Vanguard Galaxy

by Mars Dorian

  Rosco hated that counter.

  The CEO eased up. “Don’t worry, auntie Lo-Skova has you covered.”

  She flashed the media units with her studied permanent grin. “Ladies, gents, and bots, it was a pleasure talking to you. Please stay around for my big press conference, starting at seventeen thirty hours local Central Ares Time. But for now, I have to introduce our captain to the team and technology.”

  She air-kissed the media units goodbye and then ushered Rosco into the main entrance of the facility complex. The giant gate closed behind them.

  Silence returned.

  “You’re a real media whore, aren’t you?” Rosco said.

  Lo-Skova hesitated. “It’s part of the job. The last Daystellar CEO carried the charisma of a shriveled meatball. The Martian Chronicles once created a satirical competition between Daystellar’s executive officer and a faux potato.”

  Lo-Skova took a deep breath. “The potato won by twenty charisma points.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Indeed. Granted, it was a satirical feed, but the results stuck. Even though we employ more than a million people on five planets, the CEO’s still the only face the public knows. Thank tech I’m not just a looker, but also forward-thinking.”

  Lo-Skova played her favorite role in her favorite movie—‘Lo-Skova’, directed by super-star director Lo-Skova, produced by Lo-Skova, shown in a holo-room full of Lo-Skova fans.

  Rosco closed his eyes and said, “Well, wake me up when you’re done creaming your ego. I’d like to know more about my crew.”

  The CEO’s smile stunned. The woman, being not only the wealthiest but also the most prominent figure of the corporation, was clearly not used to getting called out.

  Tough luck.

  Rosco was 150% Martian attitude.

  The grin found its way into Lo-Skova’s plasto-face.

  “I’d love to.”

  18

  They strolled through the facility’s hallways—white, curved corridors with full length windows, and rails on the ceiling used by cargo-carrying droids—where bots and docs buzzed around. Lo-Skova stopped near a lab wall and pointed through the glass. Rosco saw a two-meter giant of a man in full battle gear sprinting through an obstacle course and firing high-velocity rounds at autonomous crash-test dummies. The soldier was a one-man army mowing down every bot crossing his path.

  “So that’s what scientists really do when no one’s watching,” Rosco said.

  Lo-Skova chuckled. “Haha, that’s Yeltzin Stabovsky. He’s the only non-scientific member on the ship besides you. Yeltzin used to be a ground-pounder for Stryker Solutions.”

  The CEO focused on Rosco. “I know this is a science mission, but we both know space is a hostile place. Mercs, syndicates, and other sickos swarm the cosmos. It pays to have a warrior on board.”

  “Hey, you don’t see me complaining; the more military, the better.”

  “Splendid.”

  Lo-Skova took Rosco to the next lab where a woman of Asian descent projected some kind of symbols onto the surroundings using holo-tech. She wore a tight tech suit and applied different cybernetics for whatever she was working on.

  “That’s Doctor Ming Brakemoto, your xenologist and decryptor. She speaks a hundred and fifty-five languages, five-hundred dialects, and is a brilliant interpreter. She can also encrypt and decrypt complex code patterns. She’ll be the mediator if the alien race is capable of interspecies communication,” Lo-Skova said.

  “Always a plus.”

  Ming wiped 3D symbols into the air and shone in her skintight armor. She seemed oblivious to the middle-aged men ogling her. Despite the elegance of her movements, Rosco recognized the harshness. “Does she have a military background?”

  “She was bred on the Moon and served a tech division of ICED, which means she went through similar Basic training as you.”

  “Nice. ICED sucks wormholes, but their education is still top-notch. Everyone who went through one of their military academies is set for space.”

  Especially when graduating from MAME, the mother of all military educational institutions.

  “I agree,” Lo-Skova said before walking to the other side of the corridor where another lab harbored.

  “And last, but definitely not least, Ekström. He’s an original human from Earth and a brilliant cyber-engineer. He’ll be responsible for all of your tech needs onboard. Droids, arms, even ship maintenance—he’s the techie to go to.”

