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Racehl Geisenfred sat nervously silent, amongst the milling reporters in the 16 Canford Street press room. The President-Elect, suffering from multiple leaks in his administration, as well as four key legislative and executive indictments and three convictions for corruption and moral decadence. His administration was most likely to be punsihed severely unless he could pull something major out of his hat. But this time around, she doubted it wasn't going to happen, unless he was replaced at the nominating convention, along with half the party.
She stood as he entered the room, looking about thre or four decades older than when he had been elected, at a relatively young 46. She noticed that several military were present, in the black dress of the Orbital Command. A press lackey announced his entry, and all the reporters sat down as he motioned them. He looked up at all of them, slightly weary and sighed. He began.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to be able to bring you momentous news today. In just a few short days, we will be ready to launch the exploration fleet that we have been building for the last three years. I have made this a personal project of mine, to see that the noble spirit of the explorers of days past, Columbus, Cartier, Vespucci and Admundsen, be given a new incarnation on our next frontier.
"This should be recognized for the incredible opportunity it is for our nation, to sail among the sifting tides of space, and visit new worlds, to go and see where no man has gone before. To stand upon the crest of history and say 'It was us, the brave members of this honourable Alliance!' who waded out into the unknown, to wrestle it to the ground and proclaim victory over it. So now, I give you the four captains of our expedition. This is Captain Oliver Macarther of the Christopher Columbus," he stood stoically, "Captain Fedoy Kistanilli of the Cartier, Captain Amy Killian of the Amerigo Vespucci and finally, Capitan Elia Pantaliokos of the Roald Admunsen.
"Let our prayers be with these people as they chart out new frontiers for us. God speed captains!" The reporters all applauded, some politely,most emphatically. Even if you didn't agree this was what the government should be spending money on, they had balls. The applause continued for a while, and then it died down as the Press lackey began fielding questions. This was going to be interesting. |
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Lieutenant Commander Tactical/1st Oscar Macdague fixed his black dress uniform in mirror. His smooth black hair rested undisturbed across his skull, and his fierce jaw was highlighted by his eyes. They were by far his most interesting characteristic. They were a deep brown, almost black. They had a quality which most people could not place, as they seriously disturbed them. They had hawklike qualities, and seemed to pierce any screen set up by the person under their gaze. He served as the Chief Tactical Officer, and Second Officer onboard the exploration ship Amerigo Vespucci.
His campaign medals glistened above his heart, dating back from his service in the air-force as a pilot before an injury forced him out. His experience as a pilot served him well as he sought a new profession in the service. An old friend of his introduced him to then Commander Tactical/1st Amy Killian, who introduced him to the area of orbital combat tactics. He excelled. He was very adept and thinking in three dimensions, and his multitasking mind was able to process at lightning speed, and soon advanced to Chief Tactical Officer of the frigate Saint Patrick. Then he had received the offer from Killian to join her aboard the Vespucci.
It was an incredibly gut wrenching decision to make. He and his wife, Gwen, had been trying to have a child for a long time. This assignment was expected to last up to three years, and he would most likely be exposed to some serious unknown dangers. The exploration ships were some of the most advanced ships the Allied States could produced. Armed with experimental charged particle cannons, gatmag defence guns, a focused-energy fusion cannon, and high energy plasma missiles. The exploration ships also possessed some pretty amazing faster-than-light drives which somehow utilized higher-order dimensions, which had come from some intense research into gravity.
Despite his fairly impressive intelligence, he just couldn't get this stuff wrapped around his head. He also knew that this technology was unlikely to be deployed into the regular orbital navy for decades. It cost more than double the OCs original budget to build the first one, but the Congress of Alliance couldn't hold people back. The hunger that drove people across the seas, through distant jungles in search of God, glory, greed and whatever else came across their minds was back. some sociologists were also linking this to a revial in religion sweeping across the Alliance.
Macdague guessed he believed in a higher power. He hadn't really thought about it. Even during his ultra-painful recovery time in the airforce hospital in Limassol, he didn't seek religion. He wasn't quite sure why, he just never needed it. But now, as he was ready to sail off into the unknown, in charge of some of the most devastating weapons known to the Alliance, God was surprisingly around every corner. His wife was fiercely Irish, and Catholic more for patriotic reasons than religious, but they were both starting to ask questions. There was a large chance they would never see each other again.
