“Hey, Heart! We're coming up to the bridge, can you light the way for us?” She announced to the air. “And please pull out that package I sent down if you would?”
“Of course. It is already waiting.” The speakers adjusted volume towards me. “Lieutenant Gadsden, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Miss Kellinger speaks very highly of you.” I told the disembodied voice to call me Ari, almost saying sergeant by mistake.
Since Lysha didn't seem to be disconcerted talking to a discorporate voice, I tried not to be either. I asked if this was the original hull, and caught a little bit of pride “Yes, everything is original, except the expanded computer systems and a few minor internal modifications. That is why you are able to talk to me! When we, the Star and I became hyperspace capable, we woke up.”
That explained it. The Valor-class was a decent sized ship class, but not hyperspace ready originally. They had great sub-lights as hospital ships. Massive engines and decent comps for their time. As they started aging, they were sold off, and a few folks started retrofitting them.
Making a ship hspace capable isn't as complex as the process sounds. The only thing needed is more computing power if the ship has enough mass. We can push any amount of matter through hspace, but the more mass it has the longer it can stay inside. This doesn’t affect real distance, but it does affect the paths a particular ship can take. More time in hspace meant more potential paths or greater coverage of the galaxy. Basically, the bigger a ship is the more places it can end up going.
The universe is like a giant spinning clock in many ways, and the hspace pathways appear constant, as opposed to relative. So as everything inside the universe is moving and space is expanding it becomes essential to have the best computers available to calculate not only where to enter, but what the conditions will be on the other side of a jump.
The major issue is computers get both better and smaller as time goes on. This allows more computing power to fit into the same physical space making them even smarter. Eventually, by continually upgrading the ships’ computers, they start getting smart enough for some ships wake up becoming first gen AI.
With military and colony craft, it didn’t happen because most of them were already large enough and were hspace ready. Upgrading them resulted in more storage space, while the ones that weren’t, didn’t need as large of computer upgrades so the connections needed for consciousness didn't occur. With the smaller sized craft, enhancements had the physical space limitation of the ship itself, netting the same result. Their computers weren’t quite there yet. At least not during that the first era. But for ships about the size of the Heart, doors for computer-based intelligence opened.
As Lysha led me through Heart towards his main control bridge, I saw he was in pristine condition for a ship approaching a hundred and fifty years. I ran my hands along the bulkheads as we walked and admired the craftsmanship. Lysha caught me staring and slowed our walk pointing out areas as we went. Although we were taking a direct route, she made sure to point out anything I stared at for more than a few seconds. In the few minute walk, it became obvious she was not only an expert on Heart’s inner workings but on ships in general.
“My great-grandfather bought him and Star from the salvage lot. Can you believe the old Federation government was going to scrap him? He couldn't get the Valor or Cross, but we're hoping someday. We think they're somewhere out near Vaneles and Trandhelm.” I asked after the Star.
“She's with my aunt exploring. Rosly does not have the right temperament for management, but she's great at finding opportunities out-system. Has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to raw potential. She checks in about once a year, usually with a new plaything on her arm.” I truly enjoyed her laugh. “I love her dearly, but thank goodness she's not a man. I don't think I could handle chasing off heirs.”
The command deck doors opened for us, giving a spectacular view of the hangar. We were a good fifteen meters off the floor, but could see the back wall, displaying what appeared to be the prize collection. Bays of smaller crafts lined the walls, all vintage, but not all perfect. Many of them were worn, dinged, or pitted as if they had been recovered and placed exactly as found. I uttered a wow at the collection. Some were ancient and shouldn't even be on Luna. I looked closer and saw several sealed behind containment fields.
“Is there one you would like a closer look at Lieutenant?” Heart asked, and I was so distracted I didn't even bother to correct him, and only nodded. I think he was tracking my eye movements to the Stellar R8 I had spotted off to a side, and he adjusted a view screen so I could see her better.
