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Shipmates. As promised, here’s the opening salvo of our current mission. A
few notes: In order to get us rolling quickly, I’m temporarily abandoning
the old posting method. For the time being, we’ll use an SMS site for
posting. You’ll need to go to ussmissouri.net/sms to register for the new
site and get your character online and registered among ship’s personnel.
SMS will allow us to write single posts as well as joint posts. Any
questions, comments or concerns, please let me know.
Without further ado, here is the Recap & Relaunch, written by Mike Royer and
David Moody.
The ship’s resident Cardassian, Jektal Korr, stood in the back of the
turbolift, eyes toward the door. At the same time, he was making certain to
watch both the Captain and ch’Thane. He could not, as Security Chief, be
certain that both men’s intentions were noble. He had to doubt everyone. He
thought it strange that both were so nonchalant about the events unfolding.
They were not shaken, they were not nonplussed. In fact the trill and the
Andorian seemed to be responding to this development as if it were routine.
Perhaps, Korr thought, this was an indication of duplicity. Perhaps they
knew exactly what was going on. For his entire life, he had wondered if he
were living in simulacrum. He thought it possible that the next traitorous
action could come from someone close. The closest people at the moment were
Mor and ch’Thane. He palmed a phaser as the lift slowed to the deck.
“Phasers out, gentlemen,” he said imploringly. Traitors or not, he had to
make certain that the group was ready to fight, if necessary.
” Aye” The andorian responded, drawing his phaser and giving it a once over,
to ensure it was serviceable.
Arriving on deck ten, the three made short work of the distance to the main
shuttlebay and soon found themselves outside. With a nod to a pair of
crewmen in security devision uniforms, who had taken up positions on either
side of the shuttlebay entrance, Korr was the first to approach the doors.
” This PoDo may not be the shuttle’s only occupant.” He warned, pausing
before entering the bay. ” Be ready for anything.”
In his shuttlecraft, identical to the craft fused into the deck, PoDo ran a
few last checks on the shuttle. These people were acting very strangely. He
had been dispatched to replace the shuttle they had lost and to be installed
as an officer aboard the ship. Strangely, the crew and Captain seemed not to
expect him. Missouri Actual seemed positively disturbed by PoDo’ presence.
He gathered a few things an set the shuttle’s controls to respond only to
him; it was a subroutine built into the small ship’s software in case of
hostile capture. It felt strange invoking it, but he did so anyway, before
stepping out, into the Missouri’s shuttlebay. The room was still as it was
silent, no engineering personel, no flight crew, it was ominous and
disturbing and he took a moment’s pause to get his bearings, reassuring
himself that this was a Federation Starship and he should have nothing to
fear here. It was then that his eyes came to rest on something peculiar.
There was another shuttle in the bay. Another shuttle of precisely the same
configuration and bearing an identical registration to his own. PoDo,
understandably dumbfounded, didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t have
long to ponder this however as the sound of footsteps soon broke the eerie
silence and he became aware of a trio of humanoids approaching. One of them
he recognized as Captain Hashar Mor, the other two, a Cardassian and an
Andorian, were not familiar to him.
” This can’t be possible!” The Andorian exclaimed to the others, his
antennae quivering excitedly. ” According to my tricorder readings these
shuttles are identical.”
He appeared more interested in the craft than the new arrival and this,
along with his uniform led PoDo to deduce that he must be from flight
control. The Cardassian on the other hand was obviously from the Missouri’s
security devision and it showed in his mannerisms. Cool and composed, he
moved like a predator. The fact that the shuttles were at first glance
identical was of little consequence to him, so long as it didn’t impact the
safety of the ship.
The lone alien braced himself, trying to appear calm as they drew nearer.
Something was very wrong here and he got the distinct impression that from
their perspective that something was him.
Crouched there in the depths of his shuttlecraft fused into the deck astride
it, PoDo understood. His understanding was deep, sudden, and mind-altering.