She walked into his room, blue eyes almost as piercing as his own, looked into his own. It was often he even remotely considered tears, but he just let the flow as he hugged her closely. Her warm body was something he had a feeling he would never feel again. Something deep down in his soul told him this was the last time he would see his country, his home. "It's time to go," she said. They walked hand in hand out of their bedroom, to the airmen waiting to take him to the orbplane facilities. |
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Oscar Macdague stood on the command deck of the Vespucci. He was currently in command, with Killian making some last minute meetings and arrangements with Admiral 3rd/Command Kylan. The plans were complete, and the ships were ready to leave. Billions of people in the Alliance were watching the news programs which were showing footage from the reporters on the two atmosplanes recording the launch. On hand for the launch was just about everyone key to the Alliance, from President-Elect Kingsley, to General-of-the-Armed-Forces Myers. Ensign 1st/Engineer Julian Dukakos spoke, "Sir, Captain Killian's shuttle is requesting to board."
"Permission granted," he replied. Within just a few minutes, the shuttle was on board and the Captain was on her way to the bridge. "Captain on deck!" shouted the EASOP corporal on duty. She walked out of the gravlift, looking serenely over her command. He walked over to her and greeted her. "Captain, welcome back."
"Thank you, commander. Let the record show that the captain took command at 1706 ship time, and that Commander Macdague returned to his post."
"Aye sir."
"As you were." The entire bridge crew relaxed and went back about their work. "Operations, raise Apollo." The chorus of aye sirs gave way to Admiral Kylan's face on the liquid plasma display screen. "Admiral, the Vespucci is ready to get under way. All hands report green sir."
The admiral's old, wrinkled face, normally the vision of toughness built only through experience in years of combat and breaking through the barriers of the unknown broke into a smile. "It's been a long time coming Captain. You deserve it."
"Thank you, sir"
"Now, let's get this business underway. You know the protocol, once you break the Gamma Centauri line, you'll be out of direct communications range, so you'll get no help coming from us. Your the captain, you take could care of your crew and don't do anything I wouldn't!"
"Of course. You make sure everything is ready for us when we get back, Corin."
"We'll hold down the fort, Amy. Now, let's give these politicians and civilians the damn show they wanted."
"Very well sir, Vespucci. Operations, close channel."
"Closing channel, channel closed."
"Broadcast over ship's PA."
"Broadcast open, sir."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, prepare for departure. Engineroom, power up in the realspace engines, get us going to constant speed of .7 speed of light, heading out system. Weapons, lock down torpedoes and power down fusion acclerators and particle guns. Science, bring all sensors to bear, realspace and jumpspace. EASOP contingent, secure weapons lockers and atmosplanes. Medical, prepare emergency jumpsickness treatments and secure patients. Operations, let us know when we are clear of the relative gravity of Earth." The aye sirs chorused across the ship. Each department bustles across the ship. The ship powered up and began moving. This time, it was his turn to give the orders. "Helm, plot in the jump course to Gamma Centauri, give us time in jump estimation." The helm officer, a petty officer 1st/Engineer, gave an estimated jumptime of twenty minutes.
In jumpspace, you couldn't be sure just how long it would take you to get their. Despite being fairly well informed of how things worked in the inner workings of the higher-order dimensons, they had weather patterns just like everywhere else. Turbulence or slow patches could pop up, and it took quite the navigator to figure out how to get through jumpspace. The probes that the ASOC had built had done a pretty good job, but they still knew very little about what they were jumping into. The chief science officer, a lieutenant 1st, spoke up, "Things look smooth and clear in jumpspace sirs, let the record show that the jump is clear."
"This is Chief Engineer Commander Johar, we've reached constant speed of .7c and jump engines are charged and ready."
"This is Colonel Thorpe, weapons and atmosplanes secure, EASOP reports ready for jump."
"This is Ship's Physcian Yolander, treatments are distributed to all crew, the command deck's should be arriving shortly. No patients in the medical bay, all medical supplies secure, medical department reports ready for departure."
"This is Chief Weaponer Alikhan, all weapons powered down and secure. Weapons ready for departure."
The whole ship was ready. This was the moment they had all been waiting for. The other ships were at the other compass points, ready for departure. The order was to be given at 1730 ship time, and they were ready at 1726. Killian smiled a small, but proud and satisfied smile. The operations officer spoke next, "Captain, the other ships report ready at 1727 for the Admunsen, 1728 for the Cartier and Columbus. The captains send their compliments and that they each owe you a drink when we all get back." Everybody on the bridge chuckled at that. They all looked at the ships clock on their display screens. The seconds ticked down. Everyone on the ship was at edge.
1729.56
1729.57
1729.58
1729.59
1730.00
"Helm, engage shut down the realspace engines, go to drift. Activate jump window and bring us in."
