by Britt Ringel
Collingsworth gave a small wave toward the door. “Here we are, sir. Do you need someone to escort you to the dining hall tonight?”
“No, I’ll just have my datapad direct me,” replied Heskan. He flashed it near the wall panel, opening the airlock as Collingsworth strode away.
The retractable passageway connecting RT-17 and Anelace actually declined nearly twenty degrees. Using the handrail, Heskan walked somewhat awkwardly down toward his ship and he realized the navigator had not been joking about an atypical load. One hundred six meters long, just over eighteen meters at her beam and seventeen meters at her tallest point, Anelace was a far smaller load than the typical cargo designed for a commercial flatbed tug. The compact design of the Dagger class corvette made her sized purely for system commerce regulation and interdiction. Essentially, she was a traffic cop. Her meager armament consisted of one Kruger Mk 237 mass driver and four Lyle Dual GP pulse lasers. Not exactly toothless but nothing compared to the larger naval ships. I guess you could say she has baby teeth, Heskan thought. In truth, Anelace was never designed for real combat against a military foe. Her place was to regulate commerce, a world where her tiny armament made her look like a veritable dreadnaught compared to the unarmed civilian transports and freighters she policed. Her diminutive battery matched her armament’s range. Missiles, the weapons of choice in long-range naval combat, were a waste on her considering her mission. Besides, there was simply no room inside her small hull for a large missile magazine. Her armament isn’t here to blow freighters to atoms; it’s here to make sure they heave to when ordered.
Anelace’s defenses were on par with her offensive capability. Her Turner-made Advanced Integrated Projection Screen (AIPS) was essentially one amalgamated defensive shield that wrapped around the hull. This type of protection, completely inadequate for the larger Brevic naval ships, was simple in concept and design. Although not meant to withstand sustained combat, the singular screen would absorb anything a stray pirate pulse laser might dish out. Using the space-saving system also provided great efficiency as it required a minimal crew to operate and maintain it. Demanding even less maintenance than the AIPS, Anelace’s light duralloy armor offered minor, additional protection in the rare event she was caught with her shield regenerating.
What Anelace lacked in weapons and defenses, she more than made up for in propulsion. Boasting six Allison-Turner Type-22 drives, the corvette was blisteringly fast. Typical speeds of civilian system traffic varied between .1c and .2c. Specialized fast courier ships might push .25c but most could not maintain such speeds for more than a few hours. Anelace cruised easily at .25c and could sustain a sprint of .3c. When necessary, most Dagger class corvettes could even dash up to a third the speed of light for short periods. Further, the redundancy of six drives ensured a cruising speed of .25c even with one drive down. Powering these drives, the Kanata Split power plant offered the redundancy of two systems for the space of one.
Anelace also had excellent “eyesight.” Equipped with a Standard Naka-Fujita sensor suite and upgraded with the APG-85B BigEye Array, the fast ship rivaled the sensor capabilities of most destroyers in the navy. The SnapShot optical sensor that came standard on the Naka-Fujita suite provided Anelace with a nearly perfect optical image of a single target out to incredible distances. The BigEye Array enhanced that capability to include multiple targets with an even finer quality optical. She’s no bruiser but she can hunt and run better than anything she’ll be matched against, Heskan smiled as he reached the corvette’s airlock.
He flashed his datapad and thumbed the airlock wall panel. It hesitated just slightly and then answered with a bright green light. As the airlock door opened, Heskan took his first step aboard his first assigned command.
“Anelace arriving,” the ship’s computer announced over the main speakers of the ship. As was a custom for millennia, the ship captain’s arrival and departure were announced using the ship’s name. I bet that announcement put some people on the ship into motion, Heskan thought wryly. It’s not fair of me to come in without warning but Durmont or Anelace’s former commander should have given them a heads up. Of course, Anelace’s former commander departed a month ago and judging by my first impression of Durmont, I’d bet my arrival is a complete surprise to these people.
