The Ugly Boat-The Crew Speaks (Friends only, please)

[AndyH]

[Archive] Chief Medical Officers Report: James Garner, Ivergordon Space Port. April 28, 817.

Summary: Subject, adult male, age unknown, name also unknown. The patient’s neural net was examined, and technicians report back that much of the data was corrupted. The only physical means of identification retrieved was a badly set of custom dog tags reading “Andy H-.” The rest was too damaged to be scanned. Due to the critical nature of the wounds, the patient had been rushed to Ivergordon Space Port on a vessel returning from delivering medical contraband to the front lines.

I will now relate the circumstances. The patient was found aboard the remains of an orphan transport within Tau-31, during the most intense action within the Leeds Star System to date. Rescue Paramedics boarding the craft found him surrounded by nearly one hundred young children attempting to tend the patient’s severe burns and multiple penetrating injuries to the cranium and left side extremities. Some of the older ones had been able to pry open a damaged compartment before it completely vented to space, pull him inside, and reseal the door. They managed to use first aid units to prevent shock and to stem blood loss, among other crude techniques that could have killed him just as easily. In fact had the injuries to his cranium not been of a penetrating nature, allowing fluid to drain from swelling brain tissue, the man probably would have died within an hour of the initial trauma.

They claim that he was a volunteer guiding such refugees on Leeds to evacuation transports during the current siege. It is known that some of these evac ships broadcasting “Kiddie Sky” transponder codes are misidentified due to the poor environment, or sometimes attacked by slavers brazen enough to venture behind the lines in Tau-31. But the most common cause of these incidents have been because some fool thought some other fool was abusing the transponder for strategic reasons. Whatever the circumstances were will never be known, because testimony of many orphans during evaluation indicated only that this particular ship was being boarded by someone, and the patient protected the children by setting off repositioned fuel canisters as scuttling charges. The rescue ship also indicate this is the case, as both the engineering and crew sections of the ship had been blasted away from within, giving the appearance of catastrophic secondary explosions that would leave no survivors. I believe the patient suffered his injuries from an ill-timed explosion which occurred just as a damage control airlock was closing.

I would not usually include these non-medical details, but this is an unusual case that requires more than the usual documentation. The patient recovered from his coma and further sedation, but was found to have no memories of any kind. He was still functional and could speak, but otherwise a blank slate. This is no surprise, given the shrapnel the trauma team had to extract from his cranium. But surgery revealed previous and semi-skilled intrusions and failed attempts at artificial memory implants. After the Sector’s experiences with the Nomad and Wilde, I discreetly contacted various experts through secure channels and 3rd parties, and sent them my data. Their response was that this was extremely crude work, even by human standards, and that psychological evaluation was enough to establish security risks. None of these parties within the nearby major houses had any record of his identity using physical means such as dental records, DNA tracing, finger prints, retinal scans, or any other such method. Neither were quiet inquiries among our various clients successful.

The patient underwent weeks of comprehensive psychological screening. Initial reports indicate that he often has the bearing that one would expect from a soldier, but absent are indications that he has undergone such combat training. Even though his memories are gone, many functions remain such as muscle memory and ingrained reflex. There is evidence of some personality stripping and deep mental conditioning, but this is muddied by effects of previous and current neurological damage.

Noted is the patient’s cooperativeness. Testing indicates severe difficulties in intentional deception. Even when asked to try, under neurofunction scan, he fails to show even child-level skills in this area. The best the patient can succeed at is to withhold the truth when instructed, and the psychologist that was shipped in states that she has never seen a person with such willpower. She described the results as “the guy is like a bulldog with a bone.” He even turns this poor skill around because he appears so inept that it is easy to assume he is some rookie that doesn’t know anything. Also noted is his means of compensating, arranging how to not know what someone else shouldn’t. It is believed that the patient at some point received anti-interrogation “treatments,” but at least one procedure must have backfired in some way. But again with all the recent damage, it is hard to tell what happened in the past.

I have notified security that the patient is not a security risk to this facility. In fact, he demonstrates an extremely protective nature of those he deems worthy. However, although we can’t prove anything, I believe he was involved in placing holo-emitters in the room of patient #19523, after the man displayed schizophrenic and dangerous behavior toward Nurse Johansen. Patient #19523 has since been relocated to a Manhattan psychiatric ward as beyond rehabilitation after a sharp decline in mental health. Again, we can’t prove anything. Just that he is not a danger to this facility or its staff. [Archive Ends]


Testimony: Ship’s Cook, Charles DeForest, 19. The Ugly Boat.