Elsewhere across the system each ship did the same. The four ships, filled with the explorers of the Alliance, the brightest minds civilian and military, the greatest cartographers and most dedicated souls of the nation stood together, united against the unknown. Out there, lay untold beauty and wonders, dangers beyond imagination, and to adventures from which some would not return. And so each captain, on each of their ships, at each a specific point in the system of Sol, the only system known to house live, and each the children of the 3rd planet, took their first steps into the universe beyond with this famous command:
"Engage." |
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The twenty-three minutes and fourty-three seconds that it took to reach Gamma Centauri, about 130 lightyears from Earth was a really long twenty-three minutes and fourty-three seconds. That's an incredible distance and speed to cover in just twenty minutes. But then again, the jumptunnel from Earth to Gamma Centauri was one of the clearest. Physicians had theorized that in order for jumptunnels to be clear, they had to be cleared either by force or by natural currents of somekind. Proportions just weren't the same, and Oscar had a tough time wrapping his head around the science. He had met up with one of the science officers, part of the higher-order types, who was the son of an older mechanic who he had served with in the Air Force. Nice guy, but complete egghead. He was 23, maybe 24, and had two doctorates in exotic particle physics and higher-order dimensional physics.
That's whom he watched walk up and sit down with him in the officer's mess. "Hey Oscar, how's it going?" Oscar sipped his water and nodded. The discipline on the ship was a little lax for Oscar, but he had to imagine that the EASOPs and Colonel Thorpe had it worse. For a team that was so elite that by sending four battalions of 600 men each on the ships had depleted their active duty force by ten percent in a military of millions, and they had to deal with the relaxed discipline, Oscar chuckled. "What's funny?"
"Oh nothing, Lieutenant, nothing." Another weird thing with the science branches more and more involved in the military now. They could do both jobs. Erwin here, was rated as a Lieutenant 2nd/Science, but also as a Chief Petty Officer 1st/Engineering. And apparently qualified as an expert marksman, though he couldn't snipe very well. Everyone was trained to fight nowadays, even the poor staff assistants, with everything being so tense back home. Oscar was marvelling and what people could put out if they were forced to meet some expectations. "Just marvelling at the view." He craned his neck to see if there was something he was missing.
"You know, we can't actually see what's going on out there?"
"Well, I'd imagine? How much visible spectrum light does higher-order put out?"
"Almost none. That's why it looks almost solid blue and violet, all on the higer end of the visible frequency spectrum."
"Interesting." He got a water from the cook, who was an EASOP, pretty genial guy, but a killer in combat. EASOP was like that. Cooks, clerics, scientists, logistics, they all fought. They could all fight amazingly well too. Despite Oscar's extensive military backround, he could never hold a candle to those guys. His grandfather had been an member of the old Elite Advance Squad, before they had become a part of the Orbital Command. His communicator buzzed, letting him know that someone wanted him. He tapped his ear, were his speaker and microphone stuck out a little. They were quite small little things, but they worked. "This is Commander Macdauge."
"Commander, this is Captain Killian. Report to the bridge, we're about to drop out of jumpspace into the Gamma Centauri system."
"Aye sir, on my way." He tapped his communicator, shutting off the channel. "Hey listen, Erwin, sorry about this, were about to drop out of jumpspace. We'll play pool another time?" He nodded and motioned towards the door.
"Get going hotshot!" Macdague laughed and went on his way. At his relatively yound age of thirty-two, He was one of the youngest officers chosen for this mission. Most of them were late fourties, early fifties, though thanks to medicine those years were becoming the years that really started drifting off. It had taken a while for medicinal technology to advance to the point were people could realistically look to live to 110 years, but a lot of doctors were saying that even though medical science might be able to push to 150, they doubt that the human mind could handle it. The human mind worked on a certain timescale, and that it would take some serious engineering of the human psyche to get them to accept ages that high. He thought a lot about that as he was towards the gravlift to the bridge.
He stepped off the gravlift as the EASOP guards announced his presence on the bridge. He saluted and moved towards his position at Tactical, with one of his three deputies currently on duty, and two enlisted personnel. He took his seat and then looked at the captain. She stood in the middle of the command deck, and her station along with two adjutants. While the captain had her personal office just off the bridge, she often chose to do her work here in the bridge. Her station had many viewscreens and a tacdisplay, though not as detailed as she had. "Helm, open up jump window and drop into normal space, and bring us to .5c constant speed. Bring us out at half an AU outside of the gravitational flux."
