A lone,
Sarka class frigate dropped out of hyperspace on a routine checkpoint in its patrol. The modern vessel, dubbed the
OMS Surreptitious, was a relatively un-decorated vessel. Most of its service record consisted of routine patrol missions, low-key shakedown runs, and the odd training exercise. Its crew was similarly unremarkable, consisting of various beings and synthetics that were more interested in meeting military service quotas, rather than upholding the higher values of
House Io.
Admiral Burtch, a Chiss officer with plenty of accolades within the
Elysium Imperium and the
Nomadic Peoples Coalition, had chosen to inspect this vessel on a rather routine mission. In doing so, he was upholding his agreement with
Laertia Io that he would help her formalize and fortify the proficiency of her naval officers. Until recently, he had inspected a number of
reputable vessels within the House navy. They had been impressive and accommodating, as expected, being the
famous,
notable, or
flag vessels of significance within their mighty fleet. But such ships were not the root of power within any navy. Burtch understood that the true mood of a greater navy could only be observed on the more peripheral elements of a military organization. On such insignificant vessels, one would have a chance to observe the things that "fell between the cracks", so to speak. Things that a flag officer, or politician might not ever see.
So, Burtch had brought a small staff with him. Fellow officers and specialists from the
Nomadic Peoples Coalition — all with reputations and accolades of their own — to go through the little frigate and make notes of small things. It was, of course, rather intrusive and sudden, as this inspection had not been announced in advance. And the current crew was clearly not happy about the invasion of auditors breathing down their necks. A few NCOs had even voiced their protests formally. But Burtch and his team had little trouble asserting their position, presenting appropriate documents, and articulating their intentions to the crew and captain.
Thankfully, many new converts of the
Navis Sacra Religion were already members of this crew and it had not been hard to find necessary support from within. These practitioners had voiced their own struggles in getting local crewmates to adhere to Navis standards of "Angel care" and were in full support of the arrival of
Navis Sacra authority figures.
The Captain and the Chief Engineer finished talking to a group of officers on the port side bridge wing and came over to where Burtch was standing. The Captain spoke first,
"Sir, um, Admiral, my engineering staff tells me that your auditors have our technical crew running the fuel supply that runs to the engines through the emergency bypass lines so that the main lines can be cleaned. This procedure is not required for another three months, according to the maintenance schedule, and it is usually done in a drydock facility. Perhaps you can at least get your staff to back off on this particular matter?"
Burtch listened to the words of the Captain and then looked over the Chief Engineer with a critical eye. The man maintained his composure quite well for a cyborg, but the parts of him that were still organic showed elevated heat to Burtch's Chiss eyes, betraying his anger. Clearly, he was not in favour of the Navis Sacra changes to standard operating procedures. Burtch verbally responded to the Captain's statement, but kept his leer on the engineer,
"No, Captain. Those schedules are outdated according to the new maintenance procedures dictated by the Navis Sacra tenets. And this procedure can be done while on active duty without hindering the base performance of this Angel. Your technicians will proceed with the bypass and the cleaning."
Burtch emphasized the word
Angel to remind these two officers that ships were more than mere military hardware in the eyes of the Navis. However, the Engineer's face seemed to turn a shade of red in the human visible light spectrum before he spoke for himself,
"Sir… with all due respect, this is unnecessary. The prior maintenance schedule is more than sufficient to keep the lines from caking to the point of hindering engine efficiency. The schedule even takes a redundancy factor of three into consider—"
Burtch rounded on him with his glare hardening,
"And how would you feel if your performance levels were the only consideration when accounting for your health!? To an Angel, clogged, or caked fuel lines are the equivalent of indigestion to an organic! Now, as the Chief Engineer, I would encourage you to observe the difference between 'maintaining' an Angel, and 'caring' for her!"
The engineer's eyes began to get dark,
"Sir, with all due respect, this is getting a little ridiculous! This is a warship, not a —"
Suddenly, one of Burtch's attendants, a holy knight assigned as his personal bodyguard, stepped towards the man and then unfurled a side-kick right into his abdomen! The engineer flew backwards and hit the deck hard in the fetal position!
He rolled around the floor and groaned loudly as the bridge staff watched in horror. The deck officer was about to shout and order everyone to get back to work, but Burtch stared her down. He then strode over to the victim and stood over him, glaring hard,
"perhaps the pain in your own stomach will teach you to respect what your Angel goes through for your lethargic attitude."
Burtch let those words hang in the air for a long moment for the rest of the bridge crew to absorb. He was aware of how brutal this display of discipline was to the observers, but this was necessary. Many beings and synthetics still struggled to comprehend the sensibilities of the Navis Sacra Religion, and some delved into sheer ignorance. Since
Laertia Io had enlisted the Nomadic Peoples Coalition to get her navy together, the ways of the Navis Sacra Religion had been the only way to convey their higher standards. Since the very essence of the religion was elusive to most minds still, sometimes a show of brutality was necessary to get people to listen.
Suddenly, the comms officer made an announcement,
"I have a transmission for the Admiral! From the… prophets
Willow & Ivy
. They want us to investigate… a lost 'Angel', sir."
Burtch snapped his mind away from the groaning engineer and turned to the comms officer's station,
"If the Twins say we need to investigate a lost Angel, then we better investigate it."
The chief navigation officer spoke up,
"sir, do we have any data on the whereabouts of this Angel?"
Burtch smiled slightly, knowingly,
"have the sensors picked anything up along the lines of a distress signal?"
The sensor officer, a neutralizer, replied,
"no sir… wait…" she suddenly began frantically tapping her screen as chimes and bleeps started to go off,
"uh, yes. Just now… Huh. We have a location and everything, sir, but it's faint… very faint. I wouldn't have thought anything of it if you hadn't said anything. It's in deep space, about 5 minutes from here at light speed."
Burtch couldn't help but grin this time. When it came to the twins, coincidences simply didn't exist. Burtch remained quiet this time and simply shot a meaningful look at the Captain with a small nod. The Captain cleared his throat to give orders,
"plug this telemetry data into the navicomputer and let's get going immediately. I guess we have an Angel to save…"
As the ship began to orient itself for a hyper jump, Burtch pulled out a Commlink and keyed a frequency that he had memorized, “
Bishop Turner
, get to your ship in the hangar bay. This may require your involvement…”
Kalic Daws
