by Ryk Brown
“If the targets were traveling at subluminal speeds, we could easily intercept them while they were still some distance away from their final target and engage them.”
“Nice,” Josh said.
“There was nothing ‘nice’ about such engagements, Josh,” Tug corrected. “There is very little separating us from the icy vacuum of space in this interceptor, and our suits would only keep us alive for a few hours at best. At the distances from base these ships would operate, rescue was extremely unlikely. You were more likely to get picked up by the enemy, or picked off by the opponent that bested you.”
Josh thought about that for a moment before speaking. “So now what?” he finally asked.
“Set a course for the asteroid base. When you are ready, engage at fifty percent thrust.”
“Copy that.” Josh fidgeted with the navigation computer, as he figured out how to plot a course. After a few moments, he had it figured out. “Okay, course plotted and laid in,” Josh announced. “Coming to new heading.” Josh turned the interceptor slightly to starboard, rolling the ship over as he did so in order to put the planet beside him. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but using the Darvano system’s ecliptic helped him keep his orientation. After changing his artificial horizon to use that same ecliptic as its reference, he checked that the ship was on course before engaging the auto-flight system. “Auto-flight locked on course for Karuzara,” he announced.
“For what?” Tug inquired.
“Well, you’ve got to call it something,” Josh insisted. “What were you going to call it, Rebel Rock?”
Tug laughed. “Karuzara it is, then.”
“Throttling up,” Josh announced as he inched the throttles forward again.
* * *
Commander Taylor sat next to Chief Montrose at the conference table in one of the hospital’s many meeting rooms. As the Aurora’s executive officer, she had insisted on conducting the final interviews of all the prospective candidates volunteering for duty aboard her ship. It was a long and painstaking process which tired her out more than she would have thought, as she was not yet fully recovered from the critical injuries she had sustained during the battle against the Yamaro. Had it not been for Chief Montrose, who had convinced the commander’s physicians to allow them to conduct the interviews in the hospital where Cameron’s condition could be monitored, she would not have been able to participate in the selection.
Cameron had insisted on having a uniform brought down to her so that she could present herself properly during the interviews. The last thing she wanted was for people she would eventually command to see her in a hospital robe looking weak and frail. Despite the fact that she was recovering nicely, she was still many weeks away from returning to full active duty.
Nathan had resisted her participation, mainly because he feared that she would over exert herself and delay her recovery. He wanted to be sure that she was well enough to oversee training of the new crew. In the end, her desire to make sure the best crew was selected from the start had won—that and her stubborn side, to which Nathan still had the bad habit of yielding.
“That makes fifty interviews on this day,” Chief Montrose stated in less than perfect Angla.
“Today,” Cameron corrected, “the expression is today not on this day."
“Too-day,” the Chief repeated. “That makes fifty interviews too-day,” he repeated, more to himself than to Cameron.
“Let’s do one more.”
“It is late,” the chief protested. “You now should rest.”
“Don’t ever tell me to rest, Chief,” she warned. “Besides, I hate even numbers. Let’s interview one more before we call it quits for the day.”
“As you wish, Commander,” the chief acquiesced. “I will carry you back to room when you are not conscious,” he added with a laugh as he activated his comm-set and called for another volunteer.
Cameron leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps the chief was right; she was tired. In addition, she was lightheaded and at times—despite assurances by the Corinairan doctors that at this stage of her recuperation it was highly unlikely—she felt as if she could feel the nanites inside her, scurrying about mending her insides. It was just a vague tingling sensation, intermittent at most but annoying nonetheless. It was only the second day of interviews and, by her calculations, they had at least a month’s worth of primary and secondary interviews before they whittled the thousands of applicants down to a full crew of three hundred. Lieutenant Commander Nash would conduct another set of interviews after that, along with Sergeant Weatherly and members of the Corinari, in order to select another hundred men to serve as ground assault force. They had no plans to use such a force as of yet, but it was agreed that it would be best to have one ready, just in case.
Cameron’s eyes popped open when she heard the door open. A confident and rather distinguished looking man of average height and build entered the room. His hair was dark and full with graying at the temples and streaks of the same throughout. He had the same piercing confidence that she had always seen in Captain Roberts, the Aurora’s original captain. In fact, in many ways his appearance reminded her of the captain, although this man lacked the contented look that had made Captain Roberts so approachable as a commanding officer. This man appeared far more serious, more like Commander Montero, her predecessor.
He walked the short distance from the doorway to the table, extending his hand to Commander Taylor. “Thank you for this opportunity, miss.”
“In our military, an officer is referred to as ‘sir’, regardless of gender.”
“A sensible tradition,” the man agreed in perfect Angla. “However, as I am not yet in your service, Corinairan custom dictates that I refer to you as ‘miss’ or ‘ma’am’. If selected, I will be more than happy to follow your fine traditions.”
Cameron released his hand, satisfied with his answer, as it was both honest and respectful. “I’m Commander Taylor, the Aurora’s Executive Officer. This is Chief Montrose of the Corinari.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” the man offered graciously. “My name is Dumar. Travon Dumar.”
