There were three science sections, which Hamilton thought was unusual since they only had three scientists, two forward and one above the central engineering section.
After this, Vogerian, Carl and the captain returned to the hangar bay to greet the next arrivals.
The others were left to their own devices in the mess. They sat around, discussing the Hope’s Breath.
Veltin, however, glanced meaningfully at Hamilton, then at the exit. Hamilton nodded. The pair rose and made their way quietly to the exit. The others ignored them.
“What is it?” Hamilton asked when they were out of earshot.
“I want a closer look at the bridge. I am going to be flying this thing, after all.”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”
“I want a look now!”
“You’ll get in trouble with Vogerian.” Hamilton warned.
“Who cares? I’m not afraid of the old man.”
“Are you afraid of Carl?”
Veltin scowled, thinking. “You’ll have to authorise it, then.”
“What?” Hamilton asked.
“You’re in charge of security. That must put you in charge when Vogerian’s not around.”
“He’s only on the hangar deck.”
“Wouldn’t you like a closer look?”
“Sure,” Hamilton said. “But there’s no rush.”
“That’s what you say. If you ask me, there’s something screwy going on here. What do you think?”
Hamilton frowned. The pilot was brighter than he had thought.
“Well?” Veltin demanded.
“Maybe you’re right.” Hamilton conceded. “But that’s my business.”
“You might discover something on the bridge.”
Hamilton scowled. The pilot made an annoying amount of sense. Besides, what could Vogerian do if he found out? “Oh. all right! Let’s go!”
The pair returned to the security/medical area and boarded the elevator there. The control panel only held two buttons, an up and a down button. Veltin thumbed the down button.
The elevator descended slowly, it seemed. Then the mechanism gave a little jolt, and the doors slid open.
The bridge was a circular room with the elevator set against one curved wall. There were numerous consoles here, which Veltin and Hamilton examined cautiously.
At last, Veltin located the piloting controls. He sat down and began to fiddle.
“Hey!” Hamilton cried. “Don’t fool around with those controls.”
“I know what I’m doing!” Veltin retorted.
Hamilton wasn’t so sure but left him at it and wandered around the bridge by himself. A large central chair was obviously where Vogerian would sit. Wandering around, Hamilton noted that, unlike other craft, there was a console for everything. Most vessels combined several functions into one console. The Hope’s Breath had a separate console for everything.
Hamilton located the tactical console. He sat down and began, like Veltin, to fiddle with the controls.
The entire weaponry of the ship was keyed to this one console. Hamilton proceeded cautiously. No point in inviting accidents.
The list of weaponry which the ship possessed was incredible. Even the few warships in service did not possess such firepower. There were projectile cannons and lasers, even huge plasma cannons, big brothers to the rifle he himself owned. There were even torpedoes and missiles. It had everything.
The pilot was mumbling to himself happily from his console. Hamilton ignored him, intent on his own investigations.
The console was very simple, once he started playing with the controls. He was no computer expert but, he had to admit, the thing was laid out simply and inuitively. He called up a tactical view of the surrounding area of space.
The Hope’s Breath was at the centre of the view. Hamilton fiddled with the ranging controls and the survey vessel slid into view on one side as the scanning area increased. As he watched a small speck, undoubtedly the launch, split off from the survey vessel and began to move towards the Hope’s Breath. Hamilton tried to call up scan data on the craft, but discovered that the sensors were resident in another console. He frowned. There were too many consoles on this ship.
He got up and crossed to the sensor console. Now that he was familiar with the basic layout of the consoles, it was the work of an instant to start the scanning sequence and to echo its data to his terminal. He left it on automatic and returned to the tactical console.
Data from the sensor console was now available to him. He carefully examined the survey vessel. All seemed in order there. It was an unarmed vessel of modest ability. The scan revealed only four people aboard. Hamilton considered this to mean that the launch was on its final passenger run. The captain would pilot it back to the survey vessel.
Using the controls on his own console, Hamilton shifted the scan over to the approaching launch. It showed eight people aboard. Hamilton flicked over the rest of the details. He was about to switch off the console and drag the pilot out before they were discovered when something caught his interest on the display.
It was one of those times where he saw one word as he looked away. A word that was unusual or out of place. A word that catches your attention. The word in this case was ‘uncertain’.
Hamilton scanned the readout a second, more thorough time. At last he found the word again, under the heading ‘Armament’.
He frowned at the display. Survey vessel launches weren’t armed. He tried to fine tune the display, but failed to get any clearer indication of what ‘uncertain’ meant. The launch drew nearer. He recalled that Klane was due to come over on the last shuttle. Perhaps the scan had revealed her weaponry. If so, he was impressed. Either the scanners were far more advanced than anything available to the Empire or, he reasoned, Klane was packing something powerful in her kit-bag. Hamilton scowled in irritation and fiddled with the controls, trying to fine tune them. No further information, however, could be gleaned. Annoyed, he shut off his console. Then he crossed over to the sensor console and deactivated that, also.
“Come on!” he said to the pilot.
Veltin waved a hand without turning around. “Yeah, just one minute.”
