A Galaxy Unknown

by Thomas DePrima

  The small freighter convoy, flanked on either side by a magnificent new SC battleship, entered orbit around the planet Obotymot forty-eight days after departing Periseras. Not a single vessel had been DeTect'ed during the voyage. That fact in itself was normally reason for mild celebration, but knowledge that it was most likely owed to the destruction of almost all Raider warships operating in the deca-sector put a smile on everyone's face and extra spring in their steps. By now every individual aboard the six ships knew the relevant facts about the destruction of Raider-One, and an expanding palisade of elaborated facts about Jenetta's role in the event was arising as the tale was exposited with every discussion.

  Jenetta knew practically every square meter of the Prometheus by the time they reached Obotymot and really did think of it as her ship. During the voyage, she'd spent much of her time wandering around, exploring, solving little problems, and resolving disputes. She felt that her ship could not have been more aptly named, as Prometheus was the Greek God in mythology known for his rebellious actions against injustice and abuse of power. According to Greek Mythology, Zeus had his servants chain Prometheus to a rock on the mountain Caucasus after Prometheus gave fire to mankind, but Chiron the Centaur, and Hercules eventually saved him. The ancient Greeks credited Prometheus as being mainly responsible for the survival of mankind. Jenetta saw parallels in the former imprisonment of the current crew, and their freedom from the abuses perpetrated by the powerful Raider forces with the destruction of their base.

  "We're in geosynchronous orbit above Vkattch, the planet's capital city, Captain," the astrogator said as the helmsman completed the maneuver. "The other ships are in line behind us with about five kilometers of separation."

  "Thank you, gentlemen. Mr. Beckens, notify the Chiron to linkup with us using our bow airlocks."

  "Aye, Captain," the com operator said.

  Initially, the former prisoners had worn Raider uniforms from the ship's stores, just to have something that fit properly. But after the abusive treatment at the hands of the Raiders, no one cherished wearing clothing that reminded them of the guards or the detention center. So during the first few days of the journey, a former prisoner who had once been a tailor, with assistance from the former female captives, began dying and reconstructing Raider uniforms to look like Space Command issue. Except for a lack of rank insignia, the bridge appeared to be manned entirely by Space Command personnel. Only Jenetta, Captain Yates, Lt. Commander Michaels, Doctor Erikson, and Gunny wore rank insignia. The people handling duties normally handled by officers, wore unadorned officer uniforms, and the others wore either noncom or enlisted personnel uniforms.

  "Captain, there's an entire fleet of space tugs coming up from the surface," Kilgore said.

  "Put it on the front viewscreen."

  The image on the monitor immediately changed from a forward-looking view of space to an image provided by sensors located on the keel of the ship. Dozens upon dozens of tugs were climbing towards the convoy. The planet far below them looked a bit like an Earth shrouded in heavy smog. Prior to the meteor strike, it had probably appeared very Earth-like, a beautiful blue planet with large landmasses of green and tan, and white swirling cloud formations. It should again one day, once the atmosphere cleared.

  "They must have amassed every tug on the planet prior to our arrival," Jenetta said. "Well, we knew they were desperate for the supplies. With that fleet of tugs, and the others from the freighters, they'll have all thirty kilometers of cargo sections moved down to the planet in a couple of days."

  "Lt. Sabella is launching all tugs from the Vordoth, Captain," Beckens, the com operator, said.

  ‘Good for Gloria,' Jenetta thought to herself. "Let's launch our own two tugs," she said aloud. "I'm sure we have a few tug jockeys among the temporary crews in Prometheus and Chiron that will be glad to help out. Pass the word to Captain Yates and then to engineering."

  "Aye, Captain," Beckens said.

  Jenetta observed the freight activity for the rest of her watch. When Lt. Commander Michaels arrived for the second watch, she turned over control of the bridge and walked to her quarters to freshen up before continuing on to the mess hall.

