Your right Captain, I can accept that. I'm a pretty tolerant person." Troy then headed for the Galley in search of a snack.

Jones help up his arms in mock despair and climbed the ladder onto the bridge. "Maybe there are some sane fuckers on the bridge.” He muttered to himself. Pete was watching the storm from the pilot seat, Bella was still manning communications and Kazza was sipping coffee, watching a monitor – it appeared to be some old TV show, he chuckled to himself several times, before he realised that the Captain was back on the bridge – he quickly switched it back to readouts from the rig’s mainframe.

“I find Mr.Ed quite funny too Kazza, but best watched when off duty and not sitting on the bridge.” Jones jerked his thumb towards the bridge ladder – Kazza was clever enough to accept the reprimand without comment and head for the galley, he wondered if any food would be dished up as he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime.

Kazza had joined the service after leaving University for three good reasons:

1. He couldn't stand living in the small city of Augusta with his parents and two dumb brothers,

2. He didn't want to spend seven hours a day in a computer room or lab and

3. You get three meals a day in the Military - and someone else cooks it!

Kazza Kimiski was the Thor’s Systems Specialist; he looked after the rigs computer systems under the careful eye of the Chief [and the Captain]. He also carried out service and repair procedures on the Stations, which made life a little more interesting – he also knew that the skills and experience he was gaining would set him up for life in some cushy number in one of the Capitol cities of Mars.

That’s where life is at. Kazza had visited Taylor for a short holiday after graduation and loved the buzz of the place - he felt that he belonged there. But such a life style in the Martian Capitol would be expensive and so he made plans. Military service always opened doors with the big Martian Corporations and the Weather Service couldn’t be that dangerous, not like being in the real military, he had reasoned. So a couple years of ‘sand-time’, lots of experience with systems and bingo! The life he wanted and yearned for.

Jones sat in the Captain’s chair and re-read the Ensign’s reports. He closed the PA and with hand on chin, stared at the storm blowing against the front screen windows. The good news from Bella was that the storm’s electrics appear to be high in the atmosphere. He glanced across to the communications desk to see Lilly relieving Bella; “Frank had made the curry, so Eve is serving it up. It’s really good.” Lilly turned to the Captain and added; “Eve said she’s saving you a big plateful Captain.”

Jones nodded; "Thanks Lilly, I’ll have it later. Bella, I need new models on this storm, can you have them done by the morning please.” Bella agreed and left the bridge for the galley, she actually didn’t feel hungry despite not eating since breakfast. But she wanted to have a chat with the Doc and they could sit and talk in the galley when everyone has left.

Jones could feel the Ensign looking at him; “What is it Lilly?” He said, looking at the monitor before him. The Ensign swallowed hard and nervously said;”Could I ask for a confidential interview please Captain?”

Jones looked up and nodded; “Yes you can Lilly, I think it’s somewhat overdue, don’t you?”

Lilly stared at floor and wiping away a tear whispered; “Yes, you’re right, sorry Captain."

"The medical bay tomorrow morning, before I leave with the service crew. Do you want anyone there?" The Captain asked, easing back in his chair and smiling at the young Ensign, Lilly nodded; "Eve, if I may." The Captain agreed; "See you tomorrow Lilly and please don't lose sleep over it."

Lilly smiled; "I won't Captain, thank you." Ensign Blissford, somewhat relieved, turned back to the communications desk and saw incoming calls, one from Weather Service Control - marked for the 'Captain only' - and a couple of routine service messages including a weather report.

"Captain, a message marked for you only." Lilly called out and punched the message across to the Captain's desk. Jones accepted it and wasn't too pleased with the contents. "Lilly, get Peter and the Chief to the bridge please." Placing hands on head, Jones pushed back in his seat and said simply; "Shit!"

FOLLOW THE ROVER TO EPISODE 3:"DISTRESS CALL" 

"William Alexander Stephens."

W.A.S.

Copyright © 2011-2021 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without permission.