by Drew Wagar
Status Quo (Oolite Saga part 1)
Drew Wagar
Published: 2006
Tag(s): elite oolite science fiction space opera retro adventure
License
Status Quo
A novella based on the space trading game Oolite
Published by Drew Wagar at Smashwords
Copyright 2006 Drew Wagar
http://www.wagar.org.uk/
License
Status Quo is licensed according to Creative Commons BY-NC-SA.
You are free to:
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to make derivative works
Under the following conditions:
Attribution. You must give the original author credit
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Note:
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Any of these conditions can be waived if you get permission from the copyright holder
Thanks
Thanks to:
My Wife, Anita - For believing I could write a decent story, then reading and critiquing the manuscript.
My two sons, Mark and Joshua - The next generation of Elite Combateers.
My Mum and Dad – For buying me a ZX Spectrum 48k Computer for Christmas 1983 (rrp £175 inc. VAT), and following up with an very expensive computer game in 1984. At £14.95, Elite was pricey, but it was arguably the most influential Christmas present I ever received.
Giles Williams – For creating Oolite, a modern incarnation of Elite, utilising the capabilities of modern machines whilst retaining the charm of the original. Its design also fosters collaboration, as many aspects of the game can be modified by freely available tools. If only all software was like this.
David Hughes – David has written a significant amount of chronological back story connecting all of the ‘*Lite’ games.
Simon Ellis – Simon edited the final document, providing a huge number of improvements in syntax, grammar and style.
Ian Bell and David Braben – The authors of original Elite game.
Robert Holdstock – For the original ‘The Dark Wheel’ novella, that came packaged with Elite. This novella was an inspirational ‘scene setter’ for the original Elite.
Introduction
Introduction
Simply put, a Q-bomb (or to use its proper name, the Tyley-Feynman Quirium cascade mine) is a chain reaction device. Although it is physically very small, its effect has been described as being ‘like a miniature supernova, and just as deadly’. The gravitic shockwave it emits causes any matter caught within its range to be annihilated in another gravitic flash which expands in the same way as the original detonation, resulting in a domino effect. The upshot, then, is that the initial Q-bomb explosion is only the start. Secondary explosions (the strongest caused by the destruction of its victims’ hyperdrives) progress in much the same way, catching further objects and causing them to explode, until there is no more significant matter to be consumed by the expanding waves of destruction.
The explosion expands in a sphere from the point of initial detonation. It is accompanied by the emission of high-energy photons (from gamma rays to visible light, mostly in the blue frequency range of the spectrum). The expansion of the sphere is easily observable (from a safe distance) and travels relatively slowly. The word ‘relatively’ is key here:- most ships are unable to outrun the effect sphere without witch space fuel injectors, and should a ship not make good its escape early on, even injectors may be insufficient for the craft to reach minimum safe distance.
Thus, the results of a Q-bombing can be rather spectacular.
– Extract from the Elite Webcon Interactive Knowledge Institute (Elite-Wiki)
Galcop strenuously denies having anything to do with the bomb, and have unofficially supported the call for it to be banned, stating that it should never have been invented. So they were obviously involved from the start.
Tyley and Feynman were never interviewed, never received any public accolade. It was said they were merely research scientists who shied away from scrutiny and the media spotlight, not proud of the device they had created. No photos exist and no records of life events can be found. They have never been heard from since.
– Extract from the Unofficial Galcop Conspiracy Theory Archive, Tianve
Flight license denial for Rebecca Weston and James McKenna overridden. Presidential approval.
– Extract from Lave Space Licensing Authority Log
Prologue
Prologue
The Python class cruiser was a vicious looking ship. Lean, angular, fast and deadly, sporting a shark-tooth livery, it was the nemesis of many an unhappy trader. Its jutting fuel scoop granted it an eerie resemblance to the fearsome marine hunter that inspired its design.
True to form it was chasing down its prey, a battered Mk3 Cobra, the traders' seminal ship. The Cobra was a versatile vessel, and was often seen in fully loaded battle readiness – an 'Iron Ass' to use the vernacular.
This particular one wasn't so well endowed. It was attempting to flee the Python, in vain.
The Python triggered its forward weapons array again, the Cobra rolling drunkenly in a hopeless attempt to escape. Its rear shields failed and tell-tale plasma began to leak from its overworked drive units. A couple more hits and it would succumb.
The Python's owner, a pirate of some notoriety, savoured his victim's last moments. The cargo had already been stolen, and he didn't feel in a merciful mood today, he had his reputation to maintain.
His gloved hands closed over the firing controls as he rotated his ship to bring the unfortunate Cobra back into the cross hairs.
'Thank you, and good night… '
The Python lurched, then lurched again, throwing off his aim. Cursing, he adjusted his scanner. A new red blip had appeared, a hostile ship, targeting him! The Python lurched again, his rear shield now fully a third gone.
