"Regrettably, Mister Chairman, it seems evident that there is little we can
do. Indeed, this is a most tragic turn of events." 

Margaret Kim folded her hands together, the first offhanded movement she
had made since taking her seat before the committee, but her gaze remained
firmly locked on the Chairman. It seemed inhuman that she could wield the
necessary resolve to etch a total lack of expression into the soft features
of her Korean countenance, yet the exercise was wholly necessary. The
Chairman knew it. After all, he had a responsibility to maintain his
composure before the public, just as she had to maintain her bearing for
the sake of the Service. Control was of the utmost importance in times like
this, with twenty billion viewers looking on and analyzing even the
slightest twitch in their expressions. 

"Thank you, Admiral Kim," the Chairman concluded the briefing lecture
segment, much to the naval flag officers chagrin. Now, the far more
aggressive and proportionally less accountable honorables of the House
Select Committee on the New Technologies for Space Warfare and Oversight
would have their chance to engage in whatever political posturing they
could get away with in light of this tragedy. Sincerely, the Chairman
prayed that Ms. Kim would be able to rise above the verbal savagery she was
about to endure. "The Committee will now entertain discussion and questions
for the next hour and a half. Both the ranking member and I have agreed to
divide the time in half--forty-five minutes for each side.  Mr. Sanhurst?
Mr. Doubleday? Mrs. Darreau-Stevenson?  Each of you will control fifteen
minutes.  That time may be divulged in any manner you see fit according to
the rule. Mrs. Arakawa? Mr. Thompson? Mr. Guttierez? The rule applies to
the majority delegation as well. The Chairman and the Ranking Member have
agreed to abstain from discussion. The rule, may I remind you, was approved
by unanimous consent from both delegations to the Committee after issuance
from the Rules Committee.  The Chair, therefore, will not entertain
objections to the rule or subsequent approved rules of the Committee.
Likewise, the Chair will entertain no motion without the express approval
of either the Ranking Member or the Chairman. With that said, the Chair
turns the floor over to Mrs. Darreau-Stevenson from the minority delegation." 

"Thank you, Mr. Chairman. I will delegate my time in a moment, but I wish
to proceed with opening remarks.  I allocate to myself as much time as I
may consume." Margaret Kim watched with muffled contempt as the first of
her accusers took the bait. "I thank you, Admiral Kim, for appearing before
us today to provide your testimony on this rather unfortunate accident. Let
me begin by stating that under your leadership, USSPACDEVEXCOM has made
some monumental achievements, from working and regulating private commerce
in near-Earthspace to improving the infrastructure of the Deimos
carbon-mining project." 

But...

"It seems to me, however, that whereas we might have thought about
continuing those improvement projects for our citizens leaving in space and
abroad, funding such a highly experimental project as STARLIGHT
demonstrates that maybe this Congress hasnt focused on its more immediate
priorities. Instances of similarly painful and tragic circumstances have
occurred several times in our nations space exploration history; and each
time we learned that we may have crossed a line we were not ready to cross.
We trod across unsure ground unprepared; and hopefully after realizing the
consequences of our demand for aggressive progress, we must make the most
of the lesson and proceed with greater caution. That means, in my opinion,
turning our attention back to the orbital, lunar and Martian states.
Ensuring that we have mastered all there is to master in those arena.  Only
then should we proceed to expand our horizons." 

Her argument hand a perverse sense of logic to it, but the lack of
historical insight whatsoever did not fail to perturb the Admiral. The
tragic examples the Congresswoman had conveniently left out of her
carefully worded diatribe against exploration and radical experimentation
had tossed Americans more often than not into deep introspection. That
introspection, on the other hand, had actually deterred progress rather
than advance it. The Challenger Incident in 1986, the fuel leak on Intrepid
in 1999, the Russian space station Mirs orbital degradation in 2015--that
had claimed three American lives, the fire that erupted in Space Station
Freedoms oxygen tanks in 2034. Those were the most distant, yet
surprisingly most remembered, accidents that had stalled--and nearly
killed--the American drive into space. In 2050, the first truly civilian
habitat on the moon suffered severe atmospheric contamination, killing all
fifty-eight of Americas latest wave of pioneers. The event finally killed
the National Air and Space Administration, and left the United States in a
lull for nearly twenty-five years. Then came the Chinese orbital colony.
The new Chinese threat to US space supremacy led to the scrambling assembly
of the American Space Development and Exploration Command. Now, after two
centuries of playing catch-up, the United States was once again on the
verge of tossing all her new prestige, power, and potential out of the
airlock because of fear. 

The Congresswoman completed her remarks and began parceling off her
remaining ten minutes. Not surprising, the first speaker was a
representative of one of the American space colonies. Congressman Shelton
pulled the microphone towards him and locked his eyes on the Admirals. 

