by Dave Bara
“The primary coil cannon arrays have been upgraded to six hundred and sixty exajoules per volley, enough to shake up a continent. After our encounter with the Imperial dreadnought at Levant it was clear we were severely underpowered compared to old Imperial technology. Likewise, we’ve upgraded the Hoagland Field array to match, as well as the warheads on our atomic torpedoes to increase their yield. The field will now be able to diffuse the effects of any anti-graviton plasma weapons we might encounter, like those at Levant. Our pace through normal space is still limited by Newtonian physics, but we’ve upgraded the impellers and the sub-light hyperdimensional drive output to give us quicker acceleration and more escape speed, if we need it,” he said.
I was a bit disappointed at this. “What, no new superweapon? A planet-melter or something?”
He looked at me, nonplussed by my attempt at humor. “That’s all I’m willing to discuss at the moment, Peter. The rest will depend on our circumstances,” he replied coolly. I eyed my friend and mentor. He was throwing up a stone wall at me, but I wasn’t ready to concede just yet.
“The anti-graviton device the Imperial HuK used at Levant is the most worrisome to me. That is a potent weapon. Let’s hope the First Empire didn’t develop any capabilities of that weapon beyond what we’ve already seen,” I said.
“The new field will protect the ship,” Serosian said flatly. Again, I wasn’t ready to concede and let him off the hook.
“But what about planets like Levant?” I asked. “Who or what will protect them?”
He shifted again in his chair.
“We have developed and deployed a drone network at Levant, Quantar, and Carinthia that will diffuse any anti-graviton energy if they try to use it on a planet,” he said. “I know you have a particular interest in the welfare of Levant, Peter, but the Church has the Founder gateway device there under control and she is safe enough for now.”
I wasn’t sure if by “she” he meant the planet itself or its most intriguing resident, the Princess Janaan.
“Thank you for your reassurances,” I said. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“No,” he said, finally smiling but not giving in, “but it is all I’m willing to tell you for now.”
I nodded. “Very well. I can see your stubborn streak has kicked in.”
“That it has,” he said, then quickly changed the subject. “So, how are things with Dobrina?” he asked casually.
The question caught me off guard. I’d been in a personal relationship with the Commander since my rehab stint on High Station Candle had ended and I’d returned to Starbound three months ago, but he and I had never discussed it.
“Things are . . . progressing,” I said cautiously. “Are you going to be the latest to warn me off of personal relationships with superior officers?”
He shook his head. “No. In fact I’m glad you two are enjoying each other’s company. Just be aware that it can’t interfere with the smooth running of the ship.”
“It hasn’t yet,” I said. “And it’s been three months already.”
“Three months of repair and refit,” he countered. Now it was my turn to give him the steel-eyed stare.
“Do you have doubts about me, Serosian?” I eventually asked. No one out-stared Starbound’s Historian. Again the negative shake of the head.
“Doubts, no. But I do have a warning. Like it or not, you have two roles aboard Starbound, Peter. One is as a navy officer, which you handle quite excellently. The other is as a young royal representative of the Union who might be called to assume the mantle of diplomat at any time, as you were on Levant,” he said.
“I understand that.”
“Then please consider one other thing; you are engaged in a personal relationship with a valuable fellow officer. At any time you may be called by duty to relinquish that relationship for the sake of the Union. Are you prepared to do that?”
I thought about that. I had feelings for Dobrina, feelings of romance and respect and possibly even of love, but my standing as the heir to Quantar’s royal titles was never far from my mind. “I think so,” I said.
“Then also keep in mind that Dobrina has feelings as well, and though you may be prepared to sacrifice your relationship with her, she may not feel the same way about you. Tread lightly, Peter. She is still a woman underneath the uniform and the duty and the honor,” he finished.
And I had nothing to say to that, so I didn’t. I thanked him for the conversation and made my way back to my own cabin to rest. Alone.
Ship’s Sunday was filled with checking in on the marines, including my friend Sergeant John Marker, who was now leading a fully integrated team of equal numbers of Quantar and Carinthian troops. Colonel Babayan had overall command (and I had responsibility over her) and her own integrated team. Together the two of them made friendly rivals. I ran the marine teams through several drills and even had them run one in their full EVA suits with the gravity off in the landing bay, deploying out of their shuttles by tether. I wasn’t sure they would ever need it, but I wanted them to be prepared just in case. Deploying on the First Empire station orbiting Jenarus 4 could be tricky, and I wanted to prepare them for any eventuality.
After a couple of hours of drills I let the teams have the afternoon off, but not before heading down to the ship’s firing range to get in some practice time. Usually on Sundays I was alone, but today one of the nine ranges was occupied. I checked out a coil rifle and pistol and loaded them with plasma packs before heading over to see who the other shooter might be. I found a small and scrawny young lieutenant practicing his target shooting. He immediately snapped to attention when he saw me coming, but I waved him to at-ease.
“Lieutenant . . . Daniel, isn’t it?” I said.
“Yes, sir,” he snapped in reply.
“Practicing your target shooting?”
“I am, sir.” I paused for a second to recall what I knew of the young man. All I could remember was that he was responsible for ship’s accommodations and supply, not an active combat role of any kind.
