by Doug Farren
"The interaction between normal space and the Kauffman stardrive is extremely complex. Normal space is bent by the gravitational fields of stars and planets. This bending creates a stress which affects how much power is required to create the drive fields. The stardrive does not have the power to overcome the bending of space if the ship is too close to a large gravitational field. The sub-light drive is used to move away from the stressed area so the stardrive can be activated.”
“I learned in school that sublight engines were kind of like a stardrive,” the youngster said, beaming with pride that he had something to contribute.
"That’s right!” Tom said, flashing the kid a smile. “Not many people realize that the principle behind the Kauffman stardrive is the same as that of the sub-light drive. Both use energy fields. The difference is that normal space is not bent by a sub-light drive which is why the drive cannot be used to exceed the velocity of light."
Tom had already hit his self-imposed limit on alcohol intake but didn’t want to give the impression that the free drink someone had provided was not appreciated. He picked up the glass and took a very tiny sip. There was a fairly large crowd gathered around their table now. Someone else standing nearby asked, "What would happen if the drive fields failed while we are traveling at faster-than-light velocities?"
Tom shrugged his shoulders and replied, "We instantly stop and drop out of stardrive. Normal space will collapse back upon the ship and we would have the exact same relativistic velocity as we had before activating the stardrive."
A grumbling in his stomach reminded him that it was past his normal dinner time. Picking up his drink, he excused himself from the crowd and made his way to the dining room. After dinner, he returned to his room, took a shower, and then sat down in front of the computer terminal. Inserting his identicard into the machine, he delved into the complex legal system that governed the Alliance.
Several hours later, his head swimming with legal jargon, he turned off the terminal and went to bed.
* * * * *
Tom awoke with a start. He lay awake, trying to remember what had caused him to wake so quickly. The room was quiet; he could hear nothing unusual. That was it! It wasn't what he heard, rather it was what he could no longer feel. The characteristic deep throb of an operating stardrive was gone. Granted, civilian ships were designed to minimize such distractions to their passengers, but a stardrive’s vibrations could not be completely canceled.
The dim glow of a nightlight guided him to the bathroom. While washing his hands he felt a tiny shudder run through the frame of the ship. It was followed a few seconds later by two more. Tom instantly became alarmed; a shudder transmitted through the frame of such a massive ship could only mean one thing—something had hit them!
Ignoring his dripping hands, he ran to the computer terminal and woke it up. "Computer! Report ship's status."
"The ship has experienced an unexpected interruption of the stardrive," the computer replied in a calming voice. “We apologize for the—”
“Stop!” Tom commanded. “Access my passenger record. I am a Peacekeeper. Tell me what is going on.”
Tom wasn’t sure if his request would work and was relieved when the computer dropped its calming tone and replied, "The ship has encountered what appears to be a gravity mine. It has disrupted the stardrive field. The crew is working on resetting the drive system."
Tom was throwing his clothes on while the computer talked. “What about the impacts I felt a moment ago?” he asked.
“Three high velocity impacts from unknown objects have been registered. None penetrated the shield.”
“I have military combat experience,” Tom said, as he finished dressing. “I would like to be escorted to the bridge.”
There was a short delay before the computer replied, “A steward has been dispatched to your cabin Peacekeeper Wilks. He will arrive in a few minutes.”
A chime announced the steward’s arrival. A young Shandarian male was waiting outside. He had a surprised look on his face as he said, “I was told to escort Peacekeeper Wilks to the bridge. Is he here?”
Realizing the steward was probably expecting to see a fully cybernetic Peacekeeper, Tom brandished his identicard and said, “I am Peacekeeper Wilks.”
The steward took one look at the card and said, “Please follow me.”
They took off down the passageway at a fast walk. Stopping in front of an elevator, the steward pressed the call button, then said, “I thought all Peacekeepers were cyborgs.”
Before Tom could reply, the doors to the elevator opened. He delayed his response as the elevator said, "Please state your destination".
"Bridge level," the steward said.
The elevator scanned the occupant’s identicards. "Access to a restricted area is granted," it said, as the doors closed.
“I’m actually on my way to the academy,” Tom explained.
“Then how can you be a Peacekeeper?”
“From what I’ve been told,” Tom admitted, “you’re a Peacekeeper as soon as you’ve been accepted into the academy. Came as quite a surprise to me.”
“Me too,” the steward replied.
The doors opened to reveal a very different part of the ship. Instead of plush carpeting, the floor of the passageway in this section of the ship was a hard, steel deck. The ceiling was not lined with smooth, gently glowing panels; here, there was a tangle of instrumentation cables and conduits running between two rows of lights.
“Any idea what’s going on?” Tom asked as they continued their journey.
“The bridge has been pretty quiet. I’m just a—”
The ship shuddered like a car that had just driven over a set of railroad tracks. The steward stopped and looked at Tom, his eyes were wide with concern. “What was that?”
“That was an impact,” Tom replied. “Let’s go,” he urged.
The door to the bridge was clearly labeled. “I will leave you here,” the steward told him.
The Captain, standing next to the seated communications operator, turned his head and caught Tom's eye as he stepped over the threshold of the airtight door. “Who are you?” he demanded.