"I thank the Gentlewoman from Ohio for yielding to me," his voice had that
strange, space-borne accent that Kim had grown accustomed to over the
years; the rich, almost nasal quality that developed on L-5s State of New
Chatelaine-Brunswick. Mr. Shelton was from 503rd Congressional District,
located within the industrial heart-colony of the orbital state. "Like most
of my colleagues on this committee, Admiral Kim, I am a space-borne;
representing the interests of the people most directly effected by your
policies. When Development and Exploration decided to upgrade the CoDyne
microwave transmitters, the new software and most of the new hardware was
produced within my district. Likewise, New Chatelaine-Brunswick leads the
nation in the production of interplanetary ships; our yards have churned
out both warships from the Naval Space Force as well as public-charter and
private merchant vessels. Obviously, it concerned my constituents as well
as myself when Development and Exploration passed Interplanetary Shipyards
bid for involvement in Project STARLIGHT; however, that is neither here nor
there." 

Laying it a little thick today, Kim patiently endured the political
posturing by reminiscing about her brief tour as the Accounting Office of
Space Exploration and Development Interests in Shipyards liaison officer to
New Chatelaine-Brunswick. Interplanetary Yards had an inventive, almost
humorous method of book-keeping, and the corporation almost made a killing
with a research subsidization Congress had approved--at Mr. Sheltons
impassioned request--against USSPACDEVEXCOMs recommendations. 

Almost, she reminded herself as a wry smile formed on her lips. Even
disregarding IYs notorious reputation for corruption, Development and
Exploration simply could not cart off Project STARLIGHT to any civilian
contractor; the technology was a closely guarded secret. Until now, of
course. 

"While we may have established that STARLIGHT is now beyond our control,
and that the young brave soul we condemned with it is now forever lost to
us, we still must look and find out whether it was preventable. Possibly, a
closer relationship with the private sector would have..." 

II. 

Two years before the all the mind-numbing brouhaha that would surround
Project STARLIGHT, Lieutenant Commander James Westphal Reid, USNSF,
innocently sat cross-legged in the base hospital waiting room. Most of the
time, his hands were tightly wound up into fists, which he occasionally
relaxed to engage in time-honored pastime of thumb-twiddling. At the
moment, Reid had permitted his fists to open enough as to prevent
bruising--it sure felt as if he would bruise--as he glanced nervously at
the out-patient desk receptionist. A single man, he often appreciated the
presence of an attractive lady--the receptionist sitting behind the desk
certainly fit that category. Tall, lanky and of East Indian background, her
soft, ebony hair fell gracefully upon her bare shoulders. However, Reids
anxiety seemed to peak even more as he tried to distract himself--if that
receptionist could not do it, he dare not imagine what could. 

"Well, well. How goes it, mboy?" Reid nearly jumped out of his chair as
his head jerkily followed the voice to its owner. What remained of his
composed, collective thought processes quickly interpreted the new visual
information--particularly the heavily braided shoulder boards--and
suggested a proper response in kind. However, the anxious, half-frightened
little boy that once had a deathly fear of water in any form retained
strict control over Reids mortal husk. His reaction was predictable. 

"Mis...mister...er...uh...Commander....oh shit," he tripped over his words
until it finally came out--a bit more forcibly than he would have liked.
"ADMIRAL CHAMBERS, SIR!!" 

His body snapped up to attention, stiff as starched cardboard, and he
nearly tore the Admirals head off as his vicious salute cut through the
air. It barely paused before striking him in the forehead, and only the
hand-to-hand combat training he had received once or twice back at the
Academy prevented him from tumbling backwards onto the magazine table. Vice
Admiral William Chambers, United States Navy, wisely backed off, raising
his hands in a non-threatening gesture. As Reid finally gained his
composure, he suddenly felt very, very exposed; as if he were standing
naked in front of a large crowd. 

"At ease, son. Please." His hands rested on the younger mans shoulders.
His eyes shifted momentarily from the lieutenant commander to the
receptionist; a lecherous glint flickered across his blue irises.
"Uh...geez, son. They must have had you on stims for days on end!" 

Reid nodded. Actually, they had deprived him of sleep for damn near two
weeks. It was not his idea, but PsyCols. After all, they did have to see
whether or not he would hold up for...well, whatever it was they wanted him
to do. At least the next test seemed a little less taxing on his
constitution--he would enter a drug-induced hypersleep for a week. Every
officer and rating in the United States Naval Space Force had to do a week
of hypersleep right after leaving Annapolis or the Great Lakes. Of course,
hypersleep was deathly cold--cryogenics and all. Drug-naps...he knew
Special Forces underwent that kind of training, but by reputation and the
rumor-mill only. Nobody knew much about those people beyond the fact they
existed. 

"Well, Sir," Reid nearly surprised himself as his voice shed itself of the
quavering uncertainty that crept in his veins. "Its been rough, but Im
holding up. Im not sure about Rach--I mean Commander Wilkes, Sir." 

"Rachels doing quite well," the Admiral almost mumbled. "Why dont you
take a walk with me, son? Well talk about these tests of yours" 


*  *  *

+-----------------+-<The Badass Reverend of Funk Prez>---+
|    Presley H.   | Political Science / Computer Science |
|    Cannady II   | and Electrical Engineering Undergrad |
|<revprez@mit.edu>| at the Mass. Institute of Technology |
+-----------------+-<Anime Manga Development Group>------+
+     Author of Liars and Dreamers, a Robotech fanfic    +
+-------<http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/1731/index.html>-+
| MIDN 3/c, MIT-Harvard-Tufts NROTC Battalion            |
|_|"The art of war is of vital importance to the state"|_|