Quickly he targeted the newcomer. He was surprised to see it was a lone Sidewinder. A small lightly armed vessel. It had no witchspace drive, no way to travel between the stars. A simple interplanetary ship, usually used as a cheap and cheerful escort. The signature of the hits on his shields indicated it was armed with the basic pulse laser common to such a simple ship. It was unusual for a Sidewinder to be journeying alone, even in a safe system like Tianve.
Sidewinder. Mass 52 Metric. Speed .375 LM. Legal Status Clean, Bounty 0 Cr.
He flicked on the narrowband comms and sent out a hail to the new ship.
'Stand down. This is a legitimate kill. If you don't want to join him, I suggest you reverse course now. You're outgunned. Leave while you still can.'
The answer was another double hit on his rear shield.
'You have been warned!' he growled.
Another blast.
Can't really be bothered with this, your funeral fool.
He locked a missile on target, choosing one of the the ECM proof 'hard heads' – expensive, but effective. He'd make an embarrassing amount of profit on this trip, he had money to burn. He thumbed the coder release.
The missile shot away with furious speed, immediately homing in on the Sidewinder. To his surprise there was no futile burst of ECM energy attempting to remotely detonate the missile. The Sidewinder didn't even turn aside in an attempt to avoid the missile. Instead it headed straight for it. The two objects converging at a terrifying speed.
At the point of collision the Sidewinder jinked aside, twis
ting around its centre axis abruptly, the missile passing mere metres below its hull. Deprived of its target the missile veered around. The Sidewinder then turned itself…
… in pursuit of the missile!
Laser fire flickered out, once, twice. The missile detonated a second later, the Sidewinder coming about in a wide arc and homing in once again on the Python. Two more impacts registered on the shields before the Python's Captain reacted.
Shot down a missile? Impressive…
He recovered quickly. He was a veteran of space borne combat. His ship was more than a match for the Sidewinder. Fore and aft military lasers packed a punch that would decimate the smaller ship. The Sidewinder stood no chance. Quickly he cycled up the engines to full power, rotating his ship to face his assailant.
'Very clever.' he taunted across the comm, 'But you'll have to better than that.'
There was no answer from the incoming Sidewinder. Hits registered again on his shields as the Python lumbered around to bring its weapons to bear.
One decent hit and it'll be toast.
The Sidewinder jinked again on its approach, short bursts of laser fire still emanating from its pea shooter of a gun. It passed through the gun sights of the Python.
Goodbye…
He triggered the forward military laser.
The Sidewinder wasn't there. It had ducked aside, radically changing its speed and approach vector, anticipating his move. Two more bursts of fire hit the shields.
He fired again, with the same result. He turned the Python, leading the target. The Sidewinder twisted aside, reversing course. Each twist was accompanied by a blast from its feeble gun.
Forward shields failed.
The Captain stared in surprise at the readouts, the shields were gone, and he'd yet to hit the interloper. He concentrated back on the Sidewinder again, still ducking and diving in front of him. The military laser splashed forth again and again. Each time he came close the Sidewinder would roll aside, twisting and rotating in an unpredictable way, managing to pull in behind the Python and treating it to yet another light blast of fire. He fired again, failing to hit the elusive smaller ship.
Forward weapon overheated!
He launched his remaining missiles, watching in astonishment as the Sidewinder targeted each in turn and shot them down.
With increasing concern he began to run through a wide variety of evasive and counter moves. Regardless of what he did he was unable to land a shot on the darting Sidewinder, yet at every turn it managed to score a hit on him. It was like being pecked to death.
Who is this? I've never seen flying like this before! No evasive pattern is effective! I've taken down Elite combateers before! I'll not be defeated by a mere Sidewinder with a feeble…
Another blast of fire hit the Python, tearing through the weakened shields and striking the hull of the ship. The screech of tortured duralium hull plating sheering and fracturing echoed through the fabric of the ship.
Cargo Hold Damaged!
Fuel Injectors Damaged!
Missile Launch mechanism Damaged!
Energy Low!
Plasma was now leaking through a breach in the hull. The pirate captain starred in amazement and disbelief as his ship began to come apart around him. Another laser blast impacted, rocking the ship hard. A crack appeared in the bulkhead, accompanied by the terrifying rush of air venting abruptly into space. The interior of the cockpit became a whirl of spinning debris in the sudden vortex.
Taken down by a Sidewinder with a pulse laser…
The Pirate realised with fury that he'd left it too late to run, unable to believe the predicament in which he found himself. He locked the witchspace computer onto the nearest system and hit the engage code.
Hyperspace to Anle in 15 seconds…
The Sidewinder turned and faced him directly, laser fire flickering across space between the two ships. The pirate instinctively ducked as the forward viewer shattered, raining debris across the fractured cockpit, grabbing a remlok survival mask and diving for the escape pod.