  During the infancy of space travel, tiny, cramped cylinders had been adequate for trips of fleeting duration, but for long voyages, people needed space and privacy. It seemed that with each new generation of ships, larger quarters and additional creature comforts had been added. It made perfect sense when you realized that people were aboard ship for months and years at a time without having an opportunity to go dirt-side or even making planet-fall. The captain's quarters aboard the Prometheus were the most spacious that Jenetta could imagine. They contained a large bedroom with a private bath, an enormous sitting room with several sofas and half a dozen chairs, a half bath, a large office containing a desk and conference table, a dining room capable of seating twelve, and a private galley, plus attached quarters for his steward. Although true that she hadn't previously had occasion to visit the private quarters of any ship captains, she couldn't imagine that any would be larger, or even that anyone would desire larger quarters. Even the quarters intended for the most junior officers were comparatively more spacious and luxurious than her quarters aboard the Hokyuu had been. The quarters for the ratings were naturally the smallest. They had to share a bedroom with three other ratings, but at least they had a private half bath. Once they made petty officer, they'd rate a semi-private bedroom with half bath. Chief petty officers rated private quarters and full baths.

  Jenetta had moved into the captain's quarters on the first day, after removing all of the clothing and personal effects of the individual who had originally occupied the rooms. He hadn't been on the ship when they took control, and Jenetta suspected that he might have been killed when the space station blew up, but she had his personal possessions packed up and saved, just in case Space Command ever found out where to send them. Lt. Commander Michaels had moved into the first officer's quarters, located right next to Jenetta's, and similarly packed up the personal possessions of Commander Pretorious that he found there.

  The crew complement aboard the Prometheus was so small that one mess hall adequately filled their needs. Jergen, the cook from the captured freighter Nova Dawn, Captain Starnos' ship, took over the galley on the first day and made it his own. Ably assisted by Delilah, the girl he had forcibly dragged into the food elevator rather than leaving her behind, and most of the other former women captives, he prepared all of the food for the mess hall. Rebecca had wholeheartedly endorsed getting the women involved and feeling useful again.

  Practically everyone not on duty at 1800 was already there when Jenetta arrived for dinner. After selecting her food, she joined her usual meal companions, Rebecca, Gunny, and Leah.

  "I love that red dress, Leah," Jenetta said as soon as she had taken her seat. "Is it new?"

  "Thank you, Jen. Yes, it is; I just completed it today. It's Carel's favorite color."

  "Carol?"

  "Yes, Carel," she said, pointing to Gunny.

  Jenetta looked towards Gunny, who just looked down at the table, his cheeks slightly flushed.

  "It's spelled C-A-R-E-L," he said sullenly. "I was named after my great grandfather, Carel Francois Rondell."

  Jenetta and Rebecca just nodded solemnly, sensitive to Gunny's discomfort, and exhibiting great control by not smiling. Of course, Jenetta found it necessary to clench her jaw, not because of the name, but simply because of Gunny's displayed embarrassment.

  Once the uniforms for the crewmen had been completed, the former female captives had used their free time to make clothing items for themselves, such as blouses, skirts, dresses, and undergarments. Jenetta was glad to see them busy, and happy with the progress they had made so far in recovering from the imprisonment and brainwashing. Doctor Erikson worked with the women every day, doing her best to help them adjust to life after captivity. Upon reaching a GSC base, there would be a plethora of trained specialists to continue with each
of the women.

  * * *

  On the third day following their arrival at Obotymot, Jenetta traveled down to the planet's surface. She was horrified at the devastation that she found. The climate had changed significantly, and although it was now summer in Vkattch, it felt like mid-winter. The leaf-less trees left the countryside looking bleak and naked, and the land appeared almost barren of life. The dead grasses and ground covers were losing their grip on the soil, allowing a sort of fine-grained dust to be carried on every breeze. The loss of the top soil would make recovery that much more difficult.

