by Rodney Smith
* * * * *
Valeri Yestepkin looked around at his laboratory. It was sparse and a far cry from what he enjoyed when he worked for the Blakes, but was sufficient to his needs. A non-competition clause in his previous contract with the Blakes prohibited him from working on projects using the same or similar technology as the Blakes developed, but he was content to be working on his own.
Valeri had an idea for a weapon, an idea he had gotten when working for the Blakes, but did not use their technology. It was a weapon that did what the transporter gate did in disassembling the molecules of an object, but it had no ability to put them together again. It was, in effect, a disrupter beam.
He had applied for and received a government research grant that paid for his laboratory and two assistants here on Shepard. He had already produced a prototype demonstration weapon, per the grant requirements. A team at Fleet Ordnance had his weapon prototype and was testing it to determine its efficacy and suitability.
Valeri was now working on scaling his system to different sizes. He worked with a computer assisted design program to bring the size down to that of a hand weapon. If he could get it that small, he could easily scale it up to an assault rifle-sized weapon. Valeri thought it would make a replacement for the heavy M57 blast rifles that assault troops currently carried. If his calculations were correct, the disrupter rifle would be half the weight of the M57 and shoot twice as far.
Scaling up beyond personal weapon size was a bit of a challenge, because the power requirements expanded faster than the size increased. A weapon scaled up to be a cruiser’s main armament would require its own engine for power. There was a way to make it more energy efficient, but it eluded him at the moment. Until he figured it out, he would work on the personal weapon design.
Cindy Matthews, one of his research assistants, came back from lunch. She was a very pretty woman, several years younger than Valeri. She was tall, well built, and usually favored skirts or dresses that showed off her long legs, her best feature. Today she wore a light white blouse and a short blue skirt with braid-like piping along the hem. She pulled him away from the terminal and handed him a pastrami and Swiss on rye sandwich, his favorite.
“Eat, damn it! Valeri, you’re no good to us unconscious from lack of food.”
He saved what he was working on and turned to eat his sandwich at the workbench. Cindy poured a cup of coffee and fixed it for him, then set it down next to the sandwich and left the room. She came back in a few moments, wearing her lab coat.
He asked, “Where is Ron? Shouldn’t he be back from lunch now?”
“Ron took the afternoon off to take care of some personal matter. You said he could have the time off. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, yes, something to do with his taxes as I recall.”
She went over to the work outline board and stood staring at it for a while. Valeri finished his sandwich and his coffee.
He asked, “What, no dessert?”
This brought a laugh from Cindy. She turned around, holding open her lab coat, revealing only her. Her blouse and skirt must have been left in the other room. She walked toward him, dropping the coat off her shoulders as she approached. She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She stared into his eyes as she said, “How’s this for dessert? I’ve been waiting for us to be alone for a long time, you workaholic.”
Later, Cindy lay against his side on his office couch, her left leg draped over his. Her head rested upon his chest and she twirled the hairs there.
“Valeri, I hate to talk shop, but you can’t keep working on that old terminal. You’ll make yourself blind. It’s so slow. If you’d gotten that bonus for working on the Blake’s invention, you could have afforded a new one. Just how hard did they push for you to be included?”
Cindy had been unhappy about Valeri’s failure to get the bonus for the transporter rings that all the other workers on the team received. She kept harping on how much he contributed to the project for nothing. He’d been gone less than a month when they announced the bonuses. One would think they could make an exception. Moira Blake told him they had pushed hard to get him included in the bonus fund, but the finance bureaucrats said no. Moira even offered to give him her bonus, but he couldn’t accept. Besides, Fleet owed him the bonus, not Moira.
Cindy kept bugging him about it as if there was anything more he could do. Even now, after this unexpectedly memorable lunch, she couldn’t leave it alone. He wondered if this was just a set up to make him go back and tilt at the bureaucratic windmill…again. He smiled, because if it was a set up, it was one he could get used to.
* * * * *
Friedrich Debran was impressed with Irina Bugarov. She carried herself well, and was knowledgeable about Debran Industries holdings and recent company activities. She had done her homework. She also had a pretty good idea of what her job would entail, and had several ideas she offered freely to improve the company’s exposure in the defense market. There were changes and upgrades needed to Fighter Force aircraft that could be marketed to her former colleagues, if they could be simultaneously marketed to key members of the GR Assembly.
He liked her sense of duty, commitment and political manipulation. She freely told him that she had no romantic, family, or other commitments, and could devote however many hours the job required to ensure it was done right.
His mind was made up. He offered her the job at a reasonable salary, by private sector standards, but significantly more than a two-star general made. He enjoyed giving Flag Officers low initial salaries, as it fueled his sense of superiority. She accepted.
* * * * *
LTJG Cortez pushed the engine modifications through in record time. A big incentive was the fact that she couldn’t leave for her new assignment as the Vigilant’s XO until she had the modifications installed and tested. In a week and a half, the modifications were fitted to the Vigilant and ready for live testing.
Half of Connie’s team from the Repair and Refit Directorate embarked on the Vigilant for the in-space trial. There were wires run everywhere to connect all the instrumentation that had been brought aboard.
Kelly truly took actual command of his ship for the first time, when he requested permission to take off for the test. Upon approval, he gave the order to lift off and experienced almost an electric rush of excitement as the ship, his ship, rose into the air. They quickly left the atmosphere and moved out of the system.
Connie was afforded the use of the XO’s position on the bridge for test monitoring purposes, although technically she was not yet the XO. Her boss, LT Roger Dahlens, who Kelly had met his first day on Armstrong, was the senior engineering officer on board and in charge of the test.
Kelly watched their progress through the system and ordered them to FTL Power 1 as they crossed the last orbital plane, leaving the red giant Antares behind. Chief Blankenship sent the helm a transit course though dark space, the ship smoothly speeding up to light speed. Kelly asked for a status check from the engine room. Everything was operating well within tolerances. LT Dahlens nodded at this information and turned to Kelly, “Captain, would you increase speed to FTL Power 3, at your discretion?”
Kelly gave the order and the ship smoothly accelerated to many times the speed of light. He called back to engineering and got a report that all was still well within tolerances.
LT Dahlens acknowledged the report and gave clearance for a full speed test. Kelly gave the order and watched the FTL meter on his display climb to FTL Power 4, FTL Power 5, and then to FTL Power 6. It felt no different than FTL Power 1. The indicator continued to climb slowly until it stopped at FTL Power 6.6.
Kelly called for a status check from engineering and a jubilant Chief Miller came back, “Sir, she’s purring like a kitten. There was not so much as a spike while she climbed through the numbers. I believe we just set a speed record for a Fleet ship, Captain.”
Kelly let the ship run for 30 minutes and said, “ Helm, bring us down t
o 0.9c.”
The helmsman backed off the speed control and the Vigilant smoothly coasted down to just below light speed. He answered, “We are below light speed at 0.9c, sir.”
Kelly looked at his display and ordered, “Helm, all stop. Sensors, report all contacts. Engineering, report status.”
Helm answered, “All stop, sir.”
Sensors answered, “Conducting a sweep, sir. Sensors report all clear, sir.”
Chief Miller reported all systems normal.
“Helm, turn us around. Line us up with the reverse of the course that got us here.”
When the ship was lined up on the new course, Kelly turned to LT Dahlens and asked, “What will happen if I punch it? What happens if I take us to FTL Power 6 as fast as I can?”
LT Dahlens turned to LTJG Cortez. “Connie, it’s your design. What do you think will happen?”
“I think she’ll run like a scalded cat, sir.”
Kelly turned to Chief Blankenship and said, “Sound battle stations. Sound the collision alarm, Chief.”
