by Chris Hechtl
A jump point was a spherical safe zone mapped out for ships to enter or exit from hyperspace. There it was known to be clear of obstructions, though on occasion orbital mechanics would have an object like a comet or asteroid pass through. Spacers tended to clear the space lane to make it safe for themselves and others who followed in their wake.
Outside that safe area was questionable; a spacer couldn't clear the entire outer system after all. But many ships had made a jump exit into space around a star system without such comfort and security. It was a hazard, but the risk was sometimes worth the reward.
Those that didn't know what was coming, new systems... He frowned, thoughts trailing off for a moment as they hit an old but still sore spot in his psyche. His daughter had done it for years before her exploration ship had been lost. His son had presumably done it as well.
It was one problem of defending a star system, why they emphasized mobile defensive platforms over orbital forts. Forts were usually fixed defensive structures, with fixed ranges.
He personally didn't like forts; they tied too much fighting power into one big target. They took thousands of people to crew one, and they took massive resources to build and maintain. Sure they could mount massive energy budgets, armor, shields, and weapons, but the same could be mounted in multiple hulls, which could then be scattered over a wide area. That gave you platform redundancy through quantity not just quality. Besides, they could move to the location of an enemy force far easier than a fort could.
Right now the argument was moot, he thought. Spacers needed the safety of jumping into a known safe zone, so they could be mined or forted up; at least for now.
“You don't often think of your family; of your daughter. Why is that?” Sprite asked softly.
“Reading my mind again?” he asked.
“Part of the job.”
“And being a sounding board. I get that,” he said, adjusting their course with fine precision. “It's... it's hard to live with the loss of a loved one. You have memories of them, fond, angry; it's all jumbled sometimes. Things you wished you had done, said...”
“When Firefly asked you about your daughter...”
“He knew she was dead. I knew she was dead.”
“But at the time Admiral...”
“I knew,” he said, not taking his eyes off their bearing. “Not as a parent, but as an officer. A parent can hold out hope against any rational assessment of the situation. As an officer; I can to some degree, but reality has to come in.”
“She was an explorer? She knew the risks?”
“Of course. I knew them too. So did her mother. Exploring another galaxy? Far from home...”
“Do you think she found the Xenos?”
“I have no clue. Maybe. We lack so much information about the final phases of the war. Just what the hell happened? We don't know. It's maddening. Did we win? Lose?”
“I'd say somewhere in between,” Sprite answered.
“True. Some have said there is no winning or losing in a war, just different shades of losing. I get that now. Pyrrhic victory.”
“Do you think we should have cut the bridges?”
“I... don't know. And don't ask me if I feel responsible for the gate. I don't know. I don't know if they had their own gates, I don't know if there was a natural one. No clue. They didn't use ours.”
“Except the one they managed to secure.”
“Yes, the Sigma gate. I know. I'm not sure why they didn't blow it right away. Did they think of the wasted cost involved? Balk at throwing away the investment? I mean... did they think it would cost too much? Or that we could retake it somehow?” He shook his head in frustration.
“Instead they fought a massive battle and blew it up.”
“At the cost of tens of thousands of lives; millions of tons of starships and dozens if not hundreds of AI. They uncovered systems to do it. But it didn't matter, the damage had been done.”
“Or the enemy had another gate.”
He nodded curtly. “Right.”
“So, you don't feel responsible, even a little for working on the wormholes and creating the gates?” Sprite probed cautiously.
Irons shook his head. He had been but a cog in the greater wheel when it came to implementing the gates. Sure, he'd overseen the engineering, but he knew a few other engineers that could have done it as well as him. They had worked out just fine for nearly twenty years, cutting transit time from one sector of the galaxy to another. But then someone had gotten it into their head to try to connect to nearby galaxies. “No. That's like asking Henry Ford if he felt bad over a drunk driver killing someone. Yes on one degree I suppose I should.”
“Admiral, do you remember the expression, scientists and engineers always wonder if they could and never question if they should?” Sprite asked.
“There is only so far I'll accept the sack cloth and ashes self masochism Sprite. It's done. I know that Eisenstein and others hated their contributions, and they died regretting the things they did, but once the genie is out of the bottle...” He shrugged. “I can't make people use a device how I think it should be used. That's not an excuse, that's an expression of reality. I can go Nobel's path, when he was labeled a warmonger for inventing dynamite he was so horrified he changed into a philanthropist.”
“Which benefited mankind.”
“And I bet if you go through all the other past scientific achievements, and the Nobel’s people received for them, you'd find all sorts of questionable things like the gates. Things that were intended to help civilization but instead were twisted for war. I'm not going to dwell on it. It is the past I can't change it. I'm going to move on,” he said grimly, settling himself and taking a deep cleansing breath before letting it out slowly.
“Forward thinking.”
“While keeping a healthy respect for the past. And try to appreciate efforts by you and others for reminding me to keep an eye on things like that.”
“Thank you.”
“Even when I wouldn't mind ringing a certain busy body AI's virtual neck for hitting a sour point in my rosy achievement list.”
“Just keeping you honest Admiral,” Sprite said.