Thirty seconds ago, the little green man had dropped into a crouch and
hugged his shins to himself because the situation had been one that was so
terribly strange, twisted, and beyond understanding that had felt like a
kind of death. The departure from the usual intellectual and physical input
had been so intense that his mind fought with the idea of The Happening
having been a universal jump.
The shuttle’s sensors had gone haywire just before his goal: The Missouri
had been there one moment, and then the next, it was replaced by a strange,
twisting unreality. Then space had returned, and the Missouri had returned.
The instruments of the shuttlecraft however, had been drafted off into the
realm of broken watch-dials. The laws of one universe seemed to be
colliding with the laws of another. PoDo was afraid that he himself was
going mad. Looking around and breathing the air, however, was defining. It
told him that what he sensed as air was real, and that what he felt as the
world had not changed. Something still, was remarkably different, and Podo
was desperately afraid. Something was completely wrong here, and the little
officer found himself emotionally unprepared to deal with it. Attackers and
defilers and epidemics were combatable. A situation could be irreparable.
This one, it seemed, was. At the very least, it was unreconcilable in his
mind.
Ten seconds ago, it had occurred to PoDo that the situation was strange only
because of his entry into it. Had he not entered it, the situation would
have remained the same. Captain Mor would have received his replacement
vessel and new crewman, and the ship would have continued on whatever
Starfleet-ordained-mission this ship had been upon. Missouri would have
continued along with the strange crew – the Cardassian Security Officer, for
instance. Mor would have continued along with the Intrepid class starship
that, according to PoDo’s navigational system, was not anywhere near where
the rendezvous and replenishment had been planned.
Two seconds ago, PoDo had decided that he was here for a reason.
PoDo stood, and peeked his head from an aft edge of the shuttlecraft.
“Lieutenant PoDo,” he said, striding into view, “reporting for duty.” He
was determined to pass whatever test of his life this was. He decided that
he had to go along with this new thing, lest he be lost in
miscomprehensionHe viewed this situation as a sort of enemy, and he knew
that he would have to be the victor.
Mor thought that this humanoid was like none he had ever seen, and he
stopped walking toward it. He saw that there were similarities in this
being to other species he had come to know, but his mind reeled, searching
for a lock on the particular genetic markers that would tell him who he was
dealing with. There were Vulco-humanoid ears, green skin with a gradient
that flowed vertically, and antennae – but not those like ch’Thane, who was
intent on the craft PoDo had arrived in; these were more pliant, reminding
Hashar of a cartoon, or a comic. He reached out to shake PoDo’s hand.
“Captain Mor,” he said plainly, and was pleased by PoDo’s identical
response. As their hands were about to clasp, Korr pulled forth his phaser.
“You’ll want to stop now,” he said,deep, subtextual warning dripping from
his voice. “That’s ah-” he peered toward Mor. “Not a good idea at
present,” he said, nodding reassuringly.
ch’Thane’s attention was abruptly drawn from his intent analysis of the
shuttlecraft. “Why not?”
Korr’s gaze turned dark as he glared toward chThane. “I’d imagine,” he
said, “that you would prefer that your Commanding Officer remain intact.”
ch’Thane nodded. “First contact with an unknown species, got you.”
PoDo’s head turned sharply toward the Andorian, whose structure was
imminently familiar. “Unknown Species?” PoDo belonged to of a
Federationites that had been around since the foundation of the structure.
ch’Thane looked wordlessly toward Mor, apologetic for having let the bit
about the “unknown species” slip.
In PoDo’s mind, it had now been established that the Missouri had not truly
expected PoDo, and briefly, he wished that he were still crouching in the
shuttle. Better yet, he wished that he were still heading toward the
Missouri. He hoped he had fallen asleep and were having some grand dream.
His heart, unfortunately, told him that something was different was going
on. Worse yet, his heart began to hint that what was happening in his life
at the moment was what his life had been made to be. PoDo was unsure
eaxactly of what that meant, but he knew it was important.
Mor covered ch’Thane’s confusion with a completion of the intended handshake
and the words, “Welcome aboard, PoDo, you’re in for quite a ride.” The
trill was thinking of the starship’s most recent universal jaunt, which had
been a phasouniversal shift through dihydrogen oxide. “Did you bring swim
trunks?”