“Now!” Hamilton hissed.
The pilot turned and scowled at him. “I’ve discovered these unusual field controls. I can discover their purpose in a few seconds.”
“Now!” Hamilton repeated, heading towards the pilot.
“OK! OK!” Veltin grumbled. “I’m coming!”
He switched his terminal off and hastily joined Hamilton at the elevator. They ascended to rejoin their crewmates.
Hamilton found that the two they had left had been joined by another six, Jones among them. Hamilton took him aside and briefed him on his discoveries, such as they were.
Jones nodded. “I figured you were doing something like that. Vogerian told us to stay here as well. He didn’t look too happy when there were only those two here.”
Hamilton shrugged. “So what? He’s hardly likely to make an issue out of it, now is he?”
Jones shook his head. “Not publicly, maybe, but I sure wouldn’t like a visit from Carl in the middle of the night. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve all got separate rooms, now.”
“Hmmm,” Hamilton agreed. “That’ll make ‘accidents’ easy to arrange.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” Jones stated.
“On both sides.” Hamilton added.
“What about this ‘uncertain’ armament on the launch?”
Hamilton shrugged again. “Probably Klane’s gear. She tends to pack a lot of firepower.”
“Enough to set off ship’s sensors?” Jones was sceptical.
“You don’t know her as well as I do.”
The rest of the crew were brought aboard and stowed their gear. Then they were all assembled in the rec area.
Vogerian spoke to them at some length about the greatness of their voyage but without revealing any new information.
His speech was so full of grandiose statements and esteem boosting phrases that everyone felt privileged and honoured to be a part of the mission. Everyone, that was, except Hamilton, Jones and Klane. They stood near the back, faces bland throughout the rhetoric.
After the speech, Vogerian ordered them all to their assigned places on the ship. They would be getting under way in less than an hour.
Hamilton and his team were given the code that opened the security room door. Inside was a single terminal from which the operator could monitor proceedings all over the ship, with the exception of personal cabins.
There was also a large weapons locker containing, as Hamilton had guessed, stun rifles and grenades. There was also anti-stun headgear which dampened the effects of concussion and flash on the wearer’s head. Additionally, there were all-environment suits, which Hamilton and the others checked over.
Hamilton assigned Klane to watch the monitors during their initial acceleration period. He set Jones to ‘patrolling’ the corridors. In truth, Jones was supposed to sniff out anything unusual with his gadgets. Hamilton himself would man the weapons console on the bridge.
Before they parted, Klane produced a trio of headset transceivers and handed one to each of them.
“We can keep in touch more privately with these,” she explained. “It’s difficult for anyone to work out what we’re up to if they can only hear one side of the conversation.”
“Good idea.” Hamilton agreed, donning his headset. “I’ve got one of my own somewhere about, but I’ll use yours for now.”
Jones did likewise. “I’ll have to know what frequency these operate on,” he said. “So as to adjust my equipment in order that it doesn’t cause interference.”
“I don’t know.” Klane shrugged.
“Great!” Jones muttered. “I’ll find out myself.”
The trio parted company, each to their assigned task.
The engine start up went smoothly, though Simmonds was difficult to get moving. He continually raved about the advanced technology, his voice full of wonder over the bridge speakers.
The survey vessel, now under command of the captain and his four men, moved off steadily, accelerating towards its own transit point. Hamilton watched its blip move across his screen. LeGault manned the sensor console and made sure a continuous stream of data was fed to Hamilton.
The Hope’s Breath also accelerated rapidly, though no sensation of such reached her occupants, moving along a reciprocal course to the survey vessel.
On the bridge, Hamilton and LeGault were accompanied by Vogerian, who sat in the central command chair; Veltin and Puckett, who were pilot and co-pilot respectively; Philbin and Lutess, who were in charge of astrogation; Tong, who manned the science console disinterestedly; Jackson, manning the bridge engineering console and Walsh, who monitored the ship’s systems. Carl was, of course, also present. He stood just behind Vogerian, resting his hands on the back of his master’s chair.
Hamilton directed the scan towards the survey vessel. There was no sign of the mysterious ‘armament uncertain’ description that he had seen previously. Must have been Klane’s gear, he thought, cursing himself for not asking her about her stuff. The scan revealed data typical of a ship under hard acceleration. Hamilton expanded the range of his sensors. There were no other craft in the vicinity.
At the pilot’s console, Veltin was smiling and grinning to himself. He knew what all his controls did now. After the meeting in the rec area they had been given informative books about how to use the various consoles. They had been brief and assumed a great deal of user knowledge. No one had complained. The consoles were easy to use.
Puckett sat back in his co-pilot’s chair, arms dangling listlessly, spinning slightly from left to right. He had little to do with Veltin around. The chief pilot was very enthusiastic about his work and left little for others. If he’d had the skills, Hamilton was certain he’d be rushing from console to console, not trusting the others to do their jobs properly.
Hamilton noted that Walsh was monitoring the ship’s systems efficiently. If anything was going to go wrong. it would be now, though Hamilton reasoned that the captain and his men would have put the ship through it’s paces.