“Sometimes I don't have the luxury of doubt. I have to make a decision and get it done. See it through,” the Admiral said, paraphrasing a lesson from officer's training.
“Correct.”
“And you knew that of course. Which meant all this was another psych test,” Irons exhaled noisily, realizing he'd been set up. “And another way of reminding me, what's done is done, we have to go on from here. Which is this,” he waved to the ship and their rapid approach to their emergent point.
“Again correct,” Sprite said. “As you said, we'll deal with it.”
“Hell yes we will. Preparing for emergence. Dropping to Alpha. Power at ninety percent.”
“No obstructions detected. Course adjusted, we are on track for projected emergent point.”
“Jump point Joker. Aye,” Irons replied. “Fuel reserves?”
“Sufficient for emergence and ten days in real space at ten percent power.”
“Crap,” Irons said softly. He'd cut it pretty close, perhaps too close. He'd banked on a couple grav waves to draw power from, but they had been frustratingly too far off course to utilize. Oh well. Again it was something that was behind them.
“Emergence in two minutes from mark. Mark,” Phoenix said. “Corona discharge from port stern drive pod.”
“Noted,” Irons replied. The pods on the port stern were going out of alignment. That was to be expected after constant use for such a long period of time without relief. He'd have to do a reassessment and realignment in subspace. AFTER they got the fuel situation sorted.
“Emergence in ten. Hyper drive is cycling down. We have cross over,” Phoenix reported as the ship flashed into subspace in a burst of light and static energy.
“Position?” Sprite asked, sounding a bit anxious.
Irons was keenly interested as well, but
well aware he had a duty to perform. He checked over the systems carefully. The hyperdrive was in safe mode, which was good. “No disharmonics detected. Energy shields are at ten percent. That is sufficient for particle shields. Discharge rate is tapering off. I wish we could have tapped it,” he sighed.
“Not happening,” Phoenix replied, sounding distracted. Irons looked to see the empty navigational station cycling through the sector star chart. “Spectral analysis of the local star is confirmed, we are in the Beta 100 omega system,” the AI announced, sounding smug.
“All right!” Sprite crowed.
The Admiral smiled and nodded. “Good work people. Well done.”
“And we didn't fall too far off the mark either. We are south and ten degrees east of the Hidoshi's World jump point. Off target by about a million kilometers.”
“Excellent,” the Admiral replied, smiling, so far so good. To have come so close to hitting the bull’s eye from thirty-one parsecs away was good. He'd pat himself on the back later though, he thought.
“About flipping time!” Sprite said, sounding happy. The Admiral glanced at her avatar on his HUD. She shrugged.
“Course?” the Admiral asked, returning his attention to the larger picture. He turned his head to view the navigational station. The system chart was up. Courses were projected on it, all to the two Jovians.
“Projected course will take a few more minutes Admiral. I want to get this right with the least amount of fuel used if you don't mind,” the AI reported.
“Understood and heartily agree,” Irons replied. He reached for the sensor controls.
“And no, you can't re-prioritize my sensors to scan the system or the gas giants. Passives only. Actives use too much power.”
Irons frowned. Sprite smothered a giggle. “I think he's serious.”
“I am serious. We are that low on fuel you know. Not fun.””
“Understood,” Irons replied. He looked at Sprite.
“I'll check the passives,” Sprite sighed.
“We still have the post exit hyperspace list to work through Admiral,” Phoenix reminded him after a quiet moment.
Irons flinched as if startled and then nodded. “On it,” he said, glad for the distraction.
<----*----*----*---->
It took a while, but Phoenix finally crept along a course the AI grudgingly approved of. They kept to passive scans, which was annoying, but at least it didn't announce their presence in the system. Still, it made the Admiral's neck hairs rise a bit, not knowing what was around them in any detail.
He also wasn't at all happy about running ballistic for the past two days. It did however conserve power. The slingshot around a rock two days from now would cut their transit time, but it was annoying to be so close to a rock and yet not be able to exploit it. According to their records it really was a rock, totally useless.
“Admiral, two derelicts detected in orbit of the third planet. Neither are active,” Phoenix reported.
“In orbit of the third planet?” Sprite asked, showing some interest. “Class?”
“Affirmative,” Phoenix replied, sending the AI and the Admiral his data feed. There were two metallic objects, both vaguely ship shape in orbit of the rocky planet. Both were dead in space, drifting and tumbling. From the look and estimated size of them they had to be medium freighter class. “At this range I can't get a better read on them, sorry.”
“And especially not with the soup around us. Nothing on neutrinos?” the Admiral asked. He frowned. They could do a search for a basic ship type in their registry but there really wasn't a point. They would no doubt only get a partial match; ships were extensively modified over the years, especially the past seven centuries.
“That is why I classified both ships as derelicts.”
“And we can't tell how long they have been there, or why they are there,” Sprite mused. “At least not from here. They could have been stuck in orbit there for days... or centuries.”
“True,” Irons replied. He like a lot of spacers had a thing about Dutchmans. “We can investigate after we get the fuel situation sorted out.”
“I'm not going anywhere until we do Admiral. I'm on fumes,” Phoenix said.