"Peacekeeper Wilks,” Tom replied showing his identicard. Glancing around, he noted the concerned look on the faces of the bridge crew, including the Captain. Several alarms and multiple warning lights were flashing on the various panels. “I’m also a military veteran. Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
Chapter 6
The man seated at the helm turned around and said, “Captain, I can update Mr. Wilks if that’s okay.”
The Captain looked at Tom and said, “As long as you have no objections.”
“None at all,” Tom replied, walking toward the helm.
His travel path took him behind the Captain. As he passed, he heard the coms operator say, “Still no reply Sir. I don’t get it.”
The helmsman extended his hand and said, “The name’s Trenith, Plen Trenith. I’m also a veteran.”
Shaking hands, Tom replied, “Tom Wilks. What the hell’s going on?”
“I think we’ve run into an old battle scene,” Trenith explained. “There must have been an active gravity mine still in the area. You felt the impacts?”
“I did.”
“The whole area is filled with debris. I’m surprised we haven’t been hit with more junk.”
While Trenith talked, Tom scanned the unfamiliar control boards. As far as he could tell, both the stardrive and the sublight drive were off line. Due to the incredible vastness of space, the odds of them coming across this old battle site were astronomical and, if the cargoliner’s navigational charts were up to date, should never have happened.
“What’s going on with the propulsion system?” Tom asked. The status of the drive system was more important than how they had ended up in this situation. “The mine would not have affected the sublight drive. We should be maneuvering out of the debris.”
Trenith shook his head. “Thi
s is a civilian ship. To save cost, the sublight engine is an integral part of the stardrive. It also takes a lot longer to reset following a drop-out. Engineering should have it back shortly.”
“This shouldn’t have happened,” Tom moved on to the next point. “You should have picked up the debris on your sensors in time to avoid going through it. Come to think of it, you shouldn’t have been anywhere near this area. Are your charts up to date?”
“They are,” Trenith replied, nodding his head. “This mess doesn’t show up on the charts and civilian sensors can’t tell the difference between an asteroid and a dead ship. We would have sailed right by if that damn mine hadn’t dropped us out of stardrive. But none of that really matters right now. What’s got me worried is this." He emphasized his last point by tapping his finger on another monitor.
Tom recognized it as a long-range display but it lacked the resolution of the military versions he was used to. Taking a closer look, he could see small pieces of debris as well as several larger ones drifting in the area near the ship. About 40,000 kilometers away was a much larger collection of objects.
Pointing to one of the icons, Trenith said, “That’s a ship. We didn’t see it until we dropped out of stardrive. It was very close to the debris but moved away when we appeared. It’s not transmitting an ID code and it refuses to acknowledge our hails.”
* * * * *
“Status?” the Captain said, from his command chair.
Spinning around so he could face the Captain, the tactical operator replied, “It’s a civilian cargoliner of Shandarian manufacture. Their long-range sensors are of low resolution and as long as we don’t move too far from the wreckage they won’t be able to identify us.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes Sir. Even if they could, would it matter?”
The Captain rubbed his forehead then looked at his fingertips. Frowning, he wiped the oil off on his pants and said, “No…it wouldn’t. We have strict orders concerning civilian vessels.”
“Captain,” the communications operator began. “They’re continuing to hail us. Ignoring them might cause them to question who we are.”
“Why are they still here?” the Captain asked. “The gravity mine lost power three minutes ago.”
“It’s a civilian ship,” the tactical station replied. “They’re probably still trying to reset their stardrive.”
“Give me a text channel,” the Captain said, after a moment.
* * * * *
“I take it this civilian equipment can’t make out enough details for you to determine what type of ship it is?” Tom asked.
“Technically, no,” Trenith replied. “Whoever they are obviously knows we’re here and have chosen to remain silent. They know this is a civilian ship and as long as we don’t get too close we shouldn’t be able to identify them.”
There was a smirk on Trenith’s face that clearly indicated he was holding something back. “You think you can make them out?” Tom asked.
Trenith turned back around to his panel. “I can’t get nearly as good a resolution as military-grade equipment, but I think I can use a trick or two to tease some details out of this civilian junk.”
Tom looked over Trenith’s shoulder. It didn’t take him long to figure out what he was doing. “You’re running it through a phase interference filter! That’s military software,” Tom exclaimed.
“It’s been tweaked to run on a less powerful computer,” Trenith replied. “Call me paranoid, but I don’t like it when I can’t see things in detail.”
“Incoming transmission!” the communications operator practically shouted.
The Captain, who had been on his way back to his chair, stopped and quickly returned to the com station. Tom stepped over as well and read the message over the Captain’s shoulder.
ATTENTION CIVILIAN VESSEL! YOU HAVE ENTERED A CLASSIFIED MILITARY ZONE. YOU WILL LEAVE THIS AREA IMMEDIATELY. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN DETAINMENT OF YOUR VESSEL.
“Tell them we will be leaving momentarily,” the Captain said. “Tell them we’re still working on resetting our drive systems.”
“Got it!” Trenith announced, as the communications operator turned to comply.
Tom walked back over to the helm, his stomach knotting up and sweat breaking out on his upper lip as recognition hit him. The image displayed on the screen was blurry but was far better than the simple blob that had been displayed earlier. There was a brief delay as the software algorithