Rimworld- Into the Green

by JL Curtis

  Tapping the wrist comp, he said, “Negative guidance. Thank you.

  Nicole looked at him curiously as they proceeded up decks, “What was that all about?

  Fargo replied, “I was aboard this ship coming out from X-ray, and since I was the only passenger, they granted me access to the ship’s AI. I guess it remembered me.” Stopping in front of compartment four, he continued, “This one is yours. I’m next door.” Glancing down, he saw that Nicole was also wearing a wrist comp and said, “Hang on a second.” Tapping his, he said, “AI, this is Fargo, can you add Mrs. Levesque’s wrist comp to your system access?”

  A pleasant female voice responded out of the speaker, “Done, Captain. Mrs. Levesque, please check your comp in three, two…”

  Nicole’s wrist comp beeped an alert as she glanced at it. It showed an alert in red that said ‘SHIP PUSH TEST’. It also started a count in the female voice, “One, two, three, four, five, four, three, two, one. Please confirm by voice and touch receipt of alert.”

  Looking at Fargo, Nicole cocked her head, then punched the acknowledgement, saying, “AI, Nicole Levesque, copied all audio and visual alerts.”

  The AI responded, “Thank you.”

  Nicole looked at him again, then stepped through the dilated hatch into her compartment. He walked next door and unpacked his bag, plopping the electronics bag on the fold out desk. Looking at his wrist comp, he saw there was an additional lounge and dining area showing on the ship’s schematic.

  Fargo looked up, “AI, I see additional mess area and lounge on the schematic that weren’t here the last time I was aboard. Is this where we passengers are allowed?”

  The AI responded immediately, “Captain, you and Mrs. Levesque are granted ship’s mess privileges, you may eat in either place at your choice. Meal choices are the same.”

  Fargo said, “Thank you AI. I will notify Mrs. Levesque.”

  Suddenly, the IC blared, “All hands, boarding lock is sealed, secure all loose equipment, prep for space. Engineering, fifteen minute warning. Launch crew, fifteen minute warning. Drop tube and disconnect three zero minutes. Passengers, please make your way to the passenger lounge deck five, compartment five for safety brief, and procedures.”

  Fargo called it up on his wrist comp and started out the door, almost bumping into Nicole in the process. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Nicole cocked her head, “Where do we go?”

  “Down two decks, inboard one more compartment. Use your wrist comp for mapping, or we can go together.”

  Nicole replied, “Lead on.”

  Fargo and Nicole were the last two to arrive in the passenger lounge, and looked around as they walked to an unoccupied table. There were thirty passengers, multiple races and ethnicities scattered through the lounge. Some were drinking from bulbs, as others sat quietly.

  Seconds later Evie, the pilot in a form fitting shipsuit came into the lounge. Nodding to Fargo she stood at the front of the lounge, “May I have your attention please? I’m Evie, the ship’s pilot. Captain Jace is completing some paperwork with the station, and requested I give the briefing. Let me start by welcoming each of you aboard, and I’d like to take a few minutes of your time for the safety brief and emergency procedures, if we may. This shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes and all the information will also be available on ship channel three in your compartments.”

  Looking around, Evie saw nodding heads and continued, “We have Ganymede Corp escape pods, located port and starboard at the following stations.” She designated them by pointing a laser at the ship graphic showing on the front display, “These are totally automated, so there is no worry about having to have a crewman drive one, so to speak. They are designed to automatically eject, then navigate to the nearest habitable planet or station.”

  Changing the wall display, she brought up a soft EVA suit. “These are available in every space, and they’re one size fits all. If you get an alarm, you’ve got about a minute, depending on which space you’re in, to don one.” Blowing up the display, she continued, “Standard step in model, auto-closure tabs, and attached soft helmet. Sixty minute standalone air supply.” Rotating the display, she pointed to a plug set on the side of the suit. “O2 hookup, comms hookup, battery charger. Each compartment has a double hose connection in the overhead and one by the hatch.” Spinning the diagram around, she showed the pouch on the other side of the suit, “Sixty feet of collapsible hose. Run it around the front or back, hook up the length needed and leave the rest in the pouch. Any questions?”