PoDo stuck his hand forth and firmly shook Hashar’s. Strongly resisting the
urge to inquire about the trill’s suggestion of clothing suitable to
swimming, he said instead, “I think we have a problem.”
As ch’thane’s attention was drawn from the shuttle to the interaction
between PoDo and the Captain, Korr abstained from drawing a phaser at the
alien’s odd reaction upon grasping the Captain’s hand. Instead, he
continued to watch the scene, knowing that something was about to happen.
Mor said, “I’m sorry?” After PoDo repeated himself, Mor realized that he
had let the handshake linger a moment too long, and was holding PoDo’s grasp
beyond a reasonable handshake, the grasp heading into something
uncomfortable. The trill watched as the strange green creature spoke.
“I came here by direction, but I arrived in an unconventional way.” PoDo
felt he was not explaining clearly quickly enough. This feeling was
underlined by a slight movement by Korr. As the Cardassian stepped to one
side of Mor into a full perspective from PoDo’s position, PoDo looked fully
into Hashar’s eyes and said, “Something’s wrong, Captain. I’m not sure if
it’s with your ship, with me, or with the universe at large. I’m confused,
I’m afraid, and I want to know what’s going on.”
As Mor began to speak, PoDo flinched. “Understood, Mister PoDo,” Hashar
said. “Also agreed. Something odd is going on here. Don’t,” he assured,
“be afraid. Your arrival is fortuitous,” he said, gesturing toward the
recently downed shuttlecraft. “We didn’t have to wait too long for you, so
there has to be some reason you’re here.”
PoDo stared at the trill. “So you admit you were not expecting me.” After
Mor nodded, PoDo added breathlessly, “Just as I wasn’t expecting you.”
Mor nodded again. “So what can you do?” He had a strange feeling about the
past few months, and he had long since decided to just let go and let
reality take him where it needed to. He had never imagined that half of the
things that had occurred during the last two years would ever have happened,
but they had. As such, he had tried to reason out what was going on. One
thing he was certain of: the ship was building itself a crew. He imagined
the increase in crew structure as a filament: at one end was the time when,
after the original Captain had abandoned ship via shuttlecraft. At one end
was a time when the ship was fully staffed and would be tested. He was
comfortable for the moment, for the fact that the ship was not fully
staffed. Had had already come to the realization that Wayland would be as
valuable an officer as the oddly pliant blue woman that had arrived with the
Catian. He was interested by the strange gift the universe had delivered
the Missouri in the shape of a green humanoid, and wondered which cog PoDo
was to be in the great gear.
PoDo said, “What can I do?” He was caught off guard by the question, but
answered honestly. “My last assignment was as a chief shuttle pilot aboard
the starship Endurance,” he said plainly.
Hashar’s attention was yanked away from PoDo when a spiky haired man popped
his head out from the shuttlecraft’s aft section. “How many people are in
there,” Mor said, stepping closer to the man.
Spikey-hair stepped fully out of the shuttlecraft and stood to his full
height, marginally shorter than Mor. He smiled wide and assured the trill,
“I’m the last one.” Stepping forward, he stuck out a hand. “Captain Jack
Harkness,” he said by way of introduction. “Pleased to meet you.”
Hashar shook the other man’s hand fitfully. “You’re not in uniform,
Captain,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
Harkness looked down at himself, his heavy khaki pants, the blue button down
shirt and the period jacket from World War Two, on Earth, “Oh,” he said,
waving off the comment. “Not that kind of Captain. I’m ah – from a bit
before what I’m assuming is your time, Captain. I left Earth in ah – two
thousand and nine.”
Hashar whistled, “So what brought you to the shuttle and to the
twenty-fourth century . . . Captain?”
Harkness fairly laughed, “It’s Jack. Or Harkness. Hardly anyone calls me
Captain except the Doctor.”
The trill was momentarily stunned. “Did you say The Doctor?”