He had never stepped foot on Anelace before but he knew her design by heart. Heskan had memorized his ship’s simple blueprint during his transit from Anthe to Narvi along with the names and faces of his crew. Even though there were fifty crewmembers on the ship, Heskan had challenged himself to know each crewmember from his first officer down to the lowest ranking spaceman.
Turning to his right, intending to head to the bridge, Heskan heard the heavy footsteps of someone jogging down the corridor from the opposite direction. I guess I can meet him halfway, Heskan thought as he started walking that direction. Soon, Heskan spotted the rapidly approaching figure of his first officer. Similar in height to Heskan at just less than two meters, he came skidding to a halt short of Heskan. He came to attention and saluted. “Lieutenant Mike Riedel. Welcome aboard, Captain.”
Heskan quickly returned the salute and extended his hand to the lieutenant. As they shook hands, Heskan answered, “Thank you, Mike. It’s good to be aboard. Sorry to spring my arrival on you like this.”
“No problem, sir. I was up in a sensor compartment when the announcement came through and hauled ass down here. Are we heading to the bridge or would you like to stop by your quarters first?”
Heskan started moving toward the bridge. “Let’s get the official stuff over with and then I can settle in.”
The walk to the bridge was a short one. In fact, on a ship so small, getting to any place was a matter of only a few minutes. They walked along the lower deck of Anelace, moving through the tiny medical bay and Damage Control Station Four as they passed by two youthful spacemen and a petty officer second class. Anticipating Heskan’s thoughts Riedel offered, “We’re young, sir, but it’s a good crew. Most of us have been on board over a year. I was in charge of the SENS section for six months before becoming first officer for the last year.”
Heskan nodded, “I like a young crew. It means we can work harder.”
Taking the elevator from Auxiliary Control, they ascended to Anelace’s upper deck, coming to rest near the highest point of Anelace’s hull, the bridge. After walking just a few meters, they passed through the bridge doors to a small and unimpressive room with seven shockseats. As the “brain” of the ship, the room was compact and crowded. A huge screen dominated the front wall and currently displayed the ship’s status. Near the center of the room and a mere two meters from the wall screen were the navigation and sensor stations. Just behind the two stations, in the center of the room, the captain’s chair rested. The chair had elaborate computer consoles on both arms including a docking station for his datapad but the front was unobstructed, providing an easy view of the entire bridge. Running along the right side of the bridge were the weapons station and first officer’s station. Along the left side sat the engineering and operations stations. Each station had its section’s abbreviation stenciled on the back of its chair; NAV (navigation), ENG (Engineering), SENS (Sensors), OPS (Operations), WEPS (Weapons) and 1ST (First Officer). While there were many other responsibilities to be attended to on board, the people who sat in these seats were the nucleus of activity when it came to discharging Anelace’s duties.
“Captain on the bridge,” a grey-haired enlisted man announced.
Senior Chief Petty Officer Andrew Brown, boatswain and the senior ranking enlisted man on Anelace. I hope we work well together, Heskan prayed.
The senior chief held onto a pole exactly two meters long; attached to the end was a dark blue flag with a long, curved dagger, the point of the dagger touching a star. Although Anelace could not fly a flag like the wet navy ships, each naval ship still possessed a ship’s flag along with the Republic’s ensign. Both flags would stand proudly inside Heskan’s quarters. The
senior chief handed the ship’s flag to Anelace’s temporary commander, Lieutenant Riedel. Riedel gripped the standard and whispered through his smile, “How’d you beat us to the bridge, Chief?”
The old chief winked and then his face became expressionless. “Bridge, Tench-HUT,” the chief practically yelled. Everyone, Heskan included, snapped instantly to attention. The three men stood close to each other. Heskan faced Riedel while Brown stood next to both slightly off to the side.
Heskan quietly cleared his throat, “Ensign Truesworth, One-MC, please.” Heskan felt a brief flush of amusement because of the surprised look on the young officer’s face. Even though it took me days to do it, that look alone made it completely worth memorizing my crew’s names and faces. Okay, Heskan, let’s try to sound official here. “In accordance with Brevic regulations, by order of Brevic Naval Command, dated 0212.995, I hereby assume command of BRS Anelace until rightfully relieved.”