  Hearing no questions, she said, “If you will excuse me, I need to go drive the bus. If at any time you have questions, feel free to ask one of the crew. We are not a passenger cruise liner, so the amenities may be lacking for those of you used to that mode of travel, but we are a safe ship, and we will get you to Star Center on time, deity of your choice permitting.”

  As she turned to leave, Fargo watched her get approached by an older Hilbornite female, dripping jewelry and prestige, and saw Evie’s tail go almost rigid, with just the tip lashing quietly. He turned to Nicole, “Everything stowed?”

  Nicole had seen the byplay and replied, “Yes, and I want to get out of range before those two go at it. I’ve seen two Hilbornites fight, and tooth and nail doesn’t begin to describe it!”

  ***

  The ship was still accelerating when the all clear was given and Fargo started unstrapping from the bunk. Cautiously letting his shields down, he probed tentatively for other people, thoughts and moods. He felt a mishmash of relief, with a few worried thoughts, but the only mind he felt clearly was that of Nicole, as she unstrapped and headed to the fresher.

  Quickly locking his mind down again, he gingerly got up, checked that nothing was loose or a danger, then hit the fresher himself. Going to the hatch, he dilated it and stepped into the passage way just as Nicole opened her hatch. “Coffee?” he asked.

  Nicole smiled, “Is there an extra charge for it?”

  Fargo laughed, “Not on here. They have the same autochef I used in the military, and it doesn’t charge extra for coffee, or whatever it is that they substitute.”

  Nicole looked at her wrist comp, “Which lounge?”

  Fargo said, “Well, the crew lounge is right here. Why walk any further than we have to?”

  Nicole replied, “Because I am going to need exercise. But for now, crew lounge and coffee works.” She turned, oriented herself and strolled next door to the crew lounge. Looking around, she saw that it was almost empty and Klang, sitting at a table, was the only occupant.

  Fargo followed and headed for the autochef, dialing up his coffee blend. As he waited, he saw Nicole dial up something rather complicated, including coffee, milk and foam. Picking up his bulb and shaking his head, he went over to what he considered his table from the last cruise, and flopped down, nodding to Klang in the process.

  Nicole followed, and he noted she sat where she could see both Klang and the hatch. He sensed a wariness rising, overlaid with worry. He chose not to probe, instead sitting in silence and enjoying his coffee.

  He finished his bulb about the time Nicole did, and finally broke the silence, “What was that?”

  Nicole smiled, “An old European drink that’s been around for centuries. It’s called a cappuccino.”

  “A what?”

  “Cappuccino, it’s coffee, real milk, and milk foam, with real sugar, chocolate, and cinnamon. The few places I’ve ever seen it advertised, it has always had at least a twenty credit upcharge!”

  Fargo shook his head, “Nope, I’ll stick with the straight stuff.”

  Moments of Terror

  The days melded one into the other, as the ship trundled across space toward Star Center. After two tries at eating with the other passengers, Fargo and Nicole had adopted similar routines--eating in the crew mess, exercising, and using the VR sims every day. They almost never interacted with the other passengers, much to Fargo’s relief, but Nicole really didn’t interact wi
th him either. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he tamped down any thoughts on his attraction to her.

  Nicole seemed to be less inclined to interact with anyone as the days went by, and her worries ramped up, causing her to be even pricklier. The only time he’d seen her laugh was on the third day, when Evie joined them for lunch and Nicole had asked who the other Hilbornite was.

  Evie’s hair had stood up, and she literally hissed before getting herself back under control, “That bitch is one of my great-aunts. She claims I have sullied the entire clan’s reputation by being a starship pilot, and I deserve to be cut off from the clan. She called me a vacuous disease ridden whore, only fit for space after I told her I liked my job!”

  Nicole almost spit her food out in amazement, then said, “I’m afraid I would have slapped her into the middle of the next galaxy for that! Who the hell does she think she is?”

  Evie shrugged, “Apparently she is chief surgeon of Hilborn Center.”

  Nicole asked, “So… Important? Yes?”

  Evie chuckled ruefully, “She is the highest of the high in medical circles. She is touring the Rimworld planets, collecting medical specimens and disease vector data to update the galactic data base.”

