The rest of the flight to the hyper-jump point went smoothly. The only thing of note being when the 'rus ships arrived well ahead of us and jumped away without causing any further issues.
When we arrived at the jump point, one of the destroyers, the Polly Bont, was sent through ahead of the task force to reconnoiter the other side. Twenty minutes later, it returned with the news that it was all clear on the other side and the 'rus ships were nowhere in sight. It occurred to me that that poor crew had gone through two hyper-jumps in less than a half hour, and presumably they would be taking their place in the task force and be jumping a third time. That's a LOT of jumps in such a short time. I felt for the crew.
Don't get me wrong. I had long since gotten used to hyper-jumps. Pete and I had hyper-jumped all over the place in our time together, including some of the longest jumps known. Contrary to what the dirt-siders believed, hyper jumps are not instant. Most only take a few seconds, but there are a few that take much longer. Some are smooth and easy, while others make you wonder if the universe wants you dead. As far as I've ever been able to find, nobody really knows why. Rough hyper-jumps are hard on ships. Nav data for a given jump point usually includes how long a jump will take, and a code for how rough it is. I've even seen where someone added a second by second rundown on what to expect in the Notes section. My experience has been that the time and roughness code were usually pretty spot on, but the notes were nearly worthless. I don't think two hyper-jumps are ever quite the same. Some hauler Captains are careful to plan their hauls so that they can avoid the rougher hyper-jumps. Pete, on the other hand, never balked at any hyper-jump run. If it was there, and that was where we needed to go, that was where we went. That attitude made us quite a bit of money over the years. A run from Tampus III to Meritus V can take 23,864 seconds end-to-end, if you don't mind getting your brain rattled a little bit. That's one jump that takes over six and a half hours. Or you can take the long road by traversing five different hyper-jump points and get there in around seven days including the time it takes traveling from jump-point to jump-point. We always went the fast way. Pete would simply have us suspend ourselves using bungee cords, and turned off the artificial grav. Sure, we bounced around quite a bit, but it was almost fun. The early delivery bonus was incredible.
The jump from Morgaite space back to Otford was pretty easy as far as hyper-jumps go. It only takes about 36 seconds, and while it does have a medium roughness code, I wouldn't classify it as such. It really feels like driving over a hill at high speed in a ground car. There's an initial "oof", and then a "WEEEE!" and then you are out. It always takes a few hours for my stomach to settle down from the "WEEEE!", but it isn't like it hurts or anything.
When we arrived at Ortford, the task force visited the former location of Ortford station. And boy do I mean former. It was gone. The only thing left was wreckage. there were a few bigger pieces that had obviously once been part of the station, and a few chunks that looked like they were probably from one of the various ships that had met their end, and nothing else. The order came down from Force that we were going to stop for a day so that the wreckage could be investigated. I didn't know why they were bothering, there wasn't a chance that anyone had survived and was still floating around in the wreckage. But if they wanted to look, they could look as far as I was concerned. We were on their dime.
Since the Haul-o-caster wasn't part of the investigation effort, I decided it was time to break out the goodies. All I said was "Can someone go break out the new uniforms and distribute them." and there was practically a stampede. Even Cmdr Barona ran for the hatch leading to the cargo bay. Lt Cmdr Dorn and I were the only ones left on the bridge.
Lt Cmdr Dorn looked at where everyone had gone and raised an eyebrow, "Indeed" he said and turned back to his station.
"Indeed" I replied. Dorn was one funny man, terrifying, but funny.
Good thing we weren't planning on going anywhere.
Before long, blue uniforms started appearing as the crew returned. Everyone had huge smiles on their faces like it was the best day ever. Morganites sure do like them some uniforms... who knew?
As the crew was fussing over their new uniforms, I tracked down Mother Ahmisa with an idea.
That evening, I had Cmdr Barona call a dress-uniform inspection for all hands in cargo bay one. You should have seen the down faces on the people around me as the call went out. I got the impression that while the Morganites did love having fancy uniforms, that didn't translate to loving uniform inspections. Nobody loves inspections. Well... nobody on the receiving end anyway.
This was going to be awesome.
I recruited Chief Williamson and PO Smart to help with the surprise along with Mother Ahmisa. I was told that my part in the surprise would be to stay on the bridge and run interference so that they could work without anyone finding out. It was an easy task because everyone not on duty, or working on the surprise, were frantically trying to get brand-new uniforms into good enough shape to stand an inspection. If you've ever had to do that, you'll know what I mean.
The time finally came for me to don my own dress uniform and meet my co-conspirators in cargo bay one. When I arrived, I found the biggest spread of food that I had ever seen. I don't know where they got them, but the Chief and PO Smart had found tables and chairs enough for everyone, and Mother Ahmisa found table linens and place settings. Not just the ship's usual recyclable ones, real china and glass place settings with metal utensils. To top all of that, there was REAL FOOD! Meats and vegetables. Other stuff I couldn't even begin to identify. Bottles of wine. Bread. It was all far beyond what I was expecting.
To understand my surprise, you might need to remember that I'd been on the Haul-o-caster for well over ten years, and didn't have a whole lot of memories from before that time. Ship-board food, by necessity, is usually ration bars. I'd been eating ration bars for so long, that when I thought of "food", I was generally thinking of ration bars. In that time, I also rarely left the Haul-o-caster. So when Pete would go out to talk to perspective clients, or have dinner with a contact, or whatever. I usually stayed behind. He ate whatever one eats at a "dinner with a contact". I just grabbed another ration bar from the bin in the "galley".
Pete once brought me an apple. It took him twenty minutes to convince me that he wasn't playing a joke on me, and that it really was food.
Then it took an hour before I finally figured out how to actually eat the thing. Don't laugh. Ever try to bite a big round thing? Go ahead, imagine it, but don't think apple, think big round thing. Not really a strong natural inclination there is it? The point is, there isn't any handy corner or starting place. Pete told me "you just have to bite it. How hard can that it be?"
How hard can that be?
Pete finally took pity on me and cut the apple in half.
So you'll have to forgive me for being so taken aback by the amount and variety of foods. Everything smelled so good. I had no idea what most of those smells were, but I was in serious danger of drooling all down the front of my nice new fancy dress uniform.
As people arrived, most of them entered the cargo bay hatch with a look of dread. Uniform inspections were never popular.
Then they would see the spread, and their faces would go from dread, to confusion, and then to a smile. I would watch the transformation, and when it was complete, I directed them to find a seat.
The last to arrive, other than Lt. Tine who I later found out had been detailed to bridge-watch duty, was Cmdr. Barona. I think she had planned it that way, because she walked in with a rather large, officious looking clipboard, and a scowl, ready to met out some uniform inspection justice. Then she looked up and took in the room, and her mouth fell open. In the time I had known her, I had come to think of Cmdr. Barona as being completely unflappable. When we had received word that Admiral Foster was on his way to arrest us, I know I was scared. Cmdr. Barona just took a deep breath like she does, let it out, and proceeded to give commands to get everyone ready to repel borders. Like it was just another day's work.
But not this time. This time I got her.
"Captain? What is all this?" She asked.
"Well, we got all these fancy new uniforms, and I thought we needed a good enough reason to wear them."
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