Riedel unbraced from his position of attention, held the ship’s flag out in front of him and then thrust it to his side toward Chief Brown. “I am relieved of command,” he stated simply. The chief took the flag, paused a moment than then thrust the flag toward Heskan.
Heskan had a wild thought as the flag, and its responsibility, was pushed toward him. This is my last chance to run away down the halls screaming like a banshee. Instead, he reached out, grasped the pole and then braced back to attention. “I assume command.” Too late now.
The brief ceremony over, Heskan said loudly, “As you were, folks. Don’t let me stop what you were doing. I wasn’t planning any fancy speeches because we’ll be getting to know each other soon enough. We’re making way for Skathi shortly so let’s make sure we’re ready.”
Chapter 4
The tunnel connecting Narvi and Skathi compressed the four light-year distance in normal space to just nine and a half light-hours in t-space. The trip equated to slightly over four days of travel. RT-17 was approaching the halfway point of the trip when Heskan stepped into Anelace’s small gym. At four and a half meters long and fourteen meters wide, the room was little more than banks of weight lifting devices and stationary machines that simulated running, rowing and swimming. As was becoming standard, most of the exercise machines had holographic hemispheres at the front to give the illusion of exercising in any number of environments. On his former ship, Archer, he had set his rowing environment to the primary orbital of his home planet with the intention of “rowing” from it to Dione’s nearest moon. Although he had diligently saved his progress after each session, he had fallen far short of his goal despite rowing faithfully for four years.
This time, Heskan stepped onto a Pedi-Sim, selected the machine’s generic “Ocean-side Path” option from the choices and began a slow jog to warm up his muscles. The Form-U-Foam padding on the treadmill he ran on softened considerably to simulate sand and it was not long before his calves began to ache. Heskan actually detested running and had unequivocally once stated “the best thing about running is stopping.” However, he had to set the example in staying fit and the specter of the Brevic yearly fitness test always lurked in the back of his mind. He was not in any danger of failing it but just the thought of failing along with the accompanying humiliation was enough to ensure an adequate physical fitness regimen. The chronometer indicated only eight minutes had passed and he was already considering switching to a firmer surface when Mike Riedel stepped near the Pedi-Sim next to him.
“This station taken, Captain?” the first officer asked. Heskan waved toward the machine. “Go ahead, this way you won’t have far to run when I collapse and need resuscitation.”
Riedel finished stretching and moved onto the machine. Heskan felt his stomach tighten. Oh, I hope this isn’t going to be awkward; I’ve never been good at social situations but I really need to say something. It’s going to be awful if we just run next to each other in an uncomfortable silence.
Heskan noticed Riedel had selected a series of sixty-meter hurdle races. From the corner of his eye, he watched him run the first race, jumping over the holographic hurdles. The finish was close but the display said he came in second place.
“Are you a track man, Mike?” Heskan asked at the end of the race.
“I used to run in college some. Ana’s last skipper ran too and occasionally we’d race each other.” Riedel shrugged as he finished walking his cool down sequence and prepared for the next race.
Heskan’s legs were fully burning now. He jogged slightly closer to the “water” and was rewarded with the Form-U-Foam hardening some. “How was Captain Hasting’s relationship with Lieutenant Durmont?”
Riedel paused his machine and Heskan followed suit. Heskan could tell by Riedel’s expression that he was thinking his answer over carefully.
“Well, I think they had some disagreements but both men wanted what was best for the system,” Riedel stated tactfully.
It’s not proper to speak poorly about your superior officers, especially your commanding officer, but if I’m not honest with Mike right now, we’ll never develop a real and trusting relationship, Heskan thought. I might as well just be brutally honest since that’s what I’ll expect from him. “I understand that he’s my commander by virtue of his position and we’re certainly going to follow any orders from our superiors but I think Durmont is an ass, personally.”