Look, I will be honest. In fact, the Captain ordered us to be honest with this, and that if we needed to mutter about him in a bad light, it was our duty to do so. The man’s primary loyalty is the truth. Not that he don’t know what ain’t someone’s business, mind you. Assuming he could remember long enough to blab about it. Not that he says much, either.

Okay. I would rather this ship stay independent, but where the Captain goes, I go. He is not like any boss I ever worked under before, and I’ve been workin’ since I was twelve. As a person, no one can figure him out. He’s just too different than the rest of us. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I owe him.

One time I… you know how it is on Freeports. One moment you’re drinking, the next you wake up married. But in my case it was to some little Hogosha laundry chick. I mean, we both are in serious trouble, our sides being nearly on “shoot-on-sight” terms and all. So we pretend it didn’t happen… until three weeks later I get word that she was having a kid. You know what their culture is like. Their sense of honor is… well, never mind. Anyways, my life is ruined. Either word is going to get out to us Junkers that I’m involved with the Hogosha, they’re going to find me in a bar and kill me in an honor duel, post a bounty on me, or heaven help me, the ship. And after the Locker Incident, everyone knows that you don’t hide things that could affect the ship from the Captain.

So I go to the Captain about what happened. I mean, I’m expecting to get put off on the next planet with a blacklisted name. That’s what any other skipper would do, me being a security risk and all. But not my Captain. He sits with me during lunch and talks with me about it. I mean, he didn’t ask me any detailed questions. He’s not a verbal person, really. Not when it actually matters. He just listened. Then he asked me one question. “How do you feel about your kid?”

That really got to me. All that time I was talking about myself. That made it sink in that I was going to be a dad. I mean, I’ve barely started out in life and I’ve got a freaking family. I’m thinking that drunk girl that woke up as my wife is in even more trouble than I am. And my kid is right there in the middle of whatever they will do to her. I just sit there stunned. Now the Captain don’t do anything that a regular person would do, like yell, joke, or put a hand on my shoulder. He just says he’s got my back if I want to stand up and take responsibility for my own like a man should.

Next thing I know, the Captain hired this hot-shot negotiator from the Zoners, not to mention a dang expensive lawyer from Manhattan, and there is this meeting going on to "settle damages." It’s all above my head, but I guess that is what Zoners and lawyers are for. Anyways, after a few weeks this wifey of mine is transferred to the Freelancer station Newport in Sigma-13; the entire complaint department for the GMG to yell at about the Hogosha’s activities. I think her people gave it to her as a punishment, ‘cause that job just sucks. But we pass through pretty often on our scrap runs, and she shuttles over to Ogashawa to “accept complaints personally.” Also the Captain manages to have an equipment breakdown in the area.

I don’t think anyone is fooling anybody, but maybe they all go along with it because it gives everyone a chance to keep an eye on everyone else. But I get a chance to spend time owning up and taking care of my family like a man should. Don’t get me wrong or anything. She still hates that I’m a Junker, and I hate that she’s from Hogosha. But we manage to check the universe’s problems at the door and focus on our own. I mean, we’ve got this little one coming to protect from all that, right? Plus the Captain insists that we keep a complete record to send to the lawyer each time, in case any accusations come up.

I’ll always be a Junker, and the wife will probably be Hogosha until the baby is born. She’ll probably keep those ties too, even if she is seen as not quite an honorable woman. I guess in her culture being married before getting knocked up counts for something, so she’s not a total disgrace. But no matter what happens, the kid is taken care of. Captain set up a trust fund so the little guy will be able to choose to be whatever he wants to be in life. Of course bein’ a cook, the wife is pretty amazed what I can do with ice cream and bacon. And my wife? Well, she’s getting big and all, but she still manages to teach me things. I know that lawyer doesn’t pry into our recorded conversations, because he hasn’t had a heart attack yet. I mean, holy cow!

I’ll keep my nose clean, but not because of what other Junkers or Hogosha might do. It’s what the Captain would do. If he went to all that effort and paid all that money to work things out, just to give me the opportunity to man up and care for my kid, what lengths will he go to if I let him down? God, the rookie only brought a box on board…


Testimony: Assistant Navigator, Carl Haggan, 27. The Ugly Boat.