People all over the ship hunkered down in their seats. Those off watch ran to their battle stations. The helm and navigator tightened their harnesses.
Kelly looked around at the orderly chaos, waiting for battle stations to be reported from all sections. As the last report came in, Kelly ordered FTL Power 6. The compensators and artificial gravity increased power to keep everyone in their place. The helmsman called out the numbers as they came and went. The Vigilant topped off at FTL Power 6 in 23 seconds. LT Dahlens let his breath out in a rush. Kelly laughed.
“What’s the matter, Lieutenant? Didn’t you trust your own handiwork?”
“Oh, I trust what my people did. I just didn’t necessarily trust what the original shipyard workers did. I’m glad they built a good, strong ship. I never figured any captain would do what you just did. That was a lot of stress on the hull, sir.”
“It may save my life and all on this ship someday. I had to see what would happen. Lieutenant, do you need to conduct any more tests or are we done?”
LT Dahlens responded, “You’ve exceeded all my requirements, sir.”
Kelly said, “Well, thank you and your crew, Lieutenant. Navigator, lay in a course to Antares Base. Helm, bring us to FTL Power 5. Secure from general quarters, and take us home.”
The short trip back to Antares Base was uneventful. LT Dahlens said his goodbye to LTJG Cortez. She would transfer to the Vigilant as soon as they got back and the order was cut.
Kelly turned the conn over to Chief Blankenship and made a quick tour of the ship. He picked up a cup of coffee and some cookies from the galley as he made his way back forward, then took his seat and watched his bridge crew at work as they approached Antares Base and landed. Now, with a full crew, he could plan his work ups and make this ship his own.
* * * * *
Workups went smoothly, almost effortlessly. Kelly thought he would have a lot of difficulty getting the crew to gel, what with the crew changeover as Kelly took command, but his chiefs had other ideas. They worked separately to get their individual sections in shape and then worked together toward a cohesive whole. Newly arrived Chief Josiah Johnson, the new sensor chief, increased sensor efficiency and won a bet with Chief Blankenship. His years as the senior sensor instructor at the Fleet Sensor School were put to good use.
Kelly put his crew through its paces in five days. Around the clock drills sharpened the crew’s responsiveness. Every crewmember could work not just his or her own job, but also the job of the person next over and the person above in the chain of command.
There were a few humorous moments, such as one unexpected call to general quarters, when one of the female members of the damage control party showed up on the bridge to deal with a simulated leak wearing just a towel. It snagged on a panel almost immediately and dropped off, leaving her in just what nature gave her. Undeterred, she finished her simulated repair and received a standing ovation from the bridge crew. She donned her towel, bowed deeply, and left the bridge with Chief Blankenship hot on her trail.
Kelly had the crew practice skills that had kept them alive in K’Rang territory. He had them make multiple FTL jumps from one arm of a local nebula to the other. His goal was to be at FTL power one by the time they left the near nebula arm and be at dead stop within the destination nebula arm’s cloud.
He found an asteroid field and met two training goals. He had his helmsmen, in turn, pull over an asteroid, land quickly and softly, lift off again, and do it again. He had them do it over and over, until they all did it to Kelly’s satisfaction.
The gunners practiced firing on small asteroids, from stationary positions and while moving. Kelly timed all gunners to see how quickly they dispatched the targets, until he was satisfied with their performance. He then picked larger targets and had the nose gunners fly and point the ship onto the targets, then fire on targets with just the nose rail guns and with the combined nose guns and turrets locked forward. He didn’t forget the tail guns, designating targets for the tail gunner to take out.
He practiced with the tractor beams to see how big an asteroid they could pick up. He moved asteroids around and even engaged in asteroid bowling. The Vigilant used it against the K’Rang during the New Alexandria campaign, so Kelly didn’t feel guilty about having a little fun.