I gave a silent whistle as the screen zoomed in. She was a beautiful ship. Unlike Heart who was more teardrop shaped, the Stellar looked like an octopus. Her front bulbous and rounded, designed with the massive shield projectors in mind, while the rear was all thrust. This led to a much more simplistic design. Almost like the classic drawing of a rocket ship every kid sketches. It's said everyone knows where they were when a few key events in history happen. Every generation has one. The Stellar R8 slingshotting around the sun was my generation’s.
A little context to that. Slingshotting around the sun doesn't sound like a big deal. Terra spins around the Sol constantly. By building up speed, using Sol's gravity to advantage, and then launching with sub-light engines, a ship can get near light speed. Combined with hspace drives and the right point in space, humankind can exit the galaxy. It was the proof of concept of angrav and sub-lights working in conjunction to create extra-galactic travel.
I asked if she was the original. “Sadly, no. Lady Persephone has not yet returned though we are hopeful. Her reactors are good for approximately seventy-five more years. Based on her exit trajectory, there is a high confidence she survived the jump into hyperspace. Based on her mass and estimated speed at entry, she would maintain travel for approximately twelve to eighteen years. Her chances of return truly depend on whether she can find a star or singularity close enough to her arrival point make a similar return trip. Otherwise, she will offload her cargo of beacons, and perhaps the next ship will be able to collect valid data.”
Heart's words seemed pragmatic laced with a little sadness. I felt the pain. Seeing the Stellar R8 launch when I was still a kid is what made me want to go to space, any way I could. At first, I wanted to be an engineer. Until I realized I wasn't smart. Then I wanted to be an explorer, until I realized they also had to be smart, like engineers. Eventually, I happened upon the Legion. Legionnaires got to work in space. I was all in.
One nice thing about growing up in Alaska is we can still see the stars. I've been down south, and there's too much light. It blocks them out but up near the poles, when it's dark out, the stars glow. They called to me and the first time I had enough money saved up, I was on the first shuttle to Luna. I played tourist for all of a half hour before making it to White Caps. The recruiters had my thumbprint before explaining everything. I didn't care. Best thing I ever did.
I never felt quite as comfortable as when I was back home, though. It doesn't get hot or cold on ship. Everything is a constant. Sure, there’s a feeling of hot or cold, but it's not the same. I know it's all in my head, like the pain in my shoulder. Either that or someone has been fiddling with the controls. The experience isn’t the same.
For whatever reason, his tone slammed me back into a homesick mood. Not Heart’s fault, but I think the talk about the Stellar reminded me of home, and looking out at the stars. I used to do that every chance I got on ship and my recent flight training had been giving me more chances to see them as well. I think it was reminding me of how close I was.
“Ari, you with us?” I apologized for mentally wandering off. “It's okay. You just looked a little lost there for a second. Grab a seat, I wanted to ask you something.” The captain's chair shifted for me. That seemed a little ominous, but I went with courteous as she grabbed the next chair over.
She bit her lip, a sign of nervousness I had only glimpsed before. “So, I'm not
really comfortable with you heading down to Terra alone. I was going to suggest you take Robert with you as a partner.” I opened my mouth to object, but she held up her hand. “But we both know that's a bad idea. He's easily recognizable as someone attached to Luna Corp. So I was thinking, if you don't mind, maybe. Maybe taking Heart with you.” She held like she was waiting for objections.
“You're going to need a ship anyways. And he's about the right size.” I slammed the brakes for a second. Mainly from shock, and then to buy me a minute and asked if Heart was all right with that.
“Oh, certainly Lieutenant, this was actually my suggestion. I believe it will increase the odds of success for your mission to have access to a higher end transport, and better computer array.” This time, I did manage to correct him and told him to stop calling me lieutenant if we are going to be working together.
“Then it's settled!” Lysha announced, and all the nervousness and uncertainty I had seen moments ago disappeared. She was back in command, back in her element, and excited. Einstein’s Ghost! What had I agreed to? She hopped up and ran to the back of the bridge and grabbed a package, and plopped it on my lap. “For you! Open it!”
It was a large box, perhaps three-quarters of a meter squared on the top, and about twenty centimeters deep. Upon opening I found a near duplicate of my jacket. “I know you love yours because you wear it everywhere but there’s no way you can take it down to Terra, so I hope you don't mind, but I had this one made for while you’re there.” I pulled the new jacket out and saw there were only a few major differences. Rather than the deep scarlet of mine, this was a midnight blue, the exact shade of the tuxedo I had worn on our first date. The prominent gold stripes on the arm were absent, and instead, both collars had machined holes on for rank insignia rather than just the right side where I kept my bursting bomb insignia. Finally, the club patch was absent, and in its place was an attachment holder like the Mariners’ Guild used. In the bottom of the box, there was a smaller box and a note.
I read the note first. “My boy, look after these, I wore them long ago. AC.” Opening the case, I found a pair of crossed silver bars denoting a Captain.
I looked at Lysha and told her this was too much and expensive to boot. “What's the point of being rich if I can't spend my money on the man I love?” Well, that shut me up. I stood there flabbergasted for several seconds, before saying thank you for the gift, and telling her how I felt as well. “Besides, I'm stealing your jacket until you get back. These are amazing. And it smells like you.”
I asked about the rank and pointed out I wasn't a captain. I wasn't even a lieutenant or a sergeant anymore. “Oh that, you forget, we're on Luna, you are what we say you are. Do you want to be a Colonel?” What, no, I almost yelled, but I think she saw my face.
“Captain Gadsden, you are Captain of the Heart. As such, Miss Kellinger and General Campbell have used their respective authorities to commission you.” Heart chimed in. “Even had they not, you could use the honorific and insignia by tradition alone.” I eyeballed the nearest control panel and chastised him about the rank thing. “You said I wasn't to call you Lieutenant, Captain. Nothing about Captain, Captain.” I expanded the directive to using first name only. “Yes, Ari.” I caught a hint of a snicker in that, but let it pass, and then thanked him for the informality.
Lysha stared at me for several moments then in an exasperated tone demanded “Try the jacket on. I want to make sure it fits. It’s not like we can tailor it.” I stood, taking off my Legion jacket, hanging it on her shoulders, and then slid into the new coat. Still a little stiff but fit like a glove. She pulled the rank insignia from the case and fastened them in place. Two silver Xs at my throat, and then firmly christened me Captain of the Heart with a kiss.
Chapter 8
My introduction to Heart was the perhaps the final piece needed for the mission. I hated to think of him as merely a means of transportation, but the question had been bothering me. Getting to Terra was a major portion of the General’s assignment. Meeting Heart made everything appear real for the first time. He was the final piece that bringing everything into focus.
Although I kept a room at White Caps since landing in LC, it was little more than a formality. When training at Tycho I had the stateroom, and when back in the city I stayed with Lysha. She had even given me a few drawers in her apartment for spare personal items. Cleaning out my White Caps had been simple, as I canceled my indef key, and let the couple of remaining belongings shift to my vault. Gathering up my belongings at Lysha’s was far more complex because I was doing so under her watchful eye.
We weren’t sure how long I would be gone, and I was lax to leave items for her to deal with over the coming months. Not as though I had much to begin with. Outside of a half-full duffel, most items were already in my vault. The only real exception was my jacket, which Lysha had taken to wearing as promised. Robert confided he was happy strictly from a security standpoint and was thinking about getting her more synth-leather items. The only other items of note were the dinner jacket and a couple of suits. She informed me those would stay in the closet until I got back, and her tone indicated it was not the hill I wanted to die on. Since I couldn’t think of any reason why I might need the more formal attire, into the closet the suit went, hanging next to the slinky number she had worn on our first date.
This trip reminded me of previous departures and the occasional cutting of ties accompanying relationships on other worlds. Lysha was having none of that. “It’s a business trip. You go, you come back and we resume where we left off.” Despite the confidence of her words, I still wasn’t sure how she could remain so adamant, but her certainty of nothing changing bordered the supernatural. I was happy for her confidence because she kept me focused.
The last minute items were beginning to pile up and without her, Robert, the General, and Heart, I know I would have forgotten something, or worse botched something important. After meeting Heart, I started visiting him as often as possible. My goal was to learn how to fly him and work with him. He, in turn, wanted to get out of the hanger as much as possible and was elated to have company. I asked him why he didn’t fly alone and got a simple “There’s no excitement in it.” His attitude surprised me more than anything did. I wouldn’t have thought excitement was a desirable outcome. “Quite the contrary. What is the point of going wherever you want, if you cannot share the experience? I enjoy seeing new places, but my enjoyment has always been significantly higher when I have had a crew.” He had a great point.
That led me to ask what he did when he wasn’t flying. “I have projects I work on. You saw many of them the day we first met.” I thought back to that first day and realized he meant the ships in the hanger triggering another slew of questions. “I like to restore them. The hobby can be time-consuming. Did you know there are entire message boards dedicated to a specific type of craft or even a series batch? People are incredibly helpful and willing to share their knowledge.” Some of the ships he had were unbelievable.
It made me wonder how he worked on them. “The hanger is a fully outfitted shipyard, and we have linked many of its systems to where I can control them remotely. I have fabrication bays available myself for smaller items, repairs, or if I need to make a tool and my drones are capable of precision work.” I had seen a few of them wandering about but hadn’t made the connection.
Our discussion sparked an idea, I hoped Heart would agree to. I asked about the possibility of doing a final mission dinner with the entire team. “Easily done. We can use the wardroom if you would like. It’s been unused for some time, but I think the facility would be fitting.” He paused for a moment “Leave things to me.” I told him I wasn’t trying to put him in an odd position. “As Captain, you have other concerns to worry about. If we are going to be working together, you will need to delegate quite a bit in the future. Let us treat this as a test run.” I could definitely see how he and Lysha got along.
I’m not sure if it was his personality or i
ntelligence that made everything come together for the dinner, but we ended up having an outstanding time. Lysha and I arrived first with the General and Robert showing up only twenty minutes behind us. Heart had rearranged the wardroom into a cozier set up with a central dining table, a small bar to one side, and nook with chairs rivaling the ones at Mason & Redback to one side. Knowing those were aboard was going to end up being a huge distraction. I debated asking about moving one onto the bridge itself instead deciding to request for one in my stateroom later.
There was no shoptalk that evening since everything feasible was already complete. It was a night of relaxation, good food, and far too much drink. Everyone told stories and jokes, quite a few in horrible taste, which elicited far more laughter than I thought was possible from our professional crowd. Even Robert had a couple of glasses of a dark red beer and told a few war stories bordering on bawdy, which for him was near obscene. His posture had never been uptight but during dinner, he was positively relaxed to the point where he hinted at his reasons for not returning to Terra. Unlike me, he was content with the expat lifestyle.
As good evenings go, this one turned out great. The night concluded when the General finally bowed out taking advantage of Heart’s generous offer to a stateroom for the evening. Robert grabbed one as well stating, “That’s more drink than I’ve had in six months. I doubt I’m safe to drive.” With those parting words he left Lysha, Heart, and I alone and carefree. Even Heart excused himself shortly thereafter, claiming to go into standby, though I think he was being courteous. Finally, Lysha offered to give me a tour of the ship, which I thought odd until she dragged me into the Captain’s quarters.
Chapter 9
Although Heart and I had been making almost daily runs around Luna, after lots of discussions, we had decided a direct flight from Luna to Terra would not be the wisest course of action. Instead, we chose to get some inter-system time to Ganymede or Titan in to establish my credentials as a local trader.
Ships of Valor 1: Persona Non Grata Page 6