Chapter Three
Nathan sat in the command chair at the center of the Aurora’s bridge, watching as Josh and Loki performed the tasks that he and Cameron had been responsible for only a few weeks ago. It still felt unusual to be watching someone else perform his old job, especially from the command chair. He had only been the ship’s official pilot for about a week, and had only actually flown her for one mission—technically it was only half a mission—before circumstances threw him into his new role as de facto captain of the Aurora and the figurehead of an interstellar revolution. As a student of history, Nathan had read of many men and women who had not set out to become leaders. They too had been thrown into dire situations, some of which did not go well. He only hoped that he did not end up as one of history’s greatest failures.
He rose and slowly walked the perimeter of the bridge, checking on the work being performed by what were mostly Corinairan technicians. Lieutenant Commander Kamenetskiy, his chief engineer and friend, had formed work teams that consisted of four Corinairan technicians and one member of the Aurora’s crew in order to help the Corinairans better understand the systems they were attempting to repair. In many cases, the crewmen had little to no training on the particular system being repaired, but at the very least they could translate any labels or manuals relating to the systems themselves. That in itself made it easier for the Corinairans to do their work. When all else failed—which it often did—they could always call Vladimir.
The damaged consoles on the starboard side of the ship were slowly being rebuilt. The two communications stations at the rear of the bridge would take considerably longer, as they had been more heavily damaged by electrical fires within. For now, they were forced to operate without a dedicated electronic countermeasures operator or a sensor operator. The few electronic countermeasures systems that still f
unctioned could be handled from the tactical station behind the command chair, and the role of sensor operator had been assumed by Ensign Yosef, the Aurora’s only science officer. She had performed the role admirably over the last few weeks, and Nathan knew she was dying to get back to her normal duties. Unfortunately, it would be several weeks before that might happen, if at all.
After the initial damage to the bridge, communications had been transferred to the port-side auxiliary console. After their acting comm-officer had been executed by Captain de Winter during the attempted siege of the Aurora, the Volonese translator, Naralena, who had been stranded on board since their hasty departure from Haven, had kindly offered to assume the role. Since she already knew how to speak many of the native languages of the region, including both Takaran and Corinairan, she seemed a natural choice. She had picked up the use of the comm-systems easily enough and was already making herself at home in her new role, although she was still learning fleet communications procedures.
“Captain,” Naralena called, “Lieutenant Commander Nash reports that the Prime Minister and his party have finished their tour and are on their way to the bridge now, sir.”
Nathan checked his watch. “Two hours. That was a long tour. Very well, alert the bridge guard detail.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir,” the crewman leading the repair team working on the starboard consoles began, “should we break for now and come back afterward?”
“Thank you, no, Ensign,” the captain answered. “Carry on with your repairs.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nathan walked over to the aft starboard console, the one they referred to as ‘jump control’ since Abby still controlled the process from that station. “Are we ready, Doctor?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“How are those variances?”
“Worrisome, but not enough to delay testing. I was planning to jump a relatively short distance and to a wide open area, so I do not anticipate any problems.”
Nathan smiled at her comment. “I don’t believe we anticipated any of the problems that we’ve encountered thus far,” he reminded her. She did not answer, only nodded her head in agreement.
Nathan moved back down to the helm, standing between Josh to his right and Loki to his left. “Josh, how are we looking?”
“All systems show ready to go, Captain,” Josh answered.
Nathan’s expression changed as a thought occurred to him. “Josh, what’s your last name?”
“My last name?” Josh asked, not sure he understood the captain’s question.
“Your family name,” Nathan explained, “the one you were born with. For example, my family name is Scott, as in Nathan Scott.”
“Oh, you mean my surname,” Josh realized. “I’m not sure what my father’s surname was, as my mum passed before I was old enough to be curious about such things. But her surname was Hayes. I guess I could use that one.”
“Very well, Joshua Hayes it is.” Nathan turned to Loki. “And you?”
“Sheehan, sir. Loki Sheehan.”
“Captain, why do I need a last name?” Josh asked.
“I need something to call you by,” Nathan explained. “I can’t call you Josh, as it wouldn’t be proper, especially in front of the Prime Minister and his party. And I can’t call you by your rank because you don’t have one. So I’ll call you by your surname, Mister Hayes.”
“If you say so, Captain,” Josh agreed. “I just hope I can remember that you’re talking to me,” he added under his breath as the captain turned and headed toward the back of the bridge.
A few moments later, Jessica entered the bridge from the port entrance with the Prime Minister, his translator Mister Briden, a Corinari general, and a few members of the general’s staff. Behind them was a team of four armed Corinari guards. Nathan wasn’t sure if they were personal guards of the Corinairan party or Corinari guards working as Aurora security personnel. Jessica had ordered that all unassigned visitors were to be escorted by an armed squad, regardless of their identity. After nearly losing the Aurora to sloppy security procedures and insufficient security staff, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“And this, gentlemen, is the bridge,” Jessica announced to the entourage as they followed her onto the bridge. Mister Briden interpreted for the Prime Minister as well as the general and the members of his staff.
