Titans Blessing

"Captain! There you are!"

"Awww fuck what's wrong now?"

Startled, Stella the Chief Engineer paused and composed herself. She had been in charge of engineering for three weeks during which almost every system had suffered some form of catastrophe.

"Ok normally I give you a good news bad news thing right? And I'll tell you that I can fix it by tearing apart X, or fabbing a part, or whatever right? Well this is more of a Sophie's choice."

Captain Bob Sanders sighed. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine a owning a better, newer, probably safer ship.

"Ok. Let's hear it."

"Well you know how the artificial gravity and food systems have a high degree of commonality?"

"What, they do? No they don't."

"Yeah... Everyone knows that, it's based on the same basic principles - did you qualify as a Captain or..?"

"Never mind that, ok they have shared systems for some stupid reason. So?"

"Not stupid, physics, but that's not important well it is but not. The plasma decoupler in both systems are about to die and I only have one spare. We need to pick which system gets it. Based on the sensors I can get another hour out of each before either hits their planned obsolescence date."

"Oh. Planned... Ok. Easy. Turn off the gravity. Nice seeing you!" Captain Bob started to walk away when Stella snagged his shirt.

"We can't, we need the gravity."

"Then. Then why are you asking?"

"Protocol states that taking key systems offline requires a captains authorization."

"Ok. And why can't we turn the gravity off?"

"Seriously? Wait. Shit you are serious. Fuck me no wonder Sam was so eager to give me this promotion and retire. You're an idiot."

"That's Captain idiot. No don't call me that. Captain Bob. Bob. Not idiot. Gravity?"

"This is a Titan class ship, we have a huge water cistern above the top deck and a sewage treatment and water reclamation plant below the bottom deck. The only pump we have is at the bottom to refill the cistern. If we turn off gravity the first course change or bump or hiccup will send fresh water and sewage everywhere. Not to mention no more showers, drinking water, and so on.. Also we have two people in ICU with serious bleeds, and without gravity their wounds won't drain and they'll drown in their own... gross. Also our corridors are designed for gravity which is why there aren't any grab handles everywhere and why the ceiling is so... Dangerous."

Captain Bob looked up and flinched. The ceiling was a patch work of jagged pipes, wires, and strange but dangerous looking glowing tubes.

"Why don't we at least have pumps and valves for the sewage?"

"Normally we would but last week I tore them out to fix up the hydraulics in our docking clamps so that we could pick up the ore shipment in our hold. Also I used two of my step ladders and a ton of spooling wire. By the way sewage pumps make shitty hydraulic pumps so the next time we dock we'll likely be unable to undock."

"And what does a plasma...de... Thingy do?"

"It decouples - nope think idiot. It's like a bouncer at a nightclub that keeps the loser plasma out and the awesome plasma in by shoving the losers into a different area."

"Thanks I appreciate the imagery. Ok we lose food. What do we eat?"

"We have enough stores for a week of normal eating but after that we're into D rations." She shuddered. Bob did too.

"Fuck, one time I was stranded on dead ship at sea waiting for rescue. It was the first time food made me cry... I was begging for death by day two. We're two... weeks away from our destination too aren't we? Fuck me."

She nodded, "I'll get started on the work, you warn the crew."

Bob sighed and quickly penned a note on his pad and with a flick of his fingers sent it ship wide. He could hear the groans seconds later.

"Titan class... Is that why the ship is called the Titans Blessing!?"

Stella grunted in disgust before turning the corner, Bob could swear she was muttering captain idiot.

With Stella gone Bob suddenly remembered he was lost. He tried to listen for anyone nearby and when he didn't hear anything above the usual din of the ship he continued his slow exploration of his ship.

He came across a door marked life support and walked in. The room was dense with humidity, bright as hell, and a had heady green smell. Once his eyes adjusted he found row after row of plants in the middle of the room, along with fruit bearing plants on the sides. Additionally there was a water tank circulating water through the plants and it looked like the cold air return was piped right into the water. The result was a loud bubbling cacophony that funneled most of the bubbles towards a large fan that presumably pumped the air back around the ship. He peered into the murky water tank and could see small creatures swimming around, and others clung to the glass cleaning it. The tank itself was between the two rows of plants in the middle and the root systems from the plants were in the tank, from the right angle Bob imagined he was in a mangrove forest back home.

On a work bench he found a steaming cup of something orange, and a half eaten bowl of E Rations. He sniffed the hot orange drink but was disappointed when it didn't have a citrus smell to it whatsoever. Bob paused in front of the bowl for a second, he wasn't certain why anyone would eat E Rations outside of the Limulus species, but if there was a blue blood on board he'd know about it. Wouldn't he?

The noise in the room was getting to him and just as he was about to leave he found a map of the ship on the wall, the HVAC network overlayed the map which made sense given where the map was hung but at least could clearly see a way back to the mess hall. He took a mental snapshot of the map and left, eager to eat the last of the good food before going to bed.

An hour later he was staring at the door to his quarters. The ship isn't that large and the hallways aren't convoluted, Bob is just dead tired and unaccustomed to ship life.

The Captains quarters are very functional. A desk, a drink dispensor which seems to be stuck on coffee with a heavy foam, a bed, a water shower... Bob flopped into his bed and glanced at his wrist.

Almost every sentient in the known has adopted wrist tech and while Bob's was a little older and a little strange it worked perfectly on this ship. The wrist was just a display, the majority of the interface was through a galvanic interface directly on the back of the wrist, as well as some custom implants that Bob had installed ages ago. While he could call up a keyboard on his wrist and type he preferred to do that through the interface, thinking his words. He read the ship reports, read the news, watched a few vids, and then passed out.

Within minutes of falling asleep the wrist notified the ship that he was out and the room dimmed, the drink dispenser was put into standby mode, and the room dropped a few degrees for optimal sleeping temperatures.

Sleep was Bob's least favourite activity. Things happened while he slept, things he couldn't control or be aware of.