Milo

Where had this headache come from? Something behind his left eye throbbed like nothing else he had ever felt before. Milo tried closing and opening the eyelid, but it would not change the amount of pain. Rubbing the sides of the temples made no change. He got up from his bed, there was little reason to try anymore. His hands trembled. In the corners of his vision he saw the coffee brewer that was installed in his room. It carried an inviting look, like if it wanted him to touch it, to drain from it. His hands steadied as the thoughts went through his mind. No one would know. He just needed a short drain. If he was careful, there would be no noticeable load on the reactor.

Milo made his way across the distance between the bed and table where the coffee brewer sat. His fingers found the seams on its side and pried open the small hatch, giving him access to the brewer’s electronics. His tongue went over his lips in excitement. He placed three fingers on the circuit board.

The world slowed down, his mind darted across the circuit board and the various components on it. His body drank the electric energy from the ship through the coffee brewer. The blood deposit became distinct and he pulled back his hand, the moment came to an end, the world coming up to speed again.

...Empowered.

He tore into the deposit and the iron taste of blood rushed into his mouth, making the added capacity stop leaking from him.

His headache was gone. His body felt refreshed, invigorated and powerful. He sat down and breathed out, his very breath electrifying the air.

“Ha! I am a conduit for excited electrons,” Milo whispered.

His mind raced, his body was ready. Only the weak needed sleep. He needed to move, to do something. Who would be awake for this shift? Claire, maybe? Probably. Claire always wanted help. A great idea! Now was as good a time as any. He stepped into an overall but forgot to grab a mug of coffee and with the blood kept at a trickle he made his way through the ship. He kept his hands busy by having electrical tendrils snaking around his fingers. Electrons were always on the move, thus he also needed to be.

-

Before the workshop’s door slid open he heard that Claire was inside. A power tool being used to fasten bolts. It carried a distinct metallic sound that he would recognize anywhere. The door slid open and he entered. It sounded like Claire was deeper in the ‘shop. He walked between the tool filled racks. A new combat suit stood by the side, behind one of the racks. Dashes of red and black were colored across the grey metal. The suit itself looked slimmer and more agile than Sam’s rig, as if built for another person than him. There was a sword-like attachment on the suit’s right arm. It was Claire’s suit, he recalled from an earlier visit, but how far along she was. It looked finished.

There was a door behind the combat suit, a door which he had not seen before. What would need such a sturdy bulkhead door? Something dangerous to the ship or its crew.

He moved deeper into the workshop until he found Sam’s rig.

“Claire!” Milo yelled.

Claire almost banged her head, from surprise, against Sam’s rig as she got up on her feet. “I didn’t expect you at this time. Has anything happened? You look a bit dazzled.”

Dazzled, was she for real? He was lightning, of course he would be dazzling.

“I woke up and felt too energetic to go back to bed. I saw that you were awake from the ship’s schedule, and I guessed that since we rarely spend any time together that it would be a great moment to do some work at the same time,” Milo said.

Claire put away the power tool. “Alright, then. I am not the one turning away a happy assistent. You look well rested, so I guess it will not be a problem if we tried some things with Sam’s rig.”

“Right. Go ahead,” Milo said.

Claire moved to the right side of the hulking metal suit. “We have finished the prototypes of two new things. The lightning rod weapon, which I hope will run on your electric energy. And the converter, which I hope will be able to transform your lightning into storable energy.”

“We should let Sam sleep. Can you pilot it?” Milo asked, keeping his feet moving, a tingling sensation went through his legs if he kept them still for longer than five seconds. It felt natural, electric energy never stood still.

Claire stared at him. “You have not snorted drugs, have you? I don’t want a meth head that can throw lightning bolts in my workshop. That would be to invite accidents.”

“Nah, nothing like that. I just slept really good.” Milo laced his fingers together.

Claire activated the combat suit’s back panel, seams became distinct, fragmented and folded away. “Good. While I engineer new stuff for the Captain’s rig I am piloting it more than him. If you were to compare our hours, I am pretty sure I have him beat without contest. In his own rig, nonetheless.”

She smiled wide when saying that last part.

“I know you want to go into battle with us. You should,” Milo said, knowing very well the effect it would have on her.

Her smile vanished. “Yeah, about that.”

“Have you not convinced Sam yet?” Milo asked.

She stepped into the combat suit. Its back fragments folded back into each other and the seams disappeared as they merged. It was obvious, she was envious. She was skilled at piloting combat suits and she liked it, her engineering knowledge and intimate tinkering with the machines gave her an edge which Sam didn’t have.

“Not yet,” Claire said.

“Well, how is the new build going?” Milo asked. “I saw the suit, it looks finished.”

“You have worked in an assembly yard for starships, right?” Claire asked.

Milo nodded in agreement. That had been his old life, it felt like a lifetime ago.