  Rosco smiled while watching the red-haired engineer fumbling with a pile of electronic objects. The man, barely into his thirties, stared at his mechanical toys and seemed to talk to its parts. His mind seemed to disappear into the activity.

  “Civilian nerds… Can’t live without them.”

  Lo-Skova cleared her throat. “There’s one small issue with the engineer. Have you ever heard of NPD?”

  “Sounds like an STD.”

  “It stands for Narnite Personality Disorder. A new condition that has emerged with the first generation of humans growing up with implanted nano-technology. I’ll spare you the politically correct symptomatic terms—they’re basically tech geniuses but cretins when it comes to social dynamics. In ancient Earth times, they were called schizoid.”

  “So?”

  “Ekström is most effective when left alone in the ship’s R and D lab doing tech work. When it comes to team conversation and diplomacy, he’d do better being locked away.”

  Rosco grinned. “Keeping civilians away from military matters is a passion of mine.”

  “I’m glad we have an understanding.”

  Lo-Skova clapped her slender hands. “Well, that concludes three quarters of your team. We have one last member, but that’s going to be a little surprise.”

  Rosco rolled his eyes and made sure the CEO saw his passive-aggressive gesture. “Please, no surprises. This isn’t an offspring’s birthday.”

  “Speaking of which, the best present awaits you. Please follow me into the hangar.”

  Lo-Skova summoned a white porter unit which halted half a meter away from them. The flat vehicle sported space for four people, or two fat ones.

  “As a captain, you must be a fan of spaceships.”

  All men in the services were. Flying state-of-the-art ships was one of the biggest joys of Rosco’s space career.

  “Well, Captain Tellride,” Lo-Skova said with a teasing voice, “you’re about to get your mind blown.”

  “I have to warn you, I’ve seen massive flagships in my life cycle.”

  Lo-Skova winked. “Size doesn’t matter, Captain. Technology does.”

  And with that, the two arrived at the hangar hall of the facility. Rosco expected a lot, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw…

  19

  It looked like an oversized tactical knife, positioned horizontally over the ground. Clamper units extracted from the hangar floor plates and connected with the anchor points of the vessel. A grey-white hull wrapped the ship, giving it a slick and aerodynamic look. A ring was built around the body that appeared to be a frame mount to provide 360 degrees weapon reach. Rosco couldn’t detect any solar radiation shielding. Size-wise, it must have been a light D-class freighter. Stylish to say the least, but Rosco wondered about the lack of windows. He couldn’t make out even a single slit.

  Lo-Skova seemed to read his mind. “Ah, that’s the revolution. You can say this ship has no windows. But you could also say the entire ship is a window.”

  “Huh?”

  Lo-Skova sounded like an unassigned astro-philosopher. “Let me show you.”

  They walked up the ramp leading to the rear hatch.

  “This ship is a biomorphic vessel. Every component, such as the turrets, rocket pods, and the cargo storage, are called membranes. They’re interconnected with the central hub of the ship which is the command bridge.”

  A hatch opened up. The interior design looked like artificial organic matter; a minimalist design with every shape seamlessly melting into each oth
er.

  Lo-Skova continued. “You see, the problem with traditional ships is their design. The commando bridge is usually placed at the front or the top, with hull shielding minimized to provide visual oversight. Needless to say, the commando bridge used to be the most dangerous place of a space ship. Paradoxically, it was also the place where the most important members of the crew resided.”

  She paused.

  “With the Vanguard, the bridge is hidden in the safest place of the ship… its very center. Every hull piece is made of a special adaptable alloy composite with see-through capabilities. This remarkable transparent feature was achieved by intense soft X-ray photo ionization. It’s a Daystellar trademark.”

  Lo-Skova was right.

  With a single command, the walls and halls of the ship became semi-transparent. Rosco could see the entire surrounding hangar, including the droids and personnel walking around. On top of that, he noticed a fine circuit pattern running through the hull. Technical veins?