The Captain. He is a good man. Patient most times, tries hard to understand others. If you’ve got a problem he’s willing to help out with it. I think he’s like that because he’s rarely gotten it himself. Everyone knows he can’t remember his past, but it seems like some impressions remain from back during the war. You know what I mean? But deep down, the Captain scares me.

Ninety-nine percent of the time he is fine and could be the best boss you could ask for. Weird, but good. As long as the jobs get done, he don’t care if you work hard or not. He so generous it’s almost crazy. Like, he comes down sometimes to play cards with the crew. Most bosses won’t, because if they win they’d be seen as taking advantage of the crew. The Captain? He loses big every time. Only he loses honestly. It’s not some morale game with him. He truly is the worst card player I’ve ever seen, and he knows he is. But losing a hundred grand to the crew in an honest game really does wonders, and he knows that too.

But that is a double-edged vibroblade. The Captain takes confidence seriously. He gives it out freely a lot of the time. But God help you if you betray it. He can’t remember a lot of day-to-day things for more than a few seconds, but he never forgets that. Ever. If it happens, he puts everyone on notice as if he is the personification of Purpose itself.

Someone told you about the Locker Incident, right? We get a new hire, it is the first thing we tell the new guy. The Captain runs a lax ship in a lot of ways, but that’s not excuse to abuse that trust. He runs a clean ship. No Cardamine. Not ever. I know a lot of independent ships sneak in a box or two of something somebody doesn't want someone else to know about. Not our Captain, unless it is a sanctioned humanitarian effort.

This one run, a new guy snuck a small stash of Cardamine into his footlocker. I mean some crewmen may have their own stash to make a little on the side and it's not a real big deal, right? Not this ship. Most of the time the Captain is pretty lax with the crew, but he does a complete flip when you make your business his business and try to hide it. It’s personal to him. Anyway the rookie got busted in a surprise inspection by the XO. Most other "clean" ships would just space the box. Not the Captain. When he smells a threat, he deals with the threat. And I don’t mean in the human way.

The first thing he did was rip into him in front of everyone for endangering the ship and the rest of the crew. It was like we were in some military and he was an offended drill instructor that had just found a big turd inside his shoe. He didn’t even raise his voice much. It was the Force of Will he drove that notice home with. The Captain took the box and tossed it into the airlock, then suited the rookie and tossed him in too. He said he couldn’t be relied on and if he was going to be like that, he would be very welcome on the next ship that passed through. Then the Captain spaced them for the Indy ship behind us to pick up. After that he turned around and asked us if anyone else wanted to join him.

Look. Ship captains get mad. They yell, chew you out, say things like walking back to port with only an EVA suit. But at most they will dump you off at the next stop. My Captain? He means what he says, and he says it with Purpose, not anger. We police ourselves now, because heaven help the next guy that forces the Captain to deal with something when we know better. The Captain can be the best, most reliable and loyal Captain a crew could have. But he can also become one’s worst nightmare, riding the flames of hell itself.


Testimony: Engineer, Richard Logan, 53. The Ugly Boat.

Aye, the Captain is a bit of an oddball, alright. Take this example. Most ships make a point of pride, like the fastest ship, the most nimble, the best accuracy, the most deadly, the toughest hull, the fastest mining; all sorts of stuff. Our ship? Our Captain brags that we have the fastest launching escape pods in the sector. Real weird, huh? Makes people scratch their heads. That’s because the Captain don’t think along the same lines as normal folk. Gosh, you take one look at those scars and you think “How could he, with all that crap they had to dig out of his brain?”

Well, sometimes we get run down by some idiot with a bomber. Only never when we’re loaded. Strange how that works. Anyway, some jerkoff will be making demands. The usual things. Only the Captain honestly questions their intelligence in trying to rob an empty ship with nothing to lose except the proposed payoff. Then he don’t even fight back. Says he won’t play their game, and off we go off in our pods. Aye, the ship gets blasted pretty good, and it leaves people all puzzled like. The Captain will be sailing away smiling because he robbed the other side of the victory rush in not fighting a battle he couldn’t win anyway.