“Yeah,” Harkness said plainly, “the Doctor.”
“Not that man travelling in the blue box bigger-on-the-inside than the
outside?”
Harkness’ eyes lit up, “You’ve met the Doctor?” He thought hard for a
moment, and wondered which iteration of the Doctor Mor had come across.
“Dark, spiky hair, sort of like – - ” He gestured at his own head. When Mor
shook his head, Harkness asked, “Blue eyes, sandy hair, long and wavy all
flowy-like?” Harkness thought back. “Dressed like an ice-cream man? Red
and white stripes? Silly suit?”
“Leather jacket,” Mor told Jack.
“Ah!” Harkness was visibly excited, “Oh he was always my favorite. Lucky
you, you met the Doctor – was Rose with him?”
Mor said, “Yeah, listen, I hate to break up our fond memories of the Doctor,
but we need to get a crew in here to figure out how to extricate this
shuttle from the deck, and since we’re stuck in literally the middle of
nowhere, it might be a good idea for us to get this shuttle moving again
before someone else crashes into it, or pops up in it, or – whatever. Why
don’t we all head up to the observation lounge to get out of the way?”
Jack nodded, agreeing, then held up a finger and stepped back into the
shuttle for a moment, retrieving a glass jar that looked like it belonged in
a specimen laboratory. “Can’t forget my baby T,” he said, patting the
thing. “Shall we?”
Mor and the rest of the small party left and headed toward the observation
lounge.
——=_NextPart_000_0008_01CAFADB.7B528D70
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charset=”us-ascii”
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Shipmates. As promised, here’s the =
opening salvo of
our current mission. A few notes: In order to get us rolling =
quickly, I’m
temporarily abandoning the old posting method. For the time being, =
we’ll
use an SMS site for posting. You’ll need to go to =
ussmissouri.net/sms to
register for the new site and get your character online and registered =
among
ship’s personnel. SMS will allow us to write single posts as =
well as
joint posts. Any questions, comments or concerns, please let me =
know.
Without further ado, here is the Recap & =
Relaunch,
written by Mike Royer and David Moody.
The ship’s resident Cardassian, Jektal Korr, =
stood in
the back of the turbolift, eyes toward the door. At the same time, he =
was
making certain to watch both the Captain and ch’Thane. He could =
not, as
Security Chief, be certain that both men’s intentions were noble. =
He had
to doubt everyone. He thought it strange that both were so nonchalant =
about the
events unfolding. They were not shaken, they were not nonplussed. In =
fact the
trill and the Andorian seemed to be responding to this development as if =
it were
routine. Perhaps, Korr thought, this was an indication of duplicity. =
Perhaps
they knew exactly what was going on. For his entire life, he had =
wondered if he
were living in simulacrum. He thought it possible that the next =
traitorous
action could come from someone close. The closest people at the moment =
were Mor
and ch’Thane. He palmed a phaser as the lift slowed to the deck.
“Phasers out, gentlemen,” he said imploringly. Traitors or =
not, he
had to make certain that the group was ready to fight, if =
necessary.
” Aye” The andorian responded, drawing =
his
phaser and giving it a once over, to ensure it was =
serviceable.
Arriving on deck ten, the three made short work of =
the
distance to the main shuttlebay and soon found themselves outside. With =
a nod
to a pair of crewmen in security devision uniforms, who had taken up =
positions
on either side of the shuttlebay entrance, Korr was the first to =
approach the
doors.
” This PoDo may not be the shuttle’s =
only
occupant.” He warned, pausing before entering the bay. ” Be =
ready
for anything.”
