Voyage of the Star Killer

Chapter 3

The guest speaker glanced up from her notes and reached out telepathically to her grandmother. That woman's voice laughed in her mind. 

*Hello Granddaughter. Your grandfather and I are having a grand time. He's taken me back to all our R&R haunts. It's so much better when you have someone to spend it with. How goes your lecture? Have you discussed my foolishness, and my penchant for trouble? I really was such a mess when we first started out! Oh, you're doing well! The president of the academy is recording the series of talks; he'll be able to include them in their classes on Alliance History. He's very proud of you. We're very proud of you. Have fun, Dear. Love you.*

She tapped her papers together on her podium and grinned briefly. "Grandfather, make sure you remind her how beautiful she is, yeah?" She spoke quietly, but those in the first couple rows heard her and shook their heads, glancing around for the admiral and his wife. She flushed and called the room back to order. "My grandmother wanted me to assure you that even a great Lady such as herself still made mistakes, especially in the beginning. More than 300 years ago, she was still just a babe herself. Valuable, but only a child. She did childish, or foolish things, and needed Admiral Gireau's protection, even if she didn't know how to ask for it."

Section 1. Remillion 9

Archive: 2188.01.01-2188.08.30

*****Excerpt*****

Galena Hopper, Chief Medical Officer on this ship of over 4500, sighed in disbelief. A thousand civilians, colonists, and army personnel crowded into the cargo bay, bringing with them their uncertainty, distress, and hopes. Projecting an air of expectation and upset, they interrupted the as-yet to be established flow of the crew of the Star-Killer. Dr. Hopper groaned in distress as the Remillion interpreter placed a hand on a heavily-laden belly. "Bed-rest for the foreseeable future, Ms. Cline." 

She commed Midshipman Corrolles and waited impatiently for the ship's strongest linguist to appear. Two other linguists approached warily as she scowled. "Where is Corrolles?" She barked, startling the ensigns. 

"Sorry, Sir. She grew ill just outside the doors. We were concerned about possible contamination so sent her to quarters. We'll do our best but no one else has studied Remillion in the two years they've known of this cooperation." 

Dr. Hopper sighed, disappointed. "I'll stop by to see her as soon as some order comes to this chaos. In the meantime, do what you can. The colonists at least speak Alliance Common." She glared at the linguists as she watched them set to work then followed so she could administer exams and medications.

 Later, she visited the midshipman's quarters where she listened as the linguist described a sudden-onset violent illness. Hopper frowned in thought as she left the young woman confined to quarters. She startled when she encountered Commander Venturie lingering outside the girl's cabin, hand flying to her chest to calm her racing heart. "Oh! You startled me." She grabbed his arm and turned him away. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me. Midshipman Corrolles is deathly ill and under quarantine, which is unfortunate as the survivors refuse to use the translation program and their interpreter is ill. Why the Remillions refuse to learn United Alliance Common, I will never understand; however, the colonists have only just begun to learn Remillion and every linguist I've encountered insists that the midshipman is the best at languages."

Dr. Hopper grimaced as Venturie frowned over his shoulder. She didn't like the display of concern he exhibited for the much younger girl. "I'm sure there's someone else who can translate and interpret for you, Dr. Hopper. I will inform the Captain at once, as there could be an outbreak."