“Aren’t you the ship’s purser?” I said. He nodded.
“I am, sir,” he repeated.
I smiled as I loaded my rifle. “What brings you here?”
He hesitated at this.
“Well, Lieutenant?”
“Sometimes Sergeant Marker lets me come down and practice with the marines, sir. I like to keep my shooting skills fresh, sir,” he finally said.
“So are you looking for a more active combat role?” I asked him. Again he hesitated.
“Being the purser has its perks, sir. But I’ve always wanted to have a combat role,” he said. I appreciated his honesty.
“Well, if that’s what you want, you should have come to me. I’ve got final jurisdiction over the marine detachments.”
“Yes, sir.” I looked at him again. Physically there was no way he could measure up to the marines Starbound had. Ours, whether Quantar or Carinthian, were the best of the best. Still, I admired his ambition.
“Let’s see you shoot,” I said. He activated a new target and completed ten out of ten on his first run, but missed two on the second. I set it up for a two-man challenge, pistols and rifles both, and set it for a three out of five game. I won the first two rounds in each category easily, but he showed determination and took the third legitimately before I dispatched him in the fourth round. Still, for a noncombat officer, he showed promise.
“I’ll recommend to Sergeant Marker that he let you drill with the teams on your off hours, lieutenant. But no skimping on your regular duties,” I said afterward as we cleaned our weapons.
“Thank you, sir!” said Daniel, quite enthusiastic.
“You’re welcome, Lieutenant,” I said as I departed, making a note on my com pad to talk to Marker about him.
I turned down Dobrina’s offer of an afternoon fencing m
atch via my com, I hoped politely. Serosian’s lecture was affecting me, and I was concerned that perhaps I had let things between us go too far, considering all my other responsibilities aboard Starbound.
I ate with my senior reports, Marker, Hogan, Layton, Babayan and Duane Longer of Propulsion, for both lunch and dinner. Satisfied we were all ready for launch at 0700 Monday, I headed back to my cabin at 1930 hours to rest and relax before the next morning’s events.
I opened my door to find Dobrina on my couch, reading her reports on a plasma display and drinking a bottle of my favorite Quantar shiraz. She was also wearing a one-piece, skin-tight black bodysuit that was no doubt designed to get my attention. That it did.
“Have I no privacy anymore, madam?” I said as I entered and then quickly shut the door behind me.
“Not today you don’t,” she said. “Not after giving me the brush-off on fencing.”
“I was busy,” I said, defending myself and taking off my duty jacket as she poured wine into a glass for me.
“Not good enough, Commander. You’ll have to do better with those excuses,” she said. I had the rest of my uniform off in a few more seconds, then put on a pair of casual duty coveralls and sat down in a chair as she handed me my wine from across the coffee table.
“And how was your day?” I asked her casually, like we were an old married couple. She smiled and it lit up the room, for me anyway. I found that my ability to hold her at arm’s length emotionally evaporated when I got near her. I wondered if that was what love was like.
“My day was full of reports and system failures and general to-doing that should never have happened. I spent two hours down in Propulsion kicking some ass on their preflight performance drills,” she said.
“They aren’t ready?” I asked. “Duane Longer reported to me otherwise.”
She shook her head. “Not even close as far as I’m concerned. I put Lieutenant Longer on notice. But it doesn’t matter. We launch at 0700 anyway. Maclintock won’t stand for anything else.”
“That he won’t,” I said and took a drink of my wine.
“You seem pensive,” she said. It was like she could read my mind. “And I could tell you were avoiding me all day.”
I circled the rim of my wineglass with my thumb, looking down at the table.
“Come on, out with it. That’s an order,” she said. I laughed, then sat back.
“I had a talk with Serosian today.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a conversation with our esteemed Historian if it didn’t involve warning you about me again, would it?” she said.
I shrugged. “You shouldn’t be so hard on him. He’s actually trying to protect you,” I said.
“So he thinks,” she replied. “I’m a big girl, Peter, all grown up. I think by now I’ve proven that I know what I’m doing in this relationship, as well as with my career.”
“He’s just concerned about my future political responsibilities, and how they might end up hurting you if we get too close,” I explained. She sat back at this, increasing the distance between us.
“I appreciate his concern, but I’m well capable of taking care of myself, thank you,” she said.
“I’m not taking his side, you know. Just relaying his concerns,” I answered.
“And so you have. Perhaps it’s time we moved on to more pleasant activities than arguing about Serosian.” With that she put her glass down and came across the room. She took my glass from me, then straddled me on the chair, her hands on my shoulders. I looked up at her. She had a magic about her, though it certainly wasn’t about her external beauty. It was something more, something deeper, that had its hooks in me.
“I learned a long time ago that I could get hurt in love, Peter. It hasn’t stopped me from pursuing it, and it won’t keep me away from you, unless that’s what you want,” she said. “Right now I’m enjoying every minute we have together, and I’m taking it just that way, moment to moment. Don’t let Serosian worry you. Do what feels right in the moment, and we’ll both be safe, and happy, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. Then she started kissing me, and the body suit started to come off, and I was reminded again just why I thought she was such an extraordinary woman.
