The Radio RoomHe lifted the cover off his to go dinner from the galley. It was very appetizing smelling, and he needed to know that it tasted as good as it smelled. He dug in with a provided disposable fork and he was not disappointed. Mark another one for Chef Bonnefoy.
Órale!While Pedro Fortunado missed his home San Rositan cuisine dearly, or really any Latin/Eastern Madurinite food, he couldn’t deny that this was well crafted gourmet food that would satisfy even some of the most finicky palates. He put the fork down, and concentrated on the radio unit once more.
It had been giving him some trouble, with odd interference and garbled transmissions when he tried to listen to the Lake Agloza weather channel, broadcast out of their home port of Hjamokjim in this area, and then Kärde, Falkasia, and Port Scaig, Greater Orcadia as they progressed further around the Lake.
He tuned the dial, sliding it ever so softly with practice, but all he heard now was white noise. He clicked the channels over with the other dial, but got nothing but the same. On the last channel he clicked to, a high pitched squealing hit his ears and he immediately whipped off the ear cans, which bounced off the top of the radio and hit the wall.
To confirm his suspicions, he turned to an open laptop, disengaging the screen saver and trying to pull up a browser window. He could see the red ‘X’ over the wi-fi icon. He went into the settings, playing with it, testing the connection, and finally resetting it, then finally rebooting the computer, all with no avail to bring up any connections.
He eyed his supper again, but found that he had no appetite at the moment. His mind was whirling. He clicked on the two way radio that was on the frequency for the ship. Luckily no squealing or white noise there.
“Ivor, I need you down here now!”
“Uh, Pedro, I kind of…”
“Now!”
“Yes, sir!”
In a few minutes, Ivor finally ducked his tall, gangly head into the radio room. It was a lot quicker than Pedro was expecting. As for the young Glisandian, he had never heard such an exasperated, urgent tone from Comms Officer Fortunado, and wasn’t ready to push his luck on keeping such a tone focused on himself.
“I am here, Officer Fortunado.”
“Bueno...Good. I’d like you to take over early in monitoring the comms. They aren’t working right now, but I’d like you to keep testing them until you get a voice on the other end. I have so far not been able to do so.”
“Nothing? That’s...odd.”
“Exactly. I need to go talk to Mr. Ryker in Security. Keep trying, be careful with having the ear cans on, I have gotten blasted by some feedback...squealing. It can be quite deafening and debilitating.”
Ivor eyed the headphones, the name he knew them by, and nodded.
“Alright…”
“That’s it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Yes, alright, Mr. Fortunado.”
The journey from the radio room to security was not that far on the lower deck. Pedro hurried, passing a few lost or inebriated, or both, passengers along the way. He ignored their queries. It seemed to be a habit lately that he visited Mr. Ryker, but this time it was much more than professional courtesy or curiosity. He knocked on the wall near the empty front security desk.
“Knock. Knock! Hello? Mr. Ryker, are you around?”
Markus was standing over his desk with his dinner in one hand and various charts and blueprints of the
Upplausn spread out before him when he heard a knock at his door. Following the knock was the familiar voice of Officer Fortunado. Putting down his meal, Marcus flipped some of the papers and swept the rest off his desk.
"Hello Officer Fortunado, come on in! I was about to head up to the comms center to let you know that I did my rounds of the security team earlier and Ms. Armansdottir agreed to help you out if you need her."
Pedro nodded, bypassing the front desk to stride up to Mr. Ryker’s desk in the back.
“Thank you, Mr. Ryker. I am appreciative of your help with that. I am certain now, more than ever, that we will need the assistance. That wasn’t exactly why I am dropping in to visit you at the moment, however.”
Looking up at Pedro, Marcus raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Oh? What do you need to talk about Pedro?”
“Mr. Ryker, all of our systems... our connections to land stations...are being blocked or jammed. It could be some weird weather interference, but I doubt it. I feel that someone doesn’t want us talking to home, or....anywhere. I have spent many years at my job and I am certain that something more than weather is at play here.”
Looking up at Pedro with a stern gaze, Marcus swiftly stepped from behind the desk and closed the door. Nodding, he walked back over and sat down.
“I do believe you are right, Pedro. I don’t have the full picture right now but with your seasoned expertise, if you think we are being jammed, then we are… Do you have any equipment in the comms center that we could use to figure out where the source of the jamming signal is coming from?”
Pedro looked at the door, then back at Marcus. He should have closed the door himself. That was stupid of him. He certainly didn’t want to be overheard by a passenger wandering into the Security Office who might repeat what they heard and subsequently cause a panic. At least Ryker had thought to do it and that’s why he had his position. Pedro brought himself back to focus, thinking on Ryker’s question.