  “This is a highly-sensitive detection system. Every damage or malfunction—whether it is from debris or projectile-impact—will be registered down to the nano-millimeter. This ship carries millions of photon-sensitive nanoplates.”

  Lo-Skova produced a bolt from her pocket and threw it against the corridor’s wall. A faint ripple effect occurred followed by a status window depicting the size of the object, its weight, and impact velocity.

  “If a pebble bounces off the ship, the sensors will register it.” She grinned. “And more importantly, if you’re under fire, the smart hull will decipher the kind of incoming projectile, its potential danger, and the best way to deal with it. This ship is not a stupid vessel; it’s a sentient and obedient life form made out of material.”

  “Sounds impressive.”

  Really did. This tech was superior to every vessel in the ICED fleet, at least where the optical sensors and detection systems were concerned.

  “Who is supposed to fly it?”

  “That would be me, sir.”

  A humanoid figure entered the bridge. At first, she looked like an advanced female model bot. Her tech tunic wrapped her perfect body like second skin. Circuit lines ran through her surface in an electronic pattern of nodes and tiny sockets placed around the important spots on the body. Her eyes glowed emerald green. She had no hair, but wore black dots that reminded him of a shaven head. Despite her android features, she looked unapologetically female.

  She was a Newtype.

  Technically humanoid, but more android than anything human Rosco had ever met.

  “Oh, what a coincidence,” Lo-Skova said with fake surprise, “Captain, meet your final crew member, the wonderful eQuip.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, sir,” the Newtype said. She reached out her hand which Rosco shook promptly. “You can close your mouth now, Captain.”

  “Haven’t seen your kind on Mars for a long time.”

  Lo-Skova chimed in. “Her upgraded neo-cortex is wirelessly linked to the central command system of this ship. eQuip will act as your XO user interface, the direct link between captain and ship. While ICED needs dozens of specialized pilots to control a single cruiser, we only need eQuip.”

  Rosco longed for the right words. It was rare for him to be speechless, but this ship’s tech was unlike everything he had ever seen before. He stroked his fingers along the semi-transparent wall and felt a pleasant jolt. His body wanted to ride this baby badly.

  The ship, not the Newtype.

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  eQuip tilted her puppet-like head. “Just say ‘ready for take-off, crew’.”

  Rosco liked her already. Too bad he had to take the other carbon-based beings onboard. He addressed Lo-Skova, who was busy grinning her face off.

  “When can we launch?”

  20

  “In five hours and thirty-two minutes,” Lo-Skova said.

  That was earlier than expected. Rosco thought he would have a few sols of preparation. The CEO must have seen his bewilderment. “I know this sounds hasty, but we’re potentially dealing with an unknown alien life form. Every sol we waste is an opportunity for the competition to reach the planet before we do.”

  Rosco never thought about that; probably because he didn’t know many entities who had the money and the tech to reach the rim. “Who’s your competition?”

  Lo-Skova stretched her smile. “Every entity with access to a TemCom Drive.”

  She clapped her hands—her go-to gesture when making a point. “Listen, I have to get ready for the press conference. eQuip will guide you to the commons where you can raid the buffet and talk to your team members. They should be finished with their preparation by now.”

  “Optimal.”

  Lo-Skova patted his shoulder and jogged down the ramp leading back to the hangar ground. Rosco stayed one more minute inside the Vanguard and marveled at the construction. “How much did this baby cost?”

  eQuip waited patiently next to him. “It’s confidential information, but some tongues claim the sum is in the upper eight digit range.”

  Rosco whistled. “Quite a fortune for a little PR, eh?”

  “Progress knows no price.”

  “I bet your shareholders would disagree.”

  eQuip smiled as she stretched her elegant arm along the corridor. “Shall we go? I bet the rest of the team is dying to meet you.”

  “Sure.”