  Nicole asked with a laugh, “Are you sure she isn’t the vector?”

  Evie burst out with a laugh, fur laying down smoothly, “Possibly!”

  Nicole mumbled, “Still a bitch, though.” Evie smiled and squeezed Nicole’s hand quickly, as she got up to resume her piloting duties.

  ***

  Fargo’s wrist comp pinged, bringing him out of a dead sleep. He started muzzily at it. CAPTAIN FARGO TO THE BRIDGE IMMEDIATELY.

  Sitting up, he heard it ping again, and he hit it simultaneously with replying, “On the way.” Pulling his shipsuit on, he shoved his feet into his boots, quickly fastened them, and headed for the hatch. Niceties like combed hair and brushed teeth could wait, if the captain wanted to see him now.

  Three minutes later, Fargo approached the bridge hatch and watched it dilate as he stepped quickly through, “You wanted to see me, Captain?”

  Captain Jace glanced at Fargo and motioned him to the jump seat to his left, “Yes I did, Captain. What would be your response if you knew we were about to be attacked by pirates, or brigands, or Traders?”

  Scanning around the bridge, Fargo didn’t see anyone but Captain Jace and Evie, and nothing screaming red or any blaring alarms, “Uh, depends on capability. And size. And options… Can we run? Maybe outrun them? Shit, I don’t know. I’m a ground pounder, not a space…”

  Captain Jace turned to face him, “So if you had those answers, would you fight?”

  Fargo scrubbed his face, “Oh hell yes. Anything is better than dying on our knees.”

  Captain Jace turned back, “The captain agrees. We fight.” Suddenly the bridge screens transformed, with feeds showing an older destroyer with one missile door open, as weapons availability popped onto another screen, and a disembodied voices sounded on the bridge.

  “Sensors, remote feed indicates Dumont class destroyer GP Epsilon. Last in service 2804. Struck from rolls in 2815. Last known at breaker’s yard, Arcturus. EMCON at this time.”

  A second voice said, “Tracking. Target estimated 1,500,000 miles. No indication of shields at this time.”

  Fargo looked around in amazement, “What?”

  Captain Jace held up a hand, saying, “Weaps, authorized, prep exciter. Standby for deployment.”

  A third voice said, “Weapons tight, available weapons VM-133 medium range missiles, bays 3 and 4, passive tracking initialized. Counter missile battery spinning up, tubes 1 and 3. Dorsal needle lasers up and up, internal power only, stowed. Request power shift to prep exciter.”

  “Approved.”

  “Comms. Incoming message from target, six second delay. Screen?”

  Captain Jace replied, “Main screen.”

  The main screen lit with a head and shoulders shot of a grizzled captain with a backdrop of the Galactic Patrol appeared.

  The captain said, “Unknown ship, this is GalPat Destroyer Guernsey. You are ordered to cut power, coast, drop all shields, and standby for boarding inspection. Failure to follow these directions will force us to fire on you.”

  Captain Jace said, “Comms, record for outgoing, character five. Break. Captain this is Nuevo Frisco out of Altair Four. You should be copying our beacon. We are a Galactic Consortium member, why are we being stopped? We will protest this. Break. Send it.”

  Fargo’s jaw dropped as he saw what appeared to be an old man with a fragile voice standing in front of a shabby logo deliver the captain’s message over tight beam. Captain Jace turned to him, “Target is about one point one million miles out. My intent is to fire when he reaches half a million miles, which should be in… twenty-four minutes at max closure rate.”

  Fargo asked, “But how… What… How do you know what is following us? What is this ship?”

  Captain Jace’s feral grin was followed by a distinctly predatory look as he scanned the screens. “We were followed through the last transit point. This area is a so-called dead space, with no habitable planets. We dropped a recon drone a few hours after we cleared the boundary, and that’s what you see on screen one. It’s an FTL unit, so we’re getting real time updates. It’s tail chasing now, in the destroyer’s baffles. The data base we accessed is the GalPat database, and it’s up to date. Guernsey exists, but she’s in the yards at Earth four. Weapons? Yes, we have a few. We have limited offensive and defensive capability.”