“Hmmm...Si. Yes, well, not to a very precise degree, but I think I might be able to close in on the general area that the interference is coming from. This is a civilian ship, after all. We don’t have that kind of precise equipment, or the means to really stop serious intentional interference...jamming. But I believe I could work on some settings and maybe borrow the bridge radar to tell us where it originates from.”
Nodding, Marcus grinned,
“You know Pedro, if this were a freighter in the naval militia of my homeland, we would have already slung some ordnance down range in the direction of the jamming signal. Alas, we do not have that kind of equipment on this vessel…”
Joking aside, he grabbed the remnants of his meal and made small talk while he finished eating.
“I must say, Chef Bonnefoy has done an excellent job…”
Pedro waited, just a little impatiently, but he understood the importance of a good meal to keep one’s energy up. He longed for the dinner he’d left behind in the comms room. He might sneak a bite or two once they got back there.
“Chef Francis is definitely a quality chef. One could eat worse on a sea vessel, especially a naval one, which for that bit anyway, I am thankful we are not on one. I do miss the cuisine of my home, but having spent this much time in Glisandia already, I have gotten used to the fact that no one in this area knows how to prepare Latin cuisine.”
This was partly true. The closest San Rositan/Southeast Madurin style restaurant was a four hour drive NE to the capital, Rikijdrottin. The only one in the Grand Duchy. He’d made the drive just once, and almost immediately regretted it. While the owner was a native San Rositan, he obviously tailored the menu to cater to Glisandian customers, not San Rositans, Brazilians, or other Southeastern Madurinite tastes. It could barely be called authentic, and had been a big disappointment. So, the owner likely knew how to prepare authentic San Rositan food, at least at one time, but was unwilling to scare off the local business with Latin fire.
Finishing his meal, Markus left his tray on his desk and got up to follow Pedro to the comms center.
“Is there anything else we need to discuss about the comms center or the current situation, Pedro?”
“Uh, no, Mr. Ryker. I do not think so...er, well...Forgive my confusion, but you don’t seem very concerned or surprised about this situation. We might not be able to call for help. That seems rather serious to me.”
Looking up with a rather stern grin, Markus couldn’t help but chuckle as they walked along. Lowering his voice so that no passengers could overhear, he leaned close to Pedro.
“My job is to remain cool under pressure and ensure the safety of the passengers. If we are indeed having our communications jammed, then it is my duty to remedy the situation as best as I can. However, I seem to be working with one of the best comms officers this side of the Prime Meridian. We will figure this out come hell or high water…”
Pedro nodded to some satisfaction, appreciating the compliment but not sure if he should acknowledge it. As they neared the comms room and the corridor was empty he finally spoke, also in a fairly low tone.
“Yes, that makes more sense. However, figuring it out might not be enough to stop it, Senor. We are not a warship in the end. We will be at the mercy of the Yel-...whoever it is. Whether we are fully aware of who and what is doing this to us, or not.”
“We may not be a warship but we are a Glisandian passenger vessel with a number of foreigner high profile individuals… From a political point of view, it would be a sore misjudgement for foreign powers to intercept or intervene with this cruise… Wait… What makes you say the communication issues are coming from the Yellow Star Republic?”
Looking over at Pedro, Markus eyed him cautiously. Sure he was a fellow officer of the cruise, but was he privy to the information Captain Stan had sent Markus’ way earlier?
“Um...well, I guess just plain physics and location, Señor. It’s the most logical place as we are right off their coast. Also, these two countries, Glisandia and YSR have had many differences, si? It just seems the most logical choice. Not to say that it couldn’t be another bad actor in the mix, but I think the odds are against that...I suppose, unless someone is trying to frame the Yellowsians and cause an incident. Oh, it makes my head spin, Señor. This politics. It is not my area of expertise, you see?”
“You and I both, Pedro… Prior to serving with Captain Stan and Sunrise Tours, I did maritime private security work… It was so simple back then… The company heads would inform you of who the hostile factions were and what force you were authorized to use… But now here we are Pedro…”
Shaking his head with amusement, Markus patted Pedro on the back.
“Though, you did a very good job breaking down your analyzation of the situation… It is very likely that it is the Yellow Star Republic interfering with the comms but I am not quite so quick as to rule out a hostile third party trying to frame a well known political difference…”
“Yes, this is possible. Do you want me to tell the Captain, or do you want to?”
