Stumbling at the first furlong
12 Mar 2022Creamy Goodness III
This station was a whimsical place, the main drag was more like a Shakespearean theme park than a concourse. It wasn’t a patch on Irrational Exuberance, but Creamy enjoyed the oddities and unique aesthetics of the public buildings. For Creamy, that was one of the problems with deep space exploration, there were many wonders he hadn’t discovered in the bubble, and the bubble had people to enjoy his discoveries with.To find the Imperial Exploders Society outpost here in HIP seventy-four ninety, Creamy had to leave the tourist area and look at more pedestrian signs and nameplates until he found a proud brass plaque embossed with the IES symbol on a column beside a double door in a long, squat building. Inside, the pleasant young lady behind the desk wasn’t being very helpful. Apparently, although he was family, the IES couldn’t give details of its member’s journeys to non-members without written requests delivered through a recognised solicitor’s office. He was wondering where the chap that he had talked with on the coms was. Perhaps that man could help clear this up.
“You’re a Goodness if ever I’ve seen one” Echoed a bombastic voice from down the hall beyond the desk.
A silvery moustached man wearing a monocle marched up to Creamy and took his hand, giving it a vigorous shake as he introduced himself.
“Lord Wigbert Fenston-Ludlow, a contemporary of Creamy, your.. . Grandfarther?” he guessed, still gripping Creamys’ hand.
“Err yes. I’m here..”
“Well you must be Twos’ boy. I say, the likeness is uncanny. You’re a spit of ya grandad by Jove!”
Lord Wigbert let go of Creamys’ hand and put his fists on his hips as he recalled his old friend.
“Pity he lost the plot but it happens to so many of us. Still, at least he passed before drooling into his soup and seeing little purple men in the cupboards ay?”
Shaking his head, the old man looked at Creamy again.
“I am sorry about’cha dad; sad loss to us all I must say. A Guardian expert with few equals”
“No actually, Creamy the Second, or Two was my uncle. I’m Bartholamews’ son, Creamy Goodness the Third. Don’t think my uncle had a family. Well, at least not as far as I know”
It took the old chap a sort while to fathom out the information Creamy and just given him, but slow a wide smile formed under his bushy tash.
“HA! You took the name Creamy? Oh that’s a wheeze; I bet that soaked old Bartys’ pipe. How that starched shirt ever landed ya mum is beyond me. Ooh she was a real laser beam as a debutant”
Realising it was inappropriate to talk of the boys’ mother in such a way, Wigbert cleared hit throat and changed the subject.
“Take it you're here to join up ay? You got a sponsor? Never mind, I’ll sponsor you. Can’t leave the next generation of Goodness’s out in the cold when he’s eager to go a-wondering can we ay?”
Putting his arm around Creamy shoulders, Lord Fenston-Ludlow pushed Creamy back out the double doors, calling to the woman on the desk as they walked away.
“Get the application started if you would be so kind Pamela, I’ll send the details through once I’ve interviewed the boy” Turning his attention back to Creamy “Lets’ go look at’cha ship shall we? Take it you brought your long range boat with you?”
Saying anything to Lord Fenston-Ludlow was an impossibility. The man didn’t stop talking, and every subject reminded him of another nugget of wisdom to pass on, or an anecdote to share. If the man could get Creamy into the IES allowing him to learn about his uncles’ last journey, then Creamy was glad to listen.
Outside the lifts to the docks, Wigbert stopped them at a data terminal and waited for Creamy to call up his ships' details.
“I say, while ya got’cha PF licence out, lets’ have a look at’cha credentials what?” After Wigbert had pressed the licence against his slate, Creamys’ ship details coming up on the screen distracted the old explorer.
“An Asp ay? I must say I was expecting an Orca; both your grandad and uncle had one as their boat. Still, the Asp is a good first ship for the job. Lets’ have a look t the build shall we?”
As his lordship scrolled through the details, Creamy was treated to a running cometary of disappointment.
“Assistance Five! What sort of name is that boy?.. .. Hybrid power plant! Dear, dear me, no; that won’t do. .. It doesn’t even have a repair unit installed” he glanced at Creamy with incredulity all over his old face. “I’d say this was a support vessel designed to operate out of a carrier, my boy. I wanted to inspect your exploration vessel”
“It is a support ship, Lord Fenston-Ludlow. After a calamity of misfortunes, I was lucky enough to be lent this ship to change my less than equitable situation” informed Creamy.