“Then you must know that even though the outer bulkheads have been connected and built, the whole inside of the beast has barely been touched,” Claire said. “It’s the same with constructing combat suits. You start with the easier, bigger stuff. It’s the small details that take time. The real personification. The outside is just a shell compared to all the micro adjustments that are needed on the inside. Environmental controls, triggers, auto meds, displays, comfort and feel, all the software, ranging from machine learning and weapons tailoring. It’s a lot to do, a lot more than electrical wiring inside those.”

“Oh.” Milo felt stupid. “Those hulking machines are way more complicated than one might think.”

Claire frowned. “Hulking machines? These are state of the art weapons platforms. Mobile and destructive.”

“Well, I can only say what I know and think. There is no need to be upset with me. See it as a means to teach me,” Milo said. “We need to convince him, you should be out there with us. You move gracefully in that hulking state of the art weapons platform.”

Was that a brief laughter he heard from her?

Claire did something with the rig’s right arm. Sam’s cybernetic arm had needed a different interface to be designed and built into the rig, but Claire could disable it manually and return the original interface to be used.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Claire said. “Why do you call the Captain, Sam? He is our Captain and should be titualted as such. Why do you disregard his rank?”

The question took Milo by surprise. Captain Samuels Adam had always been Sam and nothing else. It felt wrong to call him by his rank, since they had known each other for such a long time. But Claire might be right, when you served under a starship captain, then maybe even though they were close friends, he should use rank. But how did the rank work, now that they were separated from the rest of the human world? They were their own state, their own people and the Captain created the rules that should be followed.

“Well, since Sam has never corrected me, it has always felt weird to use his rank,” Milo said. “I wonder, how do you think this whole situation should be applied in our unique situation? We are not part of the Navy you once knew. Maybe ranks are not needed anymore. At least not in the same manner as before.”

Claire’s voice originated from the rig’s speakers, but it was as clear as ever. “Discipline is key when under duress, it is what makes us keep going even though stress and anxiety tries to put us down. Just because we are not part of the human Navy, should we not abandon the tools which they provided us. It is not about idioms, it is about our survival.”

“I shall take your opinion into consideration,” Milo said.

Screw the rules. Sam was Sam. Who would try to stop Milo from doing whatever he wanted to? Who could stop a tempest of lightning? No one.

Claire turned the rig and extended its right arm towards him. The weapon that was attached to it looked shiny new. Its barrel was not a barrel, but instead a metal rod with metal wires coiled around it. This was not meant to fire lasers or projectiles. The metal rod started by the rig’s elbow and there was a black grip. Not rubber enforced for insulation, it was exposed metal. It had approximately the size of one of his hands or maybe two if he squeezed them together.

“The idea was to engineer a weapon that could for a moment store lightning bolts and then discharge them through the coiled wires. The rod stabilizes and aims the bolt,” Claire said.

A lightning weapon. Sam had talked about synergy effects, but Milo would not have been able to tell that this was what he had in mind.

“Does it work?” Milo asked.

“Maybe. I have ran it through countless tests, but simulating your energy can only get us so far,” Claire said. “The main issues we still have not been able to solve are the voltage of your electricity and how to effectively insulate the weapon from the rest of the rig and its pilot. Cannot have you burn the circuits or the Captain. Since your output varies a lot, it is difficult to adjust the amount of resistors that are needed to adapt the incoming energy. We cannot just hook you in and let you pump a bolt into it. That would be fatal.”

Milo looked at his hands, tensing and relaxing them. Claire and Sam had really thought this through. Why had he not been involved before? If he had been asked, he would have helped, he would have taken time.

“We will just have to try it out. I could have been asked before. This seems like a great asset and might have helped before,” Milo said.

Claire sighed. “Looking at how busy you are, with your ‘training’ and all that. Yeah, I don’t think so. We did ask you and you declined. So, here we are.”

“I…,” Milo started, but thought better of continuing the argument. Had he really been that distant? “How about the fuel cell? You talked about using my electricity to power the rig.”

Claire turned the rig around, the fuel cells attached at its back became visible. “These are for you to drain when in combat, but that you already knew. The rig’s own reactor core sits behind them, sealed and concealed. You see this cord here?”

Milo followed the black cable, it ran underneath the plating, but if you looked from just the right angle, you could see some parts of where it went. He was able to guess its destination.

“It is connected to the rig’s internal fuel cells, its emergency power. Those are the ones you will be filling. We also arrived at the conclusion that the Cap’n, if the reactor was switched off entirely, that those fuel cells could take over. They will not last long to power to the rig, but with your help, it might be different. Thus, they have their own isolated wiring,” Claire said. “Me and the Capt’n have not been able to solve this one yet. He came to me only a few days ago, but I have made some progress. I like the concept. There is an idea that, even if the suit’s reactor is still online, that the energy from the batteries you filled could be used for the lightning weapon. Then you don’t have to power up the weapon between each discharge.”