Riedel’s guarded expression immediately melted into a big smile. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Captain! Captain Hasting hated him and judging by the few meetings I’ve had with the man, I always thought he was a jerk as well.” Riedel quickly looked around the gym to ensure it was still empty. “Durmont actually told me that I should come to him directly if I thought Hasting was ever acting” —he made air quotes with his fingers—“contrary to Narvi’s proper authority.” He shook his head in disgust.
Heskan smiled. “Hopefully if I‘m doing that, you’ll just give me a swift kick in the butt first.”
Riedel laughed and nodded, “We’re gonna get along great, Captain.”
“I think so too, Mike. I knew if I had a good first officer, everything else would be easy. I’m lucky to have you.”
Both men resumed their exercise programs and the gym filled with the hum of the two machines and the friendly banter of their operators.
* * *
Two days later, Renard Tug 17 dove from the tunnel point into the dim red light of Skathi’s M5V star. Less than half the mass of Terra’s sun with half the heat, Skathi’s star was typical bordering on pedestrian. The solar system consisted of only three terrestrial planets. Closest to the red dwarf star, Skathi-1 was a molten mass of heavy metals orbiting the star every seventy-one Terran days. Skathi-2 and -3 were further distant but equally barren. None had a breathable atmosphere so they would forever be known to humanity by only the sequential order in which they appeared from their star.
What made Skathi noteworthy was not her planets but what resided between them. Unimaginatively designated by Brevic stellar exploration as the “Alpha Field,” a dense asteroid field rich in promethium was the system’s main attraction. Notable for being the only exclusively radioactive element besides technetium that is followed by chemical elements with stable isotopes, promethium was a critical industrial chemical element. The Alpha Field, located between Skathi-1 and Skathi-2, appeared to be a veritable garden for this rare material. It was intensely dense, making standard ore scanning procedures useless and starship sensor capability heavily reduced due to interference. The second major asteroid field, the Beta Field, was positioned 15lm (light-minutes) past Skathi-3. It too contained enough trace deposits of promethium to create substantial sensor disturbances but nothing comparable to those experienced in and around the Alpha Field.
Four years ago, after a Brevic scouting squadron surveyed the system, the Republic’s major mining companies fought tooth and nail for the system’s initial mineral rights. After two years of litigation, Renard Mining Enterprises had prevailed and rushed to begin its mining protocols. Three
Renard ore surveyor ships began their sweeps but the Alpha Field proved to have too much sensor disturbance for anything but time-consuming, close range analysis. Two of the three ships moved further out-system to begin categorizing the Beta Field while the third conducted a limited site survey of the Alpha Field.
Any operation in space is dangerous. Space is not an environment friendly to Terran life and despite spending centuries in it, man has discovered that space has abundant ways to demonstrate just how unfriendly it is. After one month of surveying the Alpha Field, contact with the first Renard surveyor ship was lost. The remaining two ships organized a crude search but found no trace of the lost surveyor.
Having gotten off to a bad start, the second Renard ore survey mission was created to right the wrongs of the first. Renard had accepted that in its rush to begin exploiting the rich mineral deposits, it had overlooked the inherent dangers of surveying in a high radiation, low sensor visibility environment. The vast sums of monies paid to the families of the doomed first ship’s crew had helped reinforce the point to the company. This time, Renard sent three standard surveyor ships for the Beta Field and the flagship of their priceless Domeyko class ships to chart the Alpha Field.
In the first week, Domeyko had surveyed approximately three percent of the asteroid field and already had categorized enough promethium extraction sites to place the asteroid belt on track to be the largest single known source of promethium once fully surveyed. Roughly three weeks into the job, Domeyko transmitted that it had found what it believed was the hull of Renard’s lost surveyor ship. This discovery was Domeyko’s last transmission and the beginning of the rumors that Skathi was a cursed system.
Renard, having sunk billions of Brevic credits into the system, could hardly walk away from the project. Besides, the company argued to the Republic’s Mining Safety Panel, once online the system had the potential to place the Republic into the enviable position of being the universe’s largest exporter of promethium. Having none of that, the panel suspended all mining activity within the system.