“Lent! You mean it’s not yours?” Exclaimed Wigbert unfamiliar with the concept of not owning a ship. “That, that means anything you log will be credited to the person that lent you this nasty bucket. What’s the point of that?”
Shaking his head, Wigburt was not rude enough to probe the depth of Creamys’ troubles. The chap had said he was sorting it out as any man worth his salt should, and that was good enough for him.
“Well, it’ll do the job as long as you’re not planning on going that far. Lets’ have a look at’cha Pilots' federation rating shall we?” said Wigbert looking forward to getting back on familiar ground. The revelations of the ship were a little much for the old chap to take in his stride.
As Wigbert was looking into the PF record, Creamy was treated to similar commentary like the one earned by his loaned ship.
“Ha! Elite Exploration I see. Didn’t expect any less for Creamys’ Grandson. Good man, good man. ... Oh I say, A-Star liner pilot rating from Saud Kruger no less. Well done boy, well done indeed. Now, lets’ have a look at’cha discoveries, shall we?”
Creamy watched the old lords’ cherry cheek drop as he looked at the very short list of discoveries. Only a couple of system on the way to the Guardian sites had been virgin territory to human eyes. The only reason he found those was because he was in the early rush to earn an FSD booster and got lost on the way out.
“You didn’t even map the damn bodies, just honked and jumped, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation “You got your bloody rank by ferrying passengers” looking up from his slate, Wigbert addressed Creamy directly with regrettable harshness.
“You’re a damn fraud and your namesakes would be ashamed of you!”
To outside ears, it didn’t sound like much of a depreciation, but coming from one Imperial lord to another, it was a harsh accusation and cutting insult to Creamy.
“How dare you sir” braced Creamy, squaring his impressive shoulders, taking a step closer to the old lord to impress how much taller Creamy was. “I came here shortly after farther informed me my uncle is most likely dead. I hoped the Imperial Exploders Society would be glad to inform a close relative of an esteemed members’ last expedition, but instead I was greeted with bureaucracy and cold indifference”
Taking another step forward made Lord Fenston-Ludlow step back.
“I simply wanted to inquire as to the prospect of finding my uncle, everything else was purely assumption on your part. Whether or not I live up to your pointless expectations is neither here nor there to me. Now, is this Imperial society going to help me, *or must I bid you and your ludicrous organisations a portly good day sir!”
For the second time in his life, utterly gobsmacked was the perfect description for how Wigbert felt. He had a good mind to thrash some manners in to this impertinent whelp, but in all fairness, he had just called the boy a liar and claimed his family would disapprove of him after an incorrect assumption, provoking the young man's outburst.
Bringing himself to attention, Lord Wigbert Fenston-Ludlow bowed to Lord Creamy goodness the Third.
“You have my unreserved apologies sir. When one reaches my age, one tends to assume he knows best. I should have talked with you, instead of at you my boy. That way I could have avoided this unseemly misunderstanding”
Touching Lord Fenston-Ludlows’ shoulder, Creamy accepted the apology.
“Water under the bridge than man, think nothing of it. Do you see a way of circumventing the red tape and allowing me accesses to uncle Creamys’ last logs? Aske Creamy pressing his advantage.
“Tell you what lad, I’ll go further than that. You see, the last logs we have from your uncle are not connected to his ultimate journey. If you are set on determining his fate, you’re going to have to go looking for him”
On the walk back to the IES building, Lord Wigbert Fenston-Ludlow made a deal with Creamy. If he allowed the IES to refit the Asp for such a journey, Wigbert would give Creamy membership, and have the societies’ record-keepers fathom out the most likely locations for Creamy to search for his uncle. It wasn’t charity, Wiggy, as he asked Creamy to call him, would expect all the data Creamy accumulated to be passed on to the society for investigation and dissemination.
Creamy agreed, and in the meantime, Wiggy trained Creamy in the basics of long range exploration. Within a few short days, the Assistance 5 was refitted, and Creamy had completed a crash course in exploring the unknown. Once the galley was loaded, Creamy would be ready for his first solo voyage.
*As far as Imperial etiquette was concerned, Creamy had just said “If you are too snobby to help, fuck you and your stupid club for idiot’s fatso”