  “You still haven’t said what this ship is.”

  “Simply put, we don’t exist. We can be anything we want to be, outside of a direct visual scan.”

  Fargo’s mind whirled, and he wondered what in hell was going on. “You don’t exist? Then what the hell am I standing on or rather sitting on? You’re not making… sense…”

  Captain Jace turned to face Fargo again, “Hyderabad doesn’t ring a bell does it?”

  Mystified Fargo shook his head, “No, should it?”

  Captain Jace replied, “Well, if you were a student of Earth’s early naval history, it would, or should. There was only one purpose-built Q-ship commissioned by the British in the First World War, almost a thousand years ago. The Hyderabad. She was a 600-ton vessel, launched in 1917, with a very shallow draft to allow torpedoes to pass under the ship. She was armed with hidden guns and torpedo tubes to allow her to sink German U-boats.”

  “So… Wait, you’re a…”

  A voice sounded, “Incoming comms, main screen in three.”

  The same grizzled captain, now almost smirking popped on screen, “Your decision is a good one, Captain. You have nothing to fear as long as your papers are in order.”

  “Answer required?” The phantom voice asked.

  “Negative,” Captain Jace replied. Turning to Fargo again, he said, “Before you ask, no, GalPat doesn’t know we exist. No, they didn’t approve our mission. But we are the good guys.”

  Fargo stewed for a few minutes as the range closed, and he wondered, Have I gone crazy? Jace and Evie seemed to be perfectly content to let this… this apparent pirate close to a range of a half million miles, where they planned to kill it. No questions asked, they are just going to kill it. They aren’t even excited. And I’m the only one… I wonder if they’ve even told the crew… Aren’t they supposed to do something like go to battle stations? What about the passengers?

  “Um, Captain, shouldn’t you at least alert the crew and passengers?” Fargo asked.

  Captain Jace grinned again, “Oh the crew already knows. The passengers? Well, if we fail to kill this bastard, there will either be twenty minutes to get them off in the pods, probably to be shot out of space, or the Epsilon will just blow us away. Either way, it doesn’t much matter. If we kill it, then the passengers don’t even need to know.”

  Fargo shook his head, “But…”

  Voice one said, “Sensors acquired passive laser targeting. Up on screen two.
Passive track input and gen track now on screen. Four minutes to five hundred thousand mile engagement range,” a disembodied voice said.

  Captain Jace said, “Weaps, cleared to deploy dorsal lasers in three minutes thirty seconds.”

  Another disembodied voice answered, “Weapons, aye!” Fargo opened his mind to try to figure out what Captain Jace or Evie was thinking, but he didn’t feel or sense anything. Opening further, he felt Nicole up moving around and wondering what was going on. Reaching out further, he could sense some low level emotions among the passengers, but he didn’t sense a single crewmember. Anywhere…

  A rising groan raised the hairs on the back of Fargo’s neck, as something in the ship came to life. It thrummed for a few seconds as the pitch rose, then seemed to lock into a rumbling growl. Looking around, Fargo expected some kind of reaction from either Jace or Evie, but neither even seemed to notice. How can they be so calm? Something… Needs… Ah shit. There isn’t anything that can be done. How do the spacers deal with this? Not knowing… Or knowing and having to wait to see what’s happening.

  Two minutes later, a red countdown window popped up on the tracking screen, along with what Fargo recognized as targeting data that seemed to be constantly refining. “Weaps, status?” snapped Captain Jace.

  What Fargo was now thinking of as voice three replied, “Exciters preloaded, super caps ready, power shunt standing by to deliver required power.”

  As the countdown reached thirty seconds, screen three switched to external views in split screen and showed upper and lower panels opening and what must be lasers extending outside the hull.

  Captain Jace said calmly, “Weaps, it’s all yours fire at will, target destroyer’s open missile tube forward.”

  As the countdown hit zero, the voice said, “Lasers firing.” Fargo heard a groaning sound increase in pitch, rising to nearly a scream, as the mechanical voice continued, “9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Cease fire.” There was a ‘ting’ and the loud noises stopped almost immediately, as Fargo sat mystified at what he’d witnessed.