“Such as it is,” Nathan added. “Good to see you again, gentlemen.”
“The Prime Minister is excited to finally witness firsthand the miraculous ability of your ship to jump between the stars,” Mister Briden interpreted.
“Well, I’m afraid we won’t be jumping quite that far this time,” Nathan explained. “Until we are sure that the emitters are fully calibrated, we don’t want to risk anything more than a short hop. But the effect will be the same.”
“Where will we be ‘hopping’ to?” Mister Briden asked.
“To a point about two light hours away,” Nathan explained, glancing at Abby as she looked his way. “The point is just above your ecliptic in order to stay away from any orbital debris—another precaution until we are sure everything is working properly.”
“Wonderful,” Mister Briden interpreted without the same enthusiasm as was expressed by the Prime Minister himself.
“If you’ll give us a few minutes to prepare. Lieutenant Commander, maybe you can show them around the bridge while we prepare to get underway?”
“Of course, sir,” Jessica responded. “Gentlemen, perhaps you’d like to see jump control?” Jessica led the party toward Abby at the aft-most starboard console while Nathan stepped over to Naralena.
“Let all hands know we’re about to get underway,” Nathan told her as he continued around and back down to the helm. “Gentlemen, let’s review our flight plan.”
“We take her out slow and easy, break orbit, and put her on the course and speed Doctor Sorenson gave us,” Josh recounted. “Then it’s hands off until she jumps us. After that, we make a slow, easy turn and put her back on a reciprocal heading home, and she jumps us back again. After that, we settle back into orbit.”
“No problem, Captain,” Loki assured him under his breath. “We’ve got this.”
Nathan looked at the two young pilots that only weeks ago had been flying a rickety old harvesting spacecraft around the rings of Haven. They had spent every spare moment in the very same simulator Nathan and Cameron had first practiced in a month earlier. Unlike them, Josh and Loki did not have the benefit of years of flight training at the Fleet Academy back on Earth. Then again, he and Cameron didn’t have the years of actual spaceflight experience that Josh and Loki had. Furthermore, Josh and Loki had first flown the Aurora under fire and had proven their worthiness; of that he had no doubt. Still, Nathan couldn’t seem to let go of all the things that could go wrong. Vladimir had assured him that the ship’s propulsion and maneuvering were working properly, and Abby was confident that the jump drive was equally ready.
Nathan wondered if Captain Roberts had experienced similar misgivings the first time he and Cameron had taken the Aurora out of the Orbital Assembly Platform on her first test flight. Had he been worried that something would go wrong? Had he been worried that his new pilot and navigator would make a mistake and send them hurtling into the system’s sun? He had certainly had enough reason to be concerned, considering all the problems that Nathan and Cameron had experienced trying to work together.
As Naralena instructed the entire ship to prepare to get underway, Nathan tried to console himself in the knowledge that nothing had gone wrong with his first flight. He and Cameron had performed their duties correctly. Then he remembered that despite having done everything correctly, the unforeseen events that had followed had gotten them into this mess. Suddenly, he felt nervous once again.
“We’re ready whenever you are, Captain,” Josh urged.
“Right.” Nathan straightened up and turned around to face his guests. “Gentlemen, we’re about to get underway.”
Nathan took his seat in the command chair at the center of the bridge. The chair was on a slightly raised platform and was located directly under the dome-shaped main view screen that encircled the front section of the bridge in a quarter sphere. The effect was like sitting in a glass dome, looking forward, upward, and to either side of the ship. At first, Nathan had found the view hypnotizing, but recently he had begun to wonder if it wasn’t more distracting than anything else. The Aurora was flown by looking at data displays and graphical interfaces, not by looking out the front window like when driving a car.
At the moment, their visitors also found the view impressive. The Aurora’s current attitude had the planet of Corinair above them. Since their topside was facing the planet, it gave their guests a wonderful view of their world as it hovered above their heads. As a space-faring civilization themselves, it was probably not the first time they had seen their world from orbit. However, it might have been the first time they had seen it in such fashion, and the effect it was having on them was obvious. The panoramic view gave you a real sense of being out there, in the vacuum of space. It was a sensation that mere display screens could not convey.
“Mister Hayes, are all systems ready for departure?” Nathan asked. He already knew the answer, but decided to run down the list as a show for their visitors.
“Yes, sir. Maneuvering and propulsion are online,” Josh reported.
“Mister Sheehan?”
“Navigational systems are online as well, Captain,” Loki answered.
“Ensign Yosef?” Nathan inquired, turning toward the sensor operator to the left of Loki’s navigation console.
“All sensor packages are operational, sir.”
“Comms?”
“All departments report ready for departure, Captain,” Naralena reported.
“Tactical?”
“All contacts are identified and are being tracked, sir,” Jessica reported. “The threat board is clear.”
“Doctor?”