Zach's Chance

The lights went out. As they came back on again, Zach Standsfield sighed. That was the third time this shift. Resigned to the fact that he would not be reading any more of the latest thriller published on Alpha Centaurii anytime soon, he pushed off the covers and padded through the dim, green glow of the emergency lights, making his floaty way to the corridor hatch.

The gravity was off too; great. There went Zach’s idea of a workout to distract himself before bed, since reading in that puke-green glow would make Zach want to puke. A game with his buds from D deck was out too, for the same reason.

Zach didn’t have a job on this tub out in the middle of nowhere; he was old enough, but the colony ship’s needs were already adequately being met by the current staff. Zach was waiting for a transfer, but till that came through, he was stuck looking for things to occupy his copious scads of time.

Just then, he heard his name called over the comms. “Zachry Standsfield, please report to Ops.”

Turning in the air, he pushed himself along the corridor to the operations area.

“Ah, Stansfield,” the captain greeted him somberly, “it seems I have a job for you after all.”

“Sir?”

“Surely you noticed our current lack of power,” Captain Lightfleet went on.

Zach nodded.

“Unfortunately, that is but one result of an explosion in the main engine room,” he said. Now, the colony, instead of being overcrowded, has lost more than a third of its population. I’m afraid I’ll have to deny your transfer.”

At the news, Zach could not help but wonder who had perished, but instead of asking, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and took the data sheet from Captain Lightfleet.

“Your first task is to get the power back online ASAP. Soon, some of the lower decks will lose life support, and there are families down there who don’t need to lose any more members.”

“I understand, sir,” Zach said on a nod as he waded back through the security hatch toward the main engine room.

As he arrived, Zach glanced as best as he could at his briefing pad. What he read made him choke on his own saliva. Chief Engineer? I can’t be Chief Engineer; I’m just barely out of school.

As fast as the antigravity would allow, Zach made his way to the nearest terminal, calling up the roster of engineers.

As far as Zach could tell, the engineers who weren’t killed in the explosion were all off shift at the time it happened, and they were all new crew, at that. Who puts all their veterans on one shift and all the greenhorns on the other? Even I know that’s stupid, and I’m just a kid.

Well, at least Zach was familiar with the ship from his apprenticeship, unlike his new subordinates. And speaking of those members of the crew of whom he was now in charge, he was going to need more. Consulting his brief, he saw that Captain Lightfleet had thought of that. He was authorized to appoint other members of the crew to the engineering staff, so far as they were qualified and did not already have essential duties on board.

That was the first item on the agenda, then: getting his crew to engineering. He called a few of the greenhorns to report, and then made some calls to others he knew who, like him, had been awaiting transfers. By the time the greenhorns shuffled in, he had called enough for the present shift; he’d have to make do with that for the time being though; there was work to be done.

He – very briefly – briefed his crew on the explosion, who he was, and their current task. One person, he held back.

“Rosson,” he said, “something about this is fishy.” Zach explained about the shifts. “See what you can find in the logs; I’m sure the captain has got us override codes by now, and I’ll get you access as soon as I can.”

The hours went by, and the lights and gravity were restored. Somehow, Zach found someone to relieve him by the middle of the next shift, but Rosson stayed on.

“I think I’m on to something, but I want to do a bit more corroboration before I present my findings,” he said.

Thinking nothing of it since he was more exhausted than he’d ever been, Zach returned to his quarters and the bunk he’d left more than half a day earlier.

He was awakened by a ship-wide announcement.

All hands, there will be a memorial service at 2100 hours in the mess hall for those lost in yesterday’s tragedy. That is all. Lightfleet out.

With a look at his chrono, Zach found he had only thirty minutes to find his dress uniform and groom himself before the service. He rushed, and barely made it on time. It certainly would not do to miss his first official function as chief engineer.

The captain opened the service with a solemn speech about the tragedy of losing so many lives at once, and then it was time for the reading. Commander Powell had a deep and sonorous voice, perfect for such a solemn occasion.

“Before you are released back to your duties,” Captain Lightfleet said, “I would like to acknowledge the efforts of our new chief engineer and his crew, and especially the tireless research by Ensign Rosson, who is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, which resulted in the discovery that our ship had been the victim of sabotage.”

The captain’s voice was drowned out by outraged cries from the assembled crew, but it seemed he was finished, because the next word Zach heard clearly was “Dismissed!”

He later learned that the former chief engineer had been an agent of a rival colony ship who had infiltrated the crew in order to discredit Captain Lightfleet as a reliable colony captain. Both Zach and Ensign Rosson were given awards for their efforts on the day of the explosion, and Zach went on to be the longest-serving chief engineer the Lightfleet Lightfoot had ever had.