In his shuttlecraft, identical to the craft fused =
into the
deck, PoDo ran a few last checks on the shuttle. These people were =
acting very
strangely. He had been dispatched to replace the shuttle they had lost =
and to
be installed as an officer aboard the ship. Strangely, the crew and =
Captain
seemed not to expect him. Missouri Actual seemed positively disturbed by
PoDo’ presence. He gathered a few things an set the =
shuttle’s
controls to respond only to him; it was a subroutine built into the =
small
ship’s software in case of hostile capture. It felt strange =
invoking it,
but he did so anyway, before stepping out, into the Missouri’s
shuttlebay. The room was still as it was silent, no engineering =
personel, no
flight crew, it was ominous and disturbing and he took a moment’s =
pause
to get his bearings, reassuring himself that this was a Federation =
Starship and
he should have nothing to fear here. It was then that his eyes came to =
rest on
something peculiar. There was another shuttle in the bay… Another =
shuttle
of precisely the same configuration and bearing an identical =
registration to
his own. PoDo, understandably dumbfounded, didn’t know what to =
make of
it. He didn’t have long to ponder this however as the sound of =
footsteps
soon broke the eerie silence and he became aware of a trio of humanoids
approaching. One of them he recognized as Captain Hashar Mor, the other =
two, a
Cardassian and an Andorian, were not familiar to him.
” This can’t be possible!” The =
Andorian
exclaimed to the others, his antennae quivering excitedly. ” =
According to
my tricorder readings these shuttles are =
identical…”
He appeared more interested in the craft than the =
new
arrival and this, along with his uniform led PoDo to deduce that he must =
be
from flight control. The Cardassian on the other hand was obviously from =
the
Missouri’s security devision and it showed in his mannerisms. Cool =
and
composed, he moved like a predator. The fact that the shuttles were at =
first
glance identical was of little consequence to him, so long as it =
didn’t
impact the safety of the ship.
The lone alien braced himself, trying to appear =
calm as they
drew nearer. Something was very wrong here and he got the distinct =
impression
that from their perspective that something was him.
Crouched
there in the depths of his shuttlecraft fused into the deck astride it, =
PoDo
understood. His understanding was deep, sudden, and =
mind-altering.
Thirty seconds ago, the little green man had =
dropped into a
crouch and hugged his shins to himself because the situation had been =
one that
was so terribly strange, twisted, and beyond understanding that had felt =
like a
kind of death. The departure from the usual intellectual and =
physical
input had been so intense that his mind fought with the idea of The =
Happening
having been a universal jump.
The shuttle’s sensors had gone haywire just =
before his
goal: The Missouri had been there one moment, and then the next, =
it was
replaced by a strange, twisting unreality. Then space had returned, and =
the
Missouri had returned. The instruments of the shuttlecraft =
however, had
been drafted off into the realm of broken watch-dials. The laws of =
one
universe seemed to be colliding with the laws of another. PoDo was =
afraid
that he himself was going mad. Looking around and breathing the =
air,
however, was defining. It told him that what he sensed as air was =
real,
and that what he felt as the world had not changed. Something =
still, was
remarkably different, and Podo was desperately afraid. Something =
was completely
wrong here, and the little officer found himself emotionally unprepared =
to deal
with it. Attackers and defilers and epidemics were =
combatable. A
situation could be irreparable. This one, it seemed, was. At =
the
very least, it was unreconcilable in his mind.
Ten seconds ago, it had occurred to PoDo that the =
situation
was strange only because of his entry into it. Had he not entered =
it, the
situation would have remained the same. Captain Mor would have =
received
his replacement vessel and new crewman, and the ship would have =
continued on
whatever Starfleet-ordained-mission this ship had been upon. =
Missouri
would have continued along with the strange crew — the Cardassian
Security Officer, for instance. Mor would have continued along =
with the Intrepid
class starship that, according to PoDo’s navigational system, was =
not
anywhere near where the rendezvous and replenishment had been =
planned.
Two seconds ago, PoDo had decided that he was here =
for a
reason.
PoDo stood, and peeked his head from an aft edge of =
the shuttlecraft.
“Lieutenant PoDo,” he said, striding into view, =
“reporting
for duty.” He was determined to pass whatever test of his =
life this
was. He decided that he had to go along with this new thing, lest =
he be
lost in miscomprehensionHe viewed this situation as a sort of enemy, and =
he
knew that he would have to be the victor.