“It looks good. Lightning in a bottle,” Milo said. “I guess you ran into the same problems as with the weapon, concerning the variety of my output and the insulation between the wiring against the remaining rig and the pilot. Feels like a constant problem.”

Claire nodded through the rig’s helmet. “Yeah. But I stumbled upon another thing last night. With the weapon, the lightning charge can be stored temporarily inside the coils around the rod, because the bolt should be released shortly after. But when we want to store the lightning for a longer duration a new issue arises. Can you guess what it can be? What usually happens when you touch an external source of energy?”

“I absorb it,” Milo said. “It’s a passive attribute, which means I have little control over it. If I touch a source of electric energy I absorb it no matter what. To a degree, at least.”

“Correct! So the input has to be one-sided. Somehow,” Claire said.

The direction of electricity could be controlled, by setting the two different endpoints with either a positive or negative charge. This was achieved in every electrical system, in every computer. But since it was his power that would be the input of energy and by nature it varied a lot. It made it difficult to predict how to control the flow.

“The erratic nature of your power makes it difficult,” Claire said. “Magic, my ass. Can a passive attribute be turned into an active one?”

“Claire, I actually don’t know. I have never explored that aspect,” Milo said.

Claire reached and turned the rig, giving him easy access to the right arm’s grip. “There is one way for us to find out and there are many that will not help us. Standing there speculating is one. Grip and try charging the weapon first. The Cap’n will be awestruck if we solve the problem. Or maybe angry because he missed the friendship bonding moment between us.”

Claire didn’t have Beth’s and Birgittas scientific and meticulous approach to solving problems, she had a more direct approach. It was refreshing. She and the Doc were an item, how could that work? Diego would never jump into the deep end, but Claire would. Relationships were weird.

Milo gripped the black metal bar, it was cold to the touch, he didn’t drain from the rig since this part was insulted from the other electrical systems and the weapon had for the moment no electrical charge. “I am ready. If I electrocute you, you will have to tell Sam, because I will not.”

“Well, I would be dead,” Claire said. “It is not that dangerous. The worst that can happen is that the rig is damaged. If that happens, you will have to tell him.”

Milo nodded.

With the blood still trickling along his tongue, electrical tendrils came to life and merged inside his hands, in the small space between his palms and the metal bar. The lightning bolt thundered into the rig, the hulking metal suit shook in its place. Tendrils snaked away, curling around the coils of the weapon.

An explosion and deafening crackle, and everything turned black.

Milo opened his eyes again, why was he lying on the floor? He shook his head, it hurt, came to and up on his feet again. But he had to lean against the wall since his balance was off. The rig was lying on its side. Were there shouting coming from it? At least the lightning bolt had not set it on fire. The pieces of its exposed back segmented and folded away, Claire crawled out.

Claire coughed, her face was covered in black soot. “Did you even try to dial it back?”

She sounded angry and he felt the guilt in his gut. He had meant to retreat the blood and fuel from the water deposit instead, why had he not? A lightning bolt fueled by water would not even have been half as powerful.

… His body grew weak and slow as the blood and its iron taste retreated from his mouth. The headache returned in full force, it throbbed in pain behind his eyes.

“I am sorry. I intended to be careful,” Milo said. “We could try again. I have willed the blood away, like I should have done in the first trial.”

If he drained a fuel cell, or spent a few seconds with his coffee brewer, the weakness and lack of confidence would wash away, and he would be powerful again. It was wrong of him to admit weakness, he should be strong at all times in case there was another attack.

Claire shoved him. “No. I should have thought about this. When you are in battle, there will be no dialing back. Action makes you put your back into it. No. I will have to try something different, we cannot rely that you can calm down.”

“Alright, I need to go. But one other thing, I noticed a heavy door behind your combat suit. What is behind it?” Milo asked.

“That my friend, is the passageway to unlimited power. The reason why we are able to venture into the depth of space,” Claire said. “Behind that radiation sealed door, you will find a reactor chamber and its fusion core.”

“A reactor chamber? I thought we had one already, down the corridor,” Milo said.

“It’s for emergencies, if something happened to the main one. It’s not hooked in, you see the panel on the side of the door? A few button presses, in the correct sequence, will start it up and bypass the main one’s output,” Claire said. “The sequence is labelled besides the panel.”

Milo nodded. “I get it. But how is the wiring done in there? I have never seen it.”

“Ha! I did it myself.” Claire put her hands on her hips. “Some things are just too important to delegate.”

“Great. But maybe some other time I could take a peek.” Milo left the workshop and started his way towards his room, to his coffee brewer.

But he had no time left.

“All hands on deck. To the bridge. We have company again,” Sam said through the Final Sight’s speakers.