  Before the meteor strike, the earth-like planet had supported a prosperous, agrarian society, but afterwards the population had gathered in vast centralized communities like the large cities on Earth, while the former small farming communities became virtual ghost towns. The system's sun was a G3 yellow star with a temperature of 5,580 K, but on the surface of Obotymot, it was dark all the time and a filtration mask was necessary equipment. At noon, the dust still remaining in the upper atmosphere made it appear like dusk on Earth. Every process ever employed for rainmaking and weather control was being tried as they attempted to ‘scrub' the atmosphere clean of airborne dirt and dust pollutants. Large ships with enormous funnels, normally used in space to collect hydrogen for fuel, had been converted to collect dirt and dust. They constantly dipped low into the atmosphere and crisscrossed the sky, sucking in pollution and expelling filtered air. It was difficult to believe that they could make a difference given the enormity of the project, but it was estimated that the planet would have already begun to enter an ice age if not for their valiant efforts.

  The planetary leaders, grateful beyond words for the arrival of the convoy, insisted on thanking Jenetta for saving their supply ships and arranged a number of special events in her honor. The sudden abundance of food supplies had put everyone in a festive mood. In obvious deference to Jenetta, everyone that she met, or even saw, had adopted her skin coloration while she was on the planet. She wondered if she would ever see a Nordakian in his or her true state. She did however have a firsthand opportunity to observe what feelings of elation could do to Nordakians. Everywhere she went she saw the rippling of colors across the skin of happy people. And each time she was introduced at an event, the flashing became so intense that it was difficult to focus on any one individual. It was as if an entire Mardi Gras crowd, dressed in brightly colored costumes, were all whirling as fast as they could.

  After the second large State dinner over a span of just several days, Jenetta explained that she had to report to Space Command. The leaders of the colony reluctantly cancelled further activities and conveyed their good-byes.

  * * *

  Reduced to half its former size for the final leg of its journey to Higgins Space Command base, the small convoy left orbit the following day. Although they hadn't DeTect'ed a single vessel during their trip to Obotymot, they would maintain their vigilant surveillance of surrounding space as their trip continued. Jenetta had requested that Space Command not notify her family when she first contacted them from the Vordoth, and she debated whether to send a message to her parents now. She wanted to let them know that she was alive and well, but there was still a danger. While their appearance was formidable, the ships were so understaffed that she feared they couldn't put up much of a fight if confronted by hostile forces. She decided to postpone sending the message until she was sure that they were out of danger.

  * * *

  Sixty days out from the planet Vinnia, Jenetta finally sent another message to Space Command. It would be her first message to Higgins since the attack on the Vordoth, and she decided to send it from the bridge of the Prometheus so that Space Command would actually see the ship's bridge. It would take hours for the message to reach the Space Command Base and then many more hours before a reply was received.

  Jenetta sat in the command chair with her back ramrod straight and said, "This is Jenetta Carver, serial number 3974A32, on the bridge of the GSC battleship Prometheus GSC-B368. Following a third battle with Raiders, I was able to follow them back to their base, where I discovered two new SC battleships being readied for operations against Space Command and private commerce. I was captured, but managed to escape after a month in captivity. Assisted by prisoners that I liberated from the Raider detention center, I seized the Chiron and the Prometheus, and successfully fled the Raider base. We're currently en route to Higgins Space Command Base at Vinnia, accompanied by the freighter, Vordoth. Our estimated time of arrival is 60 days from now. Jenetta Carver, Captain of the Prometheus, message complete."

  * * *

  Come in, Captain," Rear Admiral Brian Holt, base commander of Higgins Space Command Base, said to Captain Richard Dommler as he appeared in the doorway of the Admiral's spacious office in the headquarters section of the base. "Commander Kanes and I were just discussing the message from this person identifying herself as Jenetta Carver, Captain of the Prometheus. Have a seat." Even seated behind his enormous desk, Holt presented an imposing image. The seventy-one year-old admiral's once jet-black hair may have turned grey, but he was physically fit, and still as sharp as they come.