Philbin and Lutess sat quietly at the astro positions. Their job was mainly over. All they had to do now was to make sure Veltin didn’t veer off course.
Jackson monitored the various fields that protected the ship’s occupants and made adjustments where necessary. He was doing his job well. There was no sensation of acceleration.
Hamilton muttered into his headset. “How’s it going, Klane?”
The headset had caused some amusement amongst the bridge crew when he had appeared wearing it.
Klane, isolated in the security room, spoke out loud. “All quiet here. No one wandering about suspiciously. Except for Jones, that is.”
“Hmm,” Hamilton mumbled. “How are you doing, Jones?”
There was a short delay. “Fine.” he answered. “Nothing yet. It’s a big ship to cover.”
“I appreciate that. Keep at it.”
“Oh my God!” A voice cried on the bridge.
Hamilton looked around and saw that LeGault was staring at his console in horror. “What do you make of that, Hamilton?” He said, shocked.
Hamilton scanned his own display hurriedly. The blip that was the survey vessel was fading fast after having expanded somewhat. He drew on the sensor data for an explanation.
“What’s going on?” Vogerian asked, looking from one to another. The bridge crew stared at one or the other.
Hamilton read the data with horror.
“It’s been destroyed.” LeGault whispered to the crew. “The survey vessel has been destroyed!”
CHAPTER NINE
Vogerian stared in disbelief. Hamilton, despite being shocked himself, was not slow to notice their captain’s reaction to the news.
“Are you sure?” The old man stammered. His face had paled considerably.
LeGault glanced across at Hamilton, who nodded in agreement. “It’s true,” he said. “It’s gone.”
Hamilton reviewed the data quickly. The survey vessel had been replaced with a rapidly expanding sphere of gas and debris. “It looks as if they had some kind of reactor problem. At least, it’s that level of destruction. Almost total vaporisation.”
Vogerian blinked uncertainly for a moment, then regained his composure. “Very well. We had better return and see what we can discover.” He was now in complete control again.
Veltin nodded. “Right. Here we go!”
The ship decelerated far more rapidly than it had accelerated. Here was a momentary disorientation as Veltin flipped the ship to face the other way then, once they were stationary, the pilot accelerated at maximum thrust towards the remains of the survey vessel.
Hamilton wondered over the destruction and Vogerian’s reaction to it. The old man had seemed truly shocked, but had rapidly controlled his emotions. The explosion itself was, of course, highly suspicious. Hamilton thought that it was unlikely that the captain and his men were so incompetent that they’d take off without checking the reactor first. They’d had at least an hour to check things over. Something as radical as a faulty reactor was fairly easy to spot. In addition, Hamilton thought, the Hope’s Breath’s sensors should have detected such a fault during his scans. They were designed to analyse damage sustained by enemy craft. Yet neither he nor LeGault had noticed anything untoward.
Hamilton suddenly recalled the ‘armament uncertain’ data that he had discovered previously. A chill ran down his spine. Several things occurred to him now to explain that anomaly. Several, rather unpleasant, things.
He returned to his scans, checking constantly for the presence of any other vessels in the vicinity. There were none. Nor were there any signs of escape pods. It had happened too quickly. He launched a recon probe via the torpedo tubes and watched as it sped away, sending back data constantly. It soon reached the cloud of debris and began to co
ast through, analysing its findings. They were not encouraging.
There was little left of the SVIII63 that was larger than an inch. The radiation count was confusing, not at all what he would have expected from a reactor explosion. And the amount of energy still present in the area hinted at something even more violent than an atomic explosion.
The Hope’s Breath itself closed quickly on the remnants of the survey craft. The entire crew was on edge. The unknown element charged them with tension.
At the site they discovered the wreckage already strewn for kilometres. It was no longer a spherical distribution, rather an elongated ovoid. The ship had been travelling at speed before its destruction. It was difficult to get much information from what little remained that hadn’t already been relayed by the probe.
They circled the area slowly, looking for clues. There were, of course, no survivors. An explosion of the magnitude that had destroyed the survey vessel was unlikely to be gentle on escape capsules even if they had been launched. In addition, such capsules carried emergency beacons and they had picked up no such signals.
After some hours of pointless searching, the Hope’s Breath swung away onto its original course and left the scene far behind.
They soon began to accelerate again. This time it was a much fiercer, more violent acceleration. Jackson adjusted the fields to compensate and they began their run up to transit. At the end of the jump they could look forward to entering, if Vogerian was to be believed, the home system of the Humals.
Hamilton wondered where they were really going. Things were becoming grimmer by the minute. Hamilton considered again Vogerian’s choice of crew. They were all expendable, unlikely to be missed. They had few or no relatives to ask questions. Those, like Hamilton, who did have relatives, were unlikely to be missed by them, or written off if they were. Hamilton wondered who the captain and his men had been. They hadn’t even been introduced. Some small time team, he thought, impressed by talk of fame and fortune. Hamilton scowled at his console. He made a mental promise to get to the bottom of things by the time they reached their destination.
Humal Sequence 1: A Breath of Hope Page 13