“Right,” Irons sighed, making a face. “ETA on the parts?”
“Three hours Admiral, the balloons will take some manhandling to get to my boat bay.”
“I know,” the Admiral grunted, shaking his head. He wasn't looking forward to moving the great big sacks through the tight quarters of the ship to the boat bay. “We can cut the gravity. That will make it easier to maneuver them.”
“Or more challenging. Easier to lift certainly,” the AI replied.
“True.”
“Saving power would be nice,” the AI said.
The Admiral eyed the AI avatar and then pursed his lips. “You know what, reduce power for the gravity systems by half. I can deal with it.”
“Are you certain sir?”
“Yes.”
“Okay...”
“And we're going to use the saved power to put the kitties to bed.”
“You mean stasis. Great,” Sprite said, making a face.
“I don't need them getting underfoot. And I don't need them clawing and peeing over my room right now. No thank you,” Irons replied in a carefully controlled voice.
“True,” Sprite replied with a hint of mirth. “Repairing your suit did keep Proteus busy for a minute or two.”
“Which was power we need to conserve. Besides, putting the fuzzballs to bed will save on food and life support as well.”
“And now that you've talked yourself into it?” Sprite asked, smiling at him.
He sighed and got up out of his chair. “Now I've got to go do it. Which will not be easy. Nor will your ribbing help.”
“I know, but it's more fun that way,” Sprite said as the Admiral made his way to his cabin.
He slowed enough to snort. He had to watch his pace, Phoenix had already reduced power to the gravity and he nearly rebounded off the ceiling as he walked. “Cute.”
Chapter 5
One of the things that sucked about the nearly empty system was the lack of options when it came to the available gas giants to mine. There were two, both Jovians, which meant a high radiation level. That sucked. The rest of the planets in the system, all two of them, were rocks. There was a reason the system was a crossroads and not inhabited.
The radiation though, that might be an issue. It didn't matter to Irons or Phoenix, both he and the ship could put up a particle shield, but the refinery platform couldn't handle a heavy load, which was an issue. It would have a very short shelf life and would be prone to errors like this one. He hadn't even gotten it fully deployed yet and it was giving him conniptions.
There were better designs for its electronics, specially hardened against radiation, with layers of shielding. There was even a design with its own shield generators. But those used material he didn't have available unfortunately. They were also a bit too large for the replicators he had on Phoenix.
The other issue was the radiation and high-density particles and micro-meteors in the system cut his sensor range and resolution down to under three hundred thousand kilometers. Phoenix was reliant on Lidar and that was giving the AI fits with all the material floating around.
The Admiral was starting to regret not going through Pyrax. If he'd gone through Gaston, it would have taken oh; six weeks back to that system, then another four to Pyrax. Cross that system and see what was going on, maybe put a helping word in to Logan, then another seven-week jump to Beta 101a. But he'd be on fumes, unless he tanked up in Pyrax. And he seriously didn't want to be on fumes in that system. If Sprite was right, the Horathian's were stacking up stuff to hit Pyrax there now. The Beta jump point to Pyrax was a rough one, but if the Horathian's had gotten wind of what had happened to their fleet by now... and had something positioned near enough... he winced.
Perhaps it would be safer for him to head to Hidoshi's World, or
up chain to Kathy's World. He frowned. No, Hidoshi's World was agrarian, and Kathy's World was an ice planet; again, nothing there for him. Protodon was agrarian, and there was little up there except Antigua. He didn't want to go crawling back there with his tail tucked between his legs. He needed options. Better options than the ones currently on the table. But first things first, he thought, snapping his mind back to the here and now.
Which was why he was puttering around here, drifting in space trying to get the balloon platform off.
<----*----*----*---->
In orbit of the gas giant Murphy reared its ugly head while deploying the gas giant refinery. The compact assembly of balloons, struts, chemical works and micro-fusion reactor was being hinky. First the routine checkup had thrown up a software flag. Sprite was on that. But then the booster had failed a check of its fuel injector. The Admiral had ordered it back flushed, but when that failed to solve the problem he had suited up and gone out to tear into it.
He was still outside the ship working on the platform and a sticky hinge when all hell broke loose.
“Admiral...” Phoenix said over the channel, noting an odd return on the lidar about three hundred kilometers out and closing at six hundred meters per second. There was a rock approaching, but the AI hadn't noted its course coming this close before now. The AI tracked its course; it would pass within ninety kilometers of the ship, within the ship's safety range.
That was in itself odd since the AI hadn't noted the rock on such a course prior to its taking up the present orbit around the gas giant. Phoenix ran a quick back track, but again it didn't make sense. The rock would have to have swung around two other rocks and not impacted them in order to come in on the course it was currently on.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” the AI said, sending its findings to Sprite. Sprite's attention was on the software repair, so she logged the data and continued on her current project.
Annoyed at the lack of interest, Phoenix ran a passive scan as it prepared to fire the RCS to move the ship to the safe one hundred kilometer range. There was something else, an energy trace off the port bow behind a moon. It was faint, but there. “Admiral, there is something going on here. As you like to say, something hinky.”