Mor thought that this humanoid was like none he had =
ever
seen, and he stopped walking toward it. He saw that there were
similarities in this being to other species he had come to know, =
but his
mind reeled, searching for a lock on the particular genetic markers that =
would
tell him who he was dealing with. There were Vulco-humanoid =
ears,
green skin with a gradient that flowed vertically, and antennae — =
but not
those like ch’Thane, who was intent on the craft PoDo had arrived =
in;
these were more pliant, reminding Hashar of a cartoon, or a comic. =
He
reached out to shake PoDo’s hand. “Captain Mor,” =
he
said plainly, and was pleased by PoDo’s identical response. =
As
their hands were about to clasp, Korr pulled forth his phaser.
“You’ll want to stop now,” he said,deep, =
subtextual
warning dripping from his voice. “That’s =
ah–” he
peered toward Mor. “Not a good idea at present,” he =
said,
nodding reassuringly.
ch’Thane’s attention was abruptly drawn =
from his
intent analysis of the shuttlecraft. “Why =
not?”
Korr’s gaze turned dark as he glared toward
chThane. “I’d imagine,” he said, “that you =
would
prefer that your Commanding Officer remain intact.”
ch’Thane nodded. “First contact =
with an
unknown species, got you.”
PoDo’s head turned sharply toward the =
Andorian, whose
structure was imminently familiar. “Unknown =
Species?”
PoDo belonged to of a Federationites that had been around since the =
foundation
of the structure.
ch’Thane looked wordlessly toward Mor, =
apologetic for
having let the bit about the “unknown species” =
slip.
In PoDo’s mind, it had now been established =
that the
Missouri had not truly expected PoDo, and briefly, he wished that he =
were still
crouching in the shuttle. Better yet, he wished that he were still
heading toward the Missouri. He hoped he had fallen asleep and =
were
having some grand dream. His heart, unfortunately, told him that
something was different was going on. Worse yet, his heart began =
to hint
that what was happening in his life at the moment was what his life had =
been
made to be. PoDo was unsure eaxactly of what that meant, but he =
knew it
was important.
Mor covered ch’Thane’s confusion with a
completion of the intended handshake and the words, “Welcome =
aboard,
PoDo, you’re in for quite a ride.” The trill was =
thinking of
the starship’s most recent universal jaunt, which had been a
phasouniversal shift through dihydrogen oxide. “Did you =
bring swim
trunks?”
PoDo stuck his hand forth and firmly shook =
Hashar’s.
Strongly resisting the urge to inquire about the trill’s =
suggestion of
clothing suitable to swimming, he said instead, “I think we have a
problem.”
As ch’thane’s attention was drawn from =
the
shuttle to the interaction between PoDo and the Captain, Korr abstained =
from
drawing a phaser at the alien’s odd reaction upon grasping the
Captain’s hand. Instead, he continued to watch the scene, =
knowing
that something was about to happen.
Mor said, “I’m sorry?” =
After PoDo
repeated himself, Mor realized that he had let the handshake linger a =
moment
too long, and was holding PoDo’s grasp beyond a reasonable =
handshake, the
grasp heading into something uncomfortable. The trill watched as =
the
strange green creature spoke.
“I came here by direction, but I arrived in =
an
unconventional way.” PoDo felt he was not explaining clearly
quickly enough. This feeling was underlined by a slight movement =
by
Korr. As the Cardassian stepped to one side of Mor into a full
perspective from PoDo’s position, PoDo looked fully into =
Hashar’s
eyes and said, “Something’s wrong, Captain. I’m =
not
sure if it’s with your ship, with me, or with the universe at
large. I’m confused, I’m afraid, and I want to know
what’s going on.”
As Mor began to speak, PoDo flinched.
“Understood, Mister PoDo,” Hashar said. “Also
agreed. Something odd is going on here. Don’t,” =
he
assured, “be afraid. Your arrival is fortuitous,” he =
said,
gesturing toward the recently downed shuttlecraft. “We =
didn’t
have to wait too long for you, so there has to be some reason =
you’re
here.”