  "Thank you, sir," Dommler said as he eased him-self down into one of two overstuffed chairs that faced the Admiral. Commander Keith Kanes of SCI occupied the other. Dommler was still breathing a little heavy, having been summoned to come to the Admiral's office immediately. When a two-star admiral summons you to come immediately, you hurry. Watching the Admiral, Dommler reminded himself that he had to get to the gym more often than once every couple of weeks. At just five-foot eight-inches, he would never be the imposing figure that the admiral was, but being only fifty-seven years old, he shouldn't be breathing as laboriously as he currently was from just hurrying through the base.

  "Please continue, Commander Kanes," Admiral Holt said.

  Looking at Dommler with piercing steel-grey eyes, the five-foot eleven-inch officer said, "I was saying that Space Command Intelligence believes this to be a ploy by the Raiders to get close enough to the base to take us out in one lightning attack while our guard in down. They went to a lot of trouble, and great risk, to steal those two ships, so they must have had this planned for some time. Those ships are the most powerful spacecraft in the known galaxy, and I don't mind telling you that I've had a lot of sleepless nights thinking about them having fallen into Raider hands. If the Raiders could knock out this base, they'd have the run of this entire deca-sector. We've been the only thing keeping them even moderately in check."

  "What about that message that we received from Carver earlier, when she was aboard the Vordoth?" Holt asked.

  "We believe they were just priming the pump, sir. She said that she'd been asked to take command of the freighter after the captain was killed. Admiral, no first officer that I know of would just turn over command of his or her ship to a mere ensign, even if the first officer had no formal military training. It just doesn't wash."

  "I tend to agree with you," Holt said, "but the serial number checks out. It was the one assigned to Ensign Carver; and her likeness matches the file photos. She also used a valid GSC encryption code for her transmissions."

  "The serial number could be obtained easily enough, sir, from records available to the general public. Ensign Carver died aboard the Hokyuu eleven years ago and the accident investigation files were widely distributed. I'm sure her serial number is listed in several places within official documents released to the public under disclosure laws. And the physical appearance of this woman could have been altered easily enough with modern surgical techniques. The encryption code was a valid code, but it was over ten years old. It could have been broken years ago and we just never knew it. For that matter, if Carver did get out of the Hokyuu, they may have found her escape pod and taken the data ring from her corpse. That's one of the reasons that we retire even ‘unbroken' encryption codes every year. They certainly did their homework when they prepared this operation. The Raider organization has some brilliant
criminal minds.

  "SCI believes that the Vordoth was captured by Raiders and is now also crewed by members of that crime organization. It's the consensus of my section's staff that we'll be attacked as soon as the three ships get within energy weapon range of the station. The freighter alone is carrying the firepower of a Space Command light destroyer and it would be suicide to allow them close enough to Higgins for their laser arrays to become effective. According to our records, the Vordoth also has four torpedo tubes.

  "I mean, really sir, how probable is it that such a junior officer could organize a group of escaped civilian captives into commando squads able to overpower the entire Raider crews of both stolen battleships, then command the operation of Space Command's most sophisticated vessels? Especially someone with such a poor record in command and control exercises as the real Carver had during her Academy years? Our files indicate that Carver was ideally suited for a life in the service, simply because it saved her from having to decide which clothes to wear each morning."

  Admiral Holt nodded and grimaced. "Yes, I read her complete file. She was extremely intelligent, but apparently equally indecisive. Well, we have our normal protection force of five warships in port. I'll issue orders to put them on alert. I'll also summon all other ships within thirty-light-years to return to the base immediately. If the Prometheus, Chiron, or Vordoth come within a billion miles of this base, we'll show them that Space Command knows how to deal with Raiders."

  "But, sir," Captain Dommler said, "what if the message is genuine? I realize that it's a million to one long shot, but there is a possibility. Tests have indicated that a human in prime physical condition, as a young Space Command officer would be, could potentially survive in a stasis chamber for as long as forty-two years, if the pod's power source continues to function properly. Can we just destroy them without warning?"