The flux was what was generated by the mass of the star and the spinning as well as some other properties that stars generated in the higher-order dimensions. They were remarkably easy to guie a ship around, because the influx of energy gave you a great deal of precision, though the speeds at which one could travel were greatly decreased. As such, they discovered that low-powered gravitic jump drives were perfect for guiding around the solar system, and might replace realspace engines one day. The flux was designated as the point at which a spaceship would break up if it energed. Macdague looked at his visual display. Up just a little far forward of the ship, the violet and blue soup broke open to reveal the stars. The ship passed through without harm and began a stardard orbit at the distance from flux, or the DFF that the captain had ordered.
Science began scanning the binary system, and as they expected with two hypergiants, no planets, lots of dust particles and emissions from the star. The de Verge collectors were already open, collecting and trapping these particles for potential mining value and for study by the science department. He switched to particle overlay on his view. He noticed something on the screen, a weird convergance other than what was coming out of the stars. Was it expelling or absorbing particles? He said over to Lieutenant 1st/Science Hollerman, "You see the particle convergance at 10x, -27y and about 2.6 Mms DFF?"
"Yes, sir, I do. I can't figure out what it is. After looking at some of these exotic particle and HOE emissions, I'd say it's a rupture in realspace into jumpspace. We'd always theorized that these were possible, but not in nature. Never seen one like these, but then again, you may not be able to see it in jumpspace. Who knows? Captain, requesting permission to launch a probe."
"Aye, Lieutenant, permission granted. Operations, launch one Dellman-class probe, outrig it for jumpspace analyzation."
The probe was launched about ten minutes later, and went merry on it's little course at about .9c before slowing down near the object It began probing with various instruments, and it revealed little. But Hollerman was having the time of his life. Then, Macdague saw it. There was a tiny surge of particles, then nothing. It was like the geyser just stopped. Then there was a passive burst of energy, and something hit the ship, hard. Klaxon alarms began sounding, the ship shook and explosions burst around the bridge. "All hands, alreat condition red! Hollerman, what's going on?"
"I have no idea, sensors are gone, I can't make any sense of this mess! It looks like-" There was a huge burst of pressure, through Macdauge out of his seat. His console and screens exploded and there was a white flash, noise and screaming. Then nothing. |
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Oscar tried to blink, except his eyes wouldn't open. He groaned, and his body could barely move. His hearing was ok, he heard the occasional pop from a busted console, and someone coughing and groaning. Finally, his eyes agreed to open, and he looked up at the ceiling. The bridge was pretty well trashed, and there were a few dead bodies. He touched his radio and tried to get in contact with Sickbay and Yolander, who would no doubt be needed. After a burst of static that nearly drove Oscar to yank off his radio headset, he got to Yolander. "Doctor, this is Commander Macdague. I'm on the bridge, we've got wounded."
"We've got wounded on just about every part of the ship commander. Can you move?"
Macdague tried. With much effort, he pulled himself up and with the help of the tacdisplay, he got himself on his own two feet. His legs were weak, but seemed to be working well. He tried walking a couple of steps, and they hurt, but his legs worked. He tried to lift his arm, only to get a jabbing pain from the long gash on his forearm. He looked at it intently, and felt to see if he had cut an artery. No, no pulsing gushes of blood. He felt a little woozy, so that would explain everything. The fire suppression system had been automatically activated, so the bridge hadan odd plasticky smell to it. The fires hadn't caused much damaged, and it looked like everything had held together. The bulkhead behind the science section had exploded, and he couldn't see anyone moving. People had just started moving. He heard the doctors voice in his ear again.
"Commander, are you alright? Commander?"
"Yeah I'm fine. What are the casualty figures looking like?"
"We've got twelve dead from an explosion in the engineering, two from an accident in the Machine Shop, no weapons were set off so that's good. Three EASOPs from an accident in the atmosplane bay. What about the bridge?"
The smoke from the fires was finally being vented out by the ventilation, but some consoles were still sparking. There was only emergency lighting, with the regular lights having exploded and shattering glass all onto the floor. He limped over to the science station. All dead. "Four from science," he said as he walked over to the operations section. They all looked banged up, but all ok. "None from ops," this time he went over to the helm and navigation section. The chief helsman and navigator were both unconscious, and the two enlisteds were both dead. "Two from helm and navigation. I'm moving on to comm-" he stopped midsentence as he walking into view of the command section. Both the tacdisplay and the console closest to the captain had exploded, sending her and her two assistants into another console that had been shattered. Their bodies were all riddled with shrapnel, and the amount of blood on the floor indicated that they were indeed, dead.
"Yolander, the captain is dead, along with her two deputies. That makes a total of nine dead on the bridge. Get a team up here, and as soon as everyone is conscious, I need all senior officers to the conference room one." |
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