“If you want to, please let Captain Stan know… Though… On a more discreet note… If, and this is a major if, this vessel is boarded… Do you have any thoughts of fortifiable positions around the vessel? It never hurts to be prepared for all unlikely situations…”
“Oh, uh...I don’t really know, Señor Ryker. I suppose the lower decks are more fortifiable because they are less open. I know that we could barricade the radio room if needed, and if we got enough advanced warning.”
Pedro was slightly worried at that. It was Ryker’s job to know these things, even though Pedro was former San Rositan naval personnel, Ryker was security and had been in that field for some time. Also, Ryker had done specific maritime security work prior to Sunrise Tours, as he had mentioned. Surely he had strategies based on those experiences?
“I’ve already drafted a plan for barricading the lower decks if need be… What materials do you think you and the other radio and communications operators would need to keep the equipment operational…?
“For now, it is just me and my assistant, Ivor, as comms personnel...Plus the person you assigned to us from your crew.” His mind drew a blank on who Ryker had mentioned for that capacity.
“Really, I don’t know that we need much in the way of materials. There is a built in locking bar that falls down into place on the main Communications room door. That should be enough, although there is the issue that whoever puts the bar down and sets the lock is also locked into the room. I think that I will make sure that we have some water and non-perishable food items in there, should it come down to a siege. Oh, but also...not all of our equipment is in that room, although the most vital backup radios and servers are. Some equipment is in another room, and some is on the bridge, of course. The bridge communications equipment is the most vulnerable.”
Nodding, Markus listened as Pedro rattled off the necessary supplies. Unclipping his radio, he keyed the mic.
“Alda, when you head up to Officer Fortunado’s domain, please bring non-perishables and water too. Ryker out.”
“I hope that takes care of your worries, Pedro.”
“Well, some of my worries, si. That we have to deal with this situation at
all and someone can actively target us and think that they can get away with it...Well, that does not sit right with me, Sir.”
“Same… Though in my homeland, there is a saying… ‘Prepare for the worst of times… Live through the best of times…’ It pretty much means we all should be prepared for the absolute worst possible outcome but if it doesn’t happen… Well, we’re doing alright.”
“Yes, this is sound logic, Señor Ryker.”
They had arrived at the Communications Room. Pedro punched in a code into the keypad next to the door. They heard a high pitched beep and he shoved on the door. Everything was pretty much as he left it. The lad hopefully had been working the dials.
“Ivor, thank you for covering. I need to speak with Mr. Ryker in private here, so you can go take a break now. Report back for your regular shift.”
“Understood, Mr. Fortunado.” And with that, the lad was quickly gathering up his items from the desk and off and out the door before the two crew officers could barely register it.
“Here we are, Se…
Mister Ryker.” He half mumbled to himself. “I need to improve on my English.”
He tapped and pointed to the other side of the door as they went through. When one watched the energy it took Pedro to open the door, it was evident only then that one realized it was not like the other doors on that deck. There was indeed a metal plate over the inner side that was not evident from the outer, nice wooden facade. There was a locking mechanism with ports for the dual bars to slide into at opposing corners, all controlled by a large lever in the middle that would need to be worked with both hands. It was very much like what one would find on a naval vessel.
“This is our security. This system is as ancient as my abuelo, but some things never need improvement, si?”
Nodding with approval, Markus cracked a grin.
“Nothing quite like a few inches of metal to make you feel nice and secure. Good to see that you and your assistant have this security measure in place.”
Pedro smiled and shrugged.
“I couldn’t claim credit. The Glisandians built this into the design. Perhaps it has to do with that angry history they have with their neighbors and the general Lake Agloza climate?”
Looking towards Pedro’s desk, Markus spotted the communication officer’s meal cooling off.
“Please don’t feel obligated to wait for us to finish this conversation Pedro. Eat you meal before it gets cold. It’s quite good!”
Sitting down, Markus looked around a bit before piping up again.
“Say… How many people do you think could comfortably fit in here if need be?”
Pedro shook his head.
“I guess I am too agitated to eat right now. It can wait until after I talk to the Captain. Um, hmm...‘Comfortably’?... I suppose maybe seven or eight people. That’s with the equipment still in here. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would.”
Taking out a small notebook from his pocket, Markus jotted down a note before slipping it back where it belonged.
“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss besides Ms. Armansdottir assisting you and Ivor and the current security situation?”
“Yes...That she do her best to resist Ivor’s advances. But seriously, no. Thank you, Mr. Ryker. I think that will be all. I should speak with the Captain now. Unless you wanted to do that together?”
Cracking a wry smile, Markus chuckled...
“She might end up becoming your only assistant if he tries anything… Though regarding discussing this with the Captain, I am not against the idea of both of us speaking with him.”
They headed off to find the Captain, hoping he would be done with his special table hosted dinner and available to chat.