Plus it is a bit of a scam. See, the Captain had me run scuttling charges all through the ship. Aye, I thought he was out of his mind at first. But see, later I figure it out. When the ship does go down like that, it is really a controlled demolition. Looks spectacular. We run a Salvager, you know. Probably the only Salvager class ship that can salvage itself. Aye, that is right. A day later when the area’s clear, we come back and wield the ship back together. We lose some stuff, and have to put into port for major repairs. But even when we lose the ship, we don’t lose the ship. Aye, we have the fastest launching escape pods in the sector all right. But few folk really know what that means.

Testimony: First Officer William Gram, 47. The Ugly Boat.

Well, I’ve been with the Captain a few years. In fact, I met him not too long after the war between Kusari and Bretonia cooled off. Now the thing to understand is this: When you think you understand the Captain, remind yourself that you don’t understand at all. What I mean is that, yes he is straight up and what you see is what you get. Just don’t interpret anything like you would for the rest of us. The man just doesn’t exist in a world of implied information, so don’t rely on what you may think is implied.

It’s kind of sad, really. Our Captain is human, but exists outside of the human condition. Like all the things that tell us how to be people were stripped away from him, and was left in his own private cell of humanity. As much as we don’t really understand him, he doesn’t understand us either. I mean why people are the way they are.

The Captain has two different sides to himself. One is like someone you would expect to be a 1st grade teacher. The other is that of a wolf that has adopted a flock of sheep as his pack. There are a lot of rumors about his past, but whoever was the desperate fool who messed with his head should rot in hell. It is like they split him in half and tried to make some weapon out of him, only it didn’t work like they expected. I can tell the difference, because normal people have a scale of 1 to 10. Right? The Captain has a scale of 1 OR 10. Nothing in between. When that wolf part comes out, he stops thinking like a person, and starts processing like a weapon system. No different than a smart gun or homing missile. Find the target, smash it flat. Only then is he back to his usual self.

There is a lot of speculation about where he came from and what he was. Most are that he was some soldier that washed out and served in a milita. That is hogwash, ‘cause someone would have been able to ID him long ago when he was being treated. I figure it was some government that was desperate and stretched thin on resources. You hear rumors from time to time about ghosts? People that don’t exist, have no name or rank, but obeyed as the right hand of God himself by Fleet Admirals? I think some hard-pressed or small time regime tried to turn him into an operative, but it didn’t work out like they expected.

Now take someone with that background, blow up his ship in a war zone, cut out his memories, and wake him up in a random hospital bay. No record of him exists to find, and no one is coming to look for him because he’s either KIA or self-terminated to avoid capture. God, if someone was looking for a clean way to start over I couldn’t think of better circumstances.

I know that is all pure speculation, but I think some remnants are still in there from the war. Little codes and things he had access to, only he doesn’t know he does. At least that is what I think. There was this one time… well, I’m the sort of Junker that has a kid in every port. One day we’re eating dinner and I get a message from Freeport 6 saying that some boy of mine was on a transport that was attacked. Sure, it made it in okay and perhaps I’m not sure which boy of mine it was, but still… you get a notice like that and your heart stops for a minute when you read that first line.

Well, the Captain looks at me and just says that it will be fine. That he is sure that somebody will answer for what happened. Then he accesses his Neural Net and sends something off real quick like. Three days later we are coming back through Texas and the news is going on about this Colonial cruiser that jumped into Tau-29 and started blowing the crap out of every ship it didn’t particularly like. Gallic patrols, Outcast raiders, GMS, EFL, damn near everybody. Then disappears back to its base.

Later I check with Communications and she goes over the logs. The Captain had signed off on the ship’s laundry report. If it was anyone else I wouldn’t think anything of it. Maybe it’s coincidence. I don’t really know. What I do know is that you could give my captain a Capship the size of a planetoid with the biggest gun in the universe and nothing would ever happen. He gets near a mailing system, it’s a whole different story...

I write this hoping that you will accept this ship, not because of the usual reasons, but for the Captain’s sake. He is a good man, and supports the crew above and beyond what any person would call crazy. In fact that is why we follow him. He’s no leader, and has absolutely no leadership skills whatsoever. He is a supporter and when our chips are down, he ante’s up with whatever it takes. Good or bad, he never holds back. But, God, if one of the Governments ever gets their hands on him… I can’t imagine what they would do to him, but afterward I’m pretty sure whole quadrants would burn. We’re all better off with him humming along and peacefully hauling scrap.