We were set and ready for launch by 0630. All of my system responsibilities checked in green a full forty minutes prior to departure. Dobrina’s reports took a bit longer but we were green to go with thirty minutes to spare.
Maclintock started the launch clock at 0645.
Serosian came up to his station five minutes before the hour. I took to my longscope station and clicked into our private com channel as I fired up my systems displays.
“You’re nothing if not prompt,” I said sarcastically.
“There’s always a critic,” he said back. That made me laugh, but only for a second. Maclintock demanded a final departure report.
“All systems green, Captain,” I said in response.
“Regretfully, Captain, I must disagree.” This came from Dobrina, seated next to the captain at her XO’s station.
“Explain, XO.”
“We are green but we are not optimal, sir. The performance of the Propulsion team has been below accepted norms for the last two ship’s cycles,” she said.
“Mr. Cochrane?” asked Maclintock, turning his attention back to me. I stepped away from the longscope and approached the captain’s chair, looking down on Maclintock and Dobrina.
“Propulsion Officer Longer has reported both chemical impellers and sub-light HD drives are above acceptable minimums, sir. I trust that evaluation,” I stated.
“But the fact is that the unit as a whole is testing out at just eighty-four percent efficiency, isn’t that true, Lieutenant Commander?” said Dobrina. I took her challenge.
“Your test evaluations are correct, XO. But I prefer to measure performance by actuals, not test evaluations,” I replied. Maclintock mulled this.
“Lieutenant Longer,” said the captain to the slightly pudgy, ginger-haired lead propulsion officer. Longer stood and faced the captain’s chair from his post one level below the Command Deck. “Can you guarantee we will outperform the XO’s test evaluations in actual flight?”
Longer looked to me, and I gave him an assenting nod, guaranteeing him my support.
“I can, sir,” said Longer. “XO’s evaluations are based on assumptions that we cannot compensate for a filtering problem with the chemical fuel infusers, sir. I believe we solved that problem late last night.”
“So you’re guaranteeing that we will outperform the eighty-four percent threshold?” asked the captain. Again Longer looked my way. I held my gaze firm.
“Guaranteed, sir,” he said.
“Good. I’ll hold you to that. But as a matter of course, whenever a challenge is raised on my bridge there must be something put on the line as compensation to the winners. I propose that the loser of this little bet must provide the winners with something of value, perhaps dinner at the Cloud Room on Candle when we return,” he said. That was no small bet, especially for a junior officer. The Cloud Room was expensive.
“I’ll take that bet, and I’ll back the lieutenant on this one, sir,” I said.
“Done,” said Maclintock. “And so as not to leave the XO flailing alone in the wind, I will back her side of the bet.”
“Also done,” I replied, eyeing them both with a smile on my face. Maclintock smiled back.
“Very well then,” he said. “You have to keep your propulsion efficiency average over eighty-four percent for the duration of the voyage to Jenarus, gentlemen. Stations!” he called out. Then we all broke back to our duties, with George Layton taking us away from Candle and making for our jump point exit from our home system.
We were good on impellers for the two light-hours it took us to reach the exit of the Quantar system, but when we started to decelerate to the jump
point, our propulsion efficiency began to drop. Lieutenant Longer sent a note of it to my systems display as we slipped below our minimum. The damned infuser filters were probably clogging again. I looked over at Dobrina, who smiled and winked back from her monitoring board. I switched the com to Longer’s channel.
“What are we gonna do?” he said, a bit panicky. “We’re already dropping in performance.”
“Buck up, man. We stay the course. Once we enter the hyperdimensional bubble we’ll engage the sub-light HD drive and that will carry us through until we exit into normal space again. You’ll have almost two days to fix those infusers,” I said.
“But if we engaged the hybrid drive—”
“No.” I cut him off, looking around the bridge to see if Maclintock or Dobrina were eavesdropping on our conversation. When it was all clear, I said, “That’s our ace in the hole. We’re not using the hybrid drive until and unless we have to. Clear, Lieutenant?”
There was silence for a moment, then, “Clear, sir.”
“Good.”
The hybrid drive was something I’d had Longer working on for a couple of months, a way to increase the chemical impeller drive output by running the HD sub-light drive at the same time in standby mode. The impellers could then cultivate the electrons from the excess HD plasma, convert them to a gas, and run more efficiently. Basically it was a kinetic energy reclamation system. Of course there was the slight possibility that the resulting energy intermix could destroy the ship, but that was a less than .000086 probability. Those were numbers I was going to hold on to, for now.
Twenty minutes later, we shut down the impeller drive with our efficiency score running at 84.56 percent, barely over the bet minimum. Switching to the sub-light HD drive inside the bubble would help us, but our margin was razor thin.
Longer turned over control of ship’s propulsion to Jenny Hogan at Astrogation with five minutes to go on the jump clock. She had plotted our path to Jenarus through the hyperdimensional aether, and once we jumped, we wouldn’t be able to exit traverse space until we reached our destination. I quietly hoped she was as good at interstellar geolocation as I thought she was as I strapped in for the transition. We were, after all, essentially jumping blind to a point in space 46.9 light-years distant.