This can't be happening! Who is this?
Hyperspace motors damaged!
Escape pod release mechanism damaged!
Structural integrity failure imminent!
The pirate grabbed the narrow-band transmitter, one of the few pieces of equipment still functioning.
'Who the prak are you?' he demanded, furious at his own impotence.
'Don't mess with the best, 'cause the best don't mess.' came a light, cocky voice across the comm.
The pirate's last words died furiously on his lips as his ship disintegrated about him.
'A girl? A girl!'
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
James Feynman was from the planet Onrira, thirty-something, tall, thin and dark–haired, with a hint of premature grey around the temples.
He was also a something of a genius.
His parents had used specialized, and costly, genetic engineering techniques to improve his brain capability. Hours of intensive sim training had given him the edge over the best pupils that a tech level fourteen planet could throw at him by way of competition. Close to the pinnacle of his career, he was a successful ship systems designer, ex-Cowell and MgRath consultant and a rising star in the technical design team of Faulcon De Lacy. After graduating top of his class in astrophysics and applied quantum mechanics, a string of successful projects had followed, culminating in this, his current research.
He peered through the double strength plexiglass and shield-reinforced windows of the test lab. Suspended on a gravity sled in the middle of the room was a miniature engine, its engine flux glowing a bright blue. Of course, the engine design was beyond secret: this newly-built Faulcon de Lacy lab at Onrira dealt in technology way beyond state of the art: there was stuff here that wouldn’t be mainstream until long after he was dead.
He turned to his colleague, Geraint, a small, almost emaciated man distinguished mostly by a mass of white hair, two huge ocular implants and a quick, almost abrupt manner. He was from Diso, and about as dull. Perhaps that was what made him a good assistant.
'All clear?' he asked.
'Standard engine burn at full power, holding steady.'
They could both hear the tiny engine humming from inside the lab.
'Quirium injector?'
'Ready.'
'Stand by to inject at point five grams per second, continuous flow. Throttle set for auto-cut on overheat.'
'Ready, Jim.'
Everyone called him Jim. A nicely innocuous name, he preferred it to the slightly snobbish sounding James.
'You know, if this works, it will be one awesome ship. I might even take a flight myself.'
Geraint laughed. 'You? Fly? You threw up constantly on the sub orbital flight, never mind a test flight at injector speeds!'
'I think I’d be all right if I could be at the controls rather than a passenger.'
'You think they’d even let you near one? You can’t even handle those old wireframe simulators they used to train pilots on.'
'I managed on the Z80A.'
'Pah, cheap knock-off copy. The real classic sim was the 6502.'
'The Model B? That old hunk of junk?'
They always argued over classic tech. With the easy familiarity of a middle-aged couple, a lot of their conversations degenerated into nostalgia for things past. Strange how so many people their age seemed to want to revisit the past, as though it were comforting in some way. Jim cut off Geraint’s spluttering response.
'Let’s run the test, eh?'
The tiny engine under test was a prototype for a new fighter Galcop was designing under contract with Faulcon. Top secret and ultra-classified, it was planned to be the basis for an augmented injector technology. Witchspace fuel injectors were a relatively new technique of drastically increasing the speed of a ship, without resorting to the rather cumbersome hyperspeed, or torus drive, fitted as standard to all ships through the last fifty years.
The
problem was that hyperspeed drives only worked in clear, open space. If there was another significant mass nearby – a sun, a planet, or another hyperspeed equipped ship, say – they were useless, relying as it did on unhindered gravity lensing. There was no way to block out the effect of another gravity field, which rapidly became a major nuisance if you wanted to fly in formation with other vessels.
Injectors were a promising tech, but there were a few bugs to work out.
The big problem with fuel injectors was that they were notoriously inefficient. They burnt fuel direct from the Quirium hyperspace tanks and the conversion efficiency was appalling: less than one percent. You burnt out all your hyperspace fuel in scant minutes if you used injectors constantly.
‘Burnt’ was, of course, totally the wrong word to use. Jim sighed; it had been the only way the marketers could find to explain it. There wasn’t a spincorp in existence that could get ‘Quirium quanta radial decay phenomena’ onto a glossy and make it stick, let alone sound sexy.
What Galcop wanted was a witchspace injector which was at least ten times more efficient than the current versions. This would provide a ship so equipped with virtually unlimited high speed flight, making the old hyperspeed drive obsolete overnight. giving Galcop the ability to lock down the Thargoid menace and drive a hard, sharp, Viper-shaped wedge into the anarchies.
The exhaust flux of the engine lengthened and changed from blue to deep magenta.
'Injection at point-five grams per second. Heat within normal tolerance,' Geraint reported.
The Galcop techies had worked on it for a year and said with equal parts of annoyance and smugness that it couldn’t be done.