Brook winced inwardly as she assumed her position behind the lectern. “Appeal” made it sound like she was some kind of criminal. “Thank you, Mr. Divar. I’m here today to let you all know about an opportunity by which this committee could demonstrate its support for the Interstellar Emergency Service, which, as you all undoubtedly know, is a very popular agency with the Meltian public.”
“Captain Brook,” Representative Divar said, “how was the Kindred Spirit destroyed?”
That stopped Brook cold. She still had almost three minutes of JP-written introduction before she was supposed to so much as hint at the fact that the Kindred Spirit was no longer in service.
“Right,” Brook said. “Funny story, that.”
Divar glared at her.
“Not funny. A very serious story.” Brook scrolled to her notes about the incident itself. “So, the IES has monitoring probes across the galaxy, orbiting stars that are likely to go supernova. They’re pretty dumb probes, just taking sensor readings of their star and slowly changing their orbital inclination so they get the full picture over time. Anyway, one of these probes smacked into a station owned by Griffin Space Technologies.” There was a disclaimer scribbled in the margins of her notes. “Now, for the record, let me note that space is very, very big, and our probes are very, very small, so there is no way this would have happened if they had not been intentionally following our probe, and let me also note that this GST station was completely unregistered and actually used scanner-jamming technology, so there was no way we could have avoided this accident.”
The members of the committee did not seem very impressed. In fact, eight of them still looked downright hostile, while the other—a woman in a light blue cape—just looked confused. Time to turn this around, lest Brook be compelled to jump through all the bureaucratic hoops before she got her new ship.
“But we’re not traffic cops, we’re the Emergency Service.” Brook gave the committee a warm smile. “So when this unregistered station calls up and says they’ve lost their flip drive and thrusters—stranding them in orbit around the maybe-supernova—we swoop in to save the day. Unfortunately, since they were already unsafely close to the star, the probe collision put them on a course to get an unpleasant solar haircut, so we had to get them out fast. We wanted to evacuate them, but they wouldn’t leave their precious space station, and we couldn’t fit it inside our hangars, so we had to basically strap them to the nose of the Spirit and strain our own flip drive to push them away. Unfortunately, the load was too much, and our flip drive... basically exploded. On the bright side, we managed to get everyone—even the GST people—onto lifeboats before we sprayed the Erian system with chunks of Kindred Spirit.”
Perhaps “chunks of Kindred Spirit” was not the most positive image to end on. Brook added, “I think providing for such a popular agency to acquire a new ship...” She glanced at her notes, plucking a few choice words from JP’s introduction. “...is an uncontroversial and pan-partisan objective. Any questions?”
The woman in the blue cape—Representative Arriet—looked like she was about to say something when Divar cut her off. “This committee has everything it needs to deliberate on this appeal.”
What? JP had told her she would spend the majority of her time fielding questions from the representatives.
Divar rested his elbows on the desk, steepling his hands. “With the committee’s assent, we will move to a vote on whether to grant Captain Brook her ship. Those in favor?”
Seven of his colleagues raised their fingers in assent.
Arriet folded her arms. “What are you doing, Divar?”
Divar gave her a confused glance, but then shook his head and turned back to Brook. “This committee is now called to a vote. Captain Brook, you may leave the chamber.”
Now was probably not a good time to upset Divar further. Whatever she had done to upset him in the first place. Brook found JP waiting outside the chamber.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“They knew,” Brook said. “They knew the Spirit was destroyed before I said a word.”
JP’s black eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, an aide opened the door with another calamitous groan. “Captain Brook.”
That didn’t take long.
When Brook followed the aide back inside, she found Arriet giving Divar a distasteful look. Divar seemed to be ignoring his fellow representative.
“Captain Brook,” he said, “this committee has voted to deny your appeal.”
Brook opened her mouth, but she had somehow forgotten to breathe. After sucking in a quick breath, she said, “Mr. Divar, we are the Interstellar Emergency Service. We can’t operate without a ship.”
“That is true,” Divar said. “The IES will be forced to temporarily pause their activities. We will ensure that proper paperwork is delivered to the headquarters of the Meltian Republic Emergency Service here in Telahmir, at which point they will have the option to either absorb current IES employees into their main organization or furlough them.”
Brook maintained her composure even as Divar’s words wrenched open a hole in her gut. Sure, the operation hadn’t gone perfectly, but sacrificing the Spirit enabled her to ensure the safety of hundreds of lives—both those of the GST employees and of her own crew. And as her reward, this committee was taking her command. They were killing the IES, which she had brought to life and nurtured into an organization that did a tremendous amount of good for the Republic and the galaxy.
“Captain Brook, you may leave the chamber.”
“Thank you all for your consideration.” Brook relinquished the lectern and departed the committee’s chambers.
Outside, JP asked, “What happened?”
“Nothing good,” Brook said, but she stopped herself before she gave JP a full rundown of the committee’s verdict. The IES did not need a captain to complain about its problems—it needed one to come up with its solutions. Brook might not have those solutions in hand just yet, but all that meant was that she and JP had their work cut out for them. After all, she had given birth to the IES—she was not about to let it die.
“How long would it take to get the paperwork together to shut down the IES?” Brook asked.
“Two days, if one works efficiently,” JP said.
Brook nodded. “Then that’s how much time we have to find a way around this committee.”
JP’s eyes widened in comprehension. “I see.” Though the IES was never JP’s brainchild, he had been the Emergency Service administrator in charge of reviewing her petition to create it, so he was at least a midwife.
Brook clasped her hands behind her back and began to pace. They still had to figure out how to obtain a ship—there were just a few more variables in play now. Beyond the window-dominated wall opposite the committee chamber, Meltia’s star was visible, casting progressively longer shadows as it sank toward the horizon. Any other modern city would be swarmed by hovercars, but Telahmir’s pedestrian culture meant that only a handful flitted across the skyline. The tranquility of the capital’s airspace mocked the intensity of Brook’s thoughts.
JP said, “Their order to shut down the IES will list our lack of a vessel in its preamble as a justification. If we could prove that condition invalid—by acquiring a ship—we could petition the Emergency Service to contest the order, preventing it from taking effect.”