PoDo stared at the trill. “So you admit =
you were
not expecting me.” After Mor nodded, PoDo added =
breathlessly,
“Just as I wasn’t expecting you.”
Mor nodded again. “So what can you
do?” He had a strange feeling about the past few months, and =
he had
long since decided to just let go and let reality take him where it =
needed
to. He had never imagined that half of the things that had =
occurred
during the last two years would ever have happened, but they had. =
As
such, he had tried to reason out what was going on. One thing he =
was
certain of: the ship was building itself a crew. He imagined the =
increase
in crew structure as a filament: at one end was the time when, after the
original Captain had abandoned ship via shuttlecraft. At one end =
was a
time when the ship was fully staffed and would be tested. He was
comfortable for the moment, for the fact that the ship was not fully
staffed. Had had already come to the realization that Wayland =
would be as
valuable an officer as the oddly pliant blue woman that had arrived with =
the
Catian. He was interested by the strange gift the universe had =
delivered
the Missouri in the shape of a green humanoid, and wondered which cog =
PoDo was
to be in the great gear.
PoDo said, “What can I do?” He =
was caught
off guard by the question, but answered honestly. “My last
assignment was as a chief shuttle pilot aboard the starship =
Endurance,”
he said plainly.
Hashar’s attention was yanked away from PoDo =
when a
spiky haired man popped his head out from the shuttlecraft’s aft
section. “How many people are in there,” Mor said, =
stepping closer
to the man.
Spikey-hair stepped fully out of the shuttlecraft =
and stood
to his full height, marginally shorter than Mor. He smiled wide =
and assured
the trill, “I’m the last one.” Stepping forward, =
he stuck
out a hand. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he said by way of
introduction. “Pleased to meet you.”
Hashar shook the other man’s hand =
fitfully.
“You’re not in uniform, Captain,” he said, raising an
eyebrow.
Harkness looked down at himself, his heavy khaki =
pants, the
blue button down shirt and the period jacket from World War Two, on =
Earth,
“Oh,” he said, waving off the comment. “Not that =
kind of
Captain. I’m ah – from a bit before what I’m =
assuming is
your time, Captain. I left Earth in ah – two thousand and =
nine.”
Hashar whistled, “So what brought you to the =
shuttle
and to the twenty-fourth century . . . Captain?”
Harkness fairly laughed, “It’s =
Jack. Or
Harkness. Hardly anyone calls me Captain except the =
Doctor.”
The trill was momentarily stunned. “Did =
you say The
Doctor?”
“Yeah,” Harkness said plainly, =
“the
Doctor.”
“Not that man travelling in the blue box
bigger-on-the-inside than the outside?”
Harkness’ eyes lit up, “You’ve =
met the
Doctor?” He thought hard for a moment, and wondered which =
iteration of
the Doctor Mor had come across. “Dark, spiky hair, sort of =
like – -
“ He gestured at his own head. When Mor shook his head, =
Harkness asked,
“Blue eyes, sandy hair, long and wavy all flowy-like?” =
Harkness
thought back. “Dressed like an ice-cream man? Red and =
white stripes?
Silly suit?”
“Leather jacket,” Mor told =
Jack.
“Ah!” Harkness was visibly =
excited, “Oh
he was always my favorite. Lucky you, you met the Doctor – =
was Rose with
him?”
Mor said, “Yeah, listen, I hate to break up =
our fond
memories of the Doctor, but we need to get a crew in here to figure out =
how to
extricate this shuttle from the deck, and since we’re stuck in =
literally
the middle of nowhere, it might be a good idea for us to get this =
shuttle
moving again before someone else crashes into it, or pops up in it, or =
–
whatever. Why don’t we all head up to the observation lounge =
to get out
of the way?”
Jack nodded, agreeing, then held up a finger and =
stepped
back into the shuttle for a moment, retrieving a glass jar that looked =
like it
belonged in a specimen laboratory. “Can’t forget my =
baby T,”
he said, patting the thing. “Shall we?”
Mor and the rest of the small party left and headed =
toward
the observation lounge.
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