  They exited the spacecraft and took the porter, which was parked next to a couple of crates. eQuip steered it without using her hands and located the entrance to the commons section, a few corridors away from the hangar. The canteen area was at least half the size of the hangar. Hundreds of people in Daystellar branded gear stood in line in front of the showcase, or sat busily munching their colorful goodness. eQuip guided Rosco through the masses. “Here are your new comrades.”

  She pointed toward the fifth row. An elongated steel table with only three people around—the individuals Rosco had seen in the labs before. He approached them with the tray in his hands and said, “Greetings. I’m Rosco Tellride, your new captain.”

  The soldier, Yeltzin Stabovsky, stood up and saluted straight away. Rosco recognized Sino-Russian facial features, such as the big, flat nose protruding from the pancake face like a canyon boulder.

  “A pleasure to serve you, sir; I’ve heard about your asteroid assault.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  The xenologist doctor ignored Rosco and fumbled with the colorful green contents of her plate. And the engineer with the NPD? He fixed his eyes on some distant spot and seemed absent. Not the reaction Rosco had expected. “You guys do understand chain of command, right?”

  Ming Brakemoto looked up from her vegetable blocks. “Technically speaking, we’re still civilians since duty starts the second we board the ship together. But I guess a captain who blows up refineries and ignores his superior’s orders isn’t keen on following protocols.”

  There was no vitriol in her voice. Her intonation sounded as flat as a first generation retro-bot, but the statement threw Rosco off. He placed the tray on the table and sat next to the soldier who gave him the best welcome so far. “Where did you serve?”

  “Fifty-fifth security division of the Stryker Solution’s infantry, sir. I was stationed on the Moon, Mars of course, and some space stations.”

  Sounded impressive; except no action ever happened there, which made Rosco wonder if the soldier had ever seen direct action apart from the mandatory VR simulations. Rosco pierced the bacon piece with his tri-fork and observed his new crew. Ming seemed more interested in the color pattern of her broccoli piece than in her new captain. But since this was still the first contact, Rosco decided to play it smooth. “I’ve watched you in that lab.”

  She looked at him with half-closed eyes. “A new stalker, nice.”

  “No. I mean, I watched you projecting those strange symbols into the air. What was that about?”

  “I was deciphering a new interstellar code Dayste
llar came up with. They’re testing a new kind of decryption language and wanted input from a revered doctor.”

  She apparently knew over a hundred and fifty languages, but ‘modesty’ wasn’t part of her vocabulary. Well, as long as she followed his orders, he didn’t care about her quirks.

  Rosco’s glance traveled to Ming’s neighbor, Ekström. The red-haired man ignored his food plate and still behaved as if he was stuck in the wrong dimension. “What’s up with our tech genius?”

  Ming spoke for the engineer. “I think he’s creating a new AI sub-routine for his new set of drones.”

  “Right now?”

  Ming waved her left hand in front of the engineer’s face. He didn’t even blink once. “Maybe he’s just tripping.”

  “Good to know,” Rosco said and picked up his next protein piece.

  Lo-Skova was right when she said this team was special. Rosco just hoped it wasn’t ‘special’ special. He devoured half of his plate before picking up the conversation again. “So, is everyone looking forward to the pioneering operation?”

  The soldier scratched his shortly-trimmed head and sighed. Ming shrugged. “I hope the alien’s intellect is at least on our level. I don’t want to communicate with a primordial bacteria infestation.”

  “Fair enough,” Rosco said.

  “I hope it’s not going to be aggressive. I’d hate to deal with a violent life form,” said the elite soldier with the build of an organic mountain.

  Rosco scratched his neck and finished his meal when the engineer spoke for the first time. “Aliens up my anus. Drones for Jones, it’s the tech I track.”

  Ekström looked at the captain with beaming eyes.

  Silence settled in.

  The soldier cleared his throat, eQuip seemed offline since the beginning of the conversation, and Ming Brakemoto started investigating her last broccoli piece again. Rosco took a deep breath and sank his glance into the empty plate. For the first time in his life, he experienced a feeling so rare he had to remember its name…

  Worry.

  21