He taught his gunners the finer points of off-axis shooting, and had his nose gunners practice flying the ship and pivoting the ship away from the direction of travel, to engage targets parallel to their direction of travel. That was also a tactic used against the K’Rang. While it was mainly a fighter tactic, the Vigilant was nimble enough to accomplish it, too.
Kelly tested out the galley’s ability to prepare food during combat conditions by giving them a specific menu to prepare while gunnery drills were being conducted. Cookie did a superb job, splitting the meal and cooking half in the traditional way and half in the replicator. He challenged Kelly to pick which was which. Kelly couldn’t tell the difference.
Kelly conducted a mass casualty drill to test Doc Kumar’s ability to function in a combat setting. He had coordinated with the Antares Base Hospital for combat casualty symptoms and pinned them to random crewmembers. Kelly sent two or three crew at a time to sickbay with wounds or burns or radiation sickness. Rajna came through professionally and calmly, correctly diagnosing, triaging, and treating each case.
The Vigilant was ready for combat two days ahead of schedule. Kelly would work out any other issues on the transit to their patrol zone. He prepared to give the crew two days liberty in appreciation for a job well done.
Kelly felt LTJG Cortez would quickly grow into the job as XO. Her experience in the repair and refit directorate gave her a good feel for the ship. He got a kick out of her shaking as she took over the helm position, but settling down as she got a feel for the ship. She had good intuition, like Kelly, and always seemed to be in the right place at the right time to stop potential problems before they occurred. She was a far better cook than Kelly was. Best of all, she relieved Kelly of a ton of extra duties. Kelly was a happy captain.
* * * * *
Kelly called LTJG Cortez into his office for “the talk.” Kelly had gotten it twice, once as a fighter pilot and once as XO of the Vigilant. He thought he had it memorized by now. It was Connie’s turn. He called her into his ready room and had her sit down. He noticed she was sitting at attention and he told her to relax.
“I want to tell you a little bit about why we’re out here. I know it’s not taught well enough in the Academy. It’s important to know why you may be asked to put your life on the line way out where the stars are few and far between.”
“I know you learned about the Milky Way in Astrography. I’ll bring you up to date, but first let me cover a little history. You know the Milky Way is a bar spiral galaxy and Earth’s solar system is in a small spiral off of the nuclear center of the galaxy, not one of the bigger spirals further outward. Even though our galaxy is called the
Milky Way because of the apparent cloud of stars as seen from Earth, there are vast distances between the stars. These areas we call dark space. This is where we Scouts operate best.”
“I’m sure you learned about the first galactic human settlements over a century ago. When our first long-range probes and scouts went out, they found our little corner of the galaxy was largely unpopulated and mostly devoid of life. We quickly populated human settlements on the few habitable planets in this part of the galaxy. Huge settlement ships were built and they carried mankind out into the far reaches of space. We populated the 10 closest worlds first and spread out from there. Those first settlers had it hard, and we lost a lot of good people. Life on the frontier before we came up with reliable long distance FTL communications 25 years ago was rough. There are now over 150 human-inhabited worlds and moons in this arm of the Milky Way.”
It wasn’t until our scouts pressed further outspiral, away from the core of the Milky Way, that we ran into the Moosilian Empire. The Moose were fairly benevolent and we signed the First Intragalactic Treaty with them in 2133. We agreed to the establishment of a buffer zone between our races. Trade is allowed and encouraged, but they don’t want us moving any excess population in there. Our patrol forces on the frontier guarantee we don’t trod in each other’s space. It’s held up pretty well.”
“Our scouts surveying inspiral found a similar situation. Life is not as common as most early philosophers, authors, and scientist expected. One scout pushing out further inspiral on a deep-space patrol found a curious artifact floating in open space. It was a spinning, glowing triangular dipyramid. They scanned it from all sides, recorded all they could, and would have brought it back to the nearest star base if it hadn’t been twice the size of their ship. After a great deal of study, the best human brains determined it was a no trespassing sign. The scouts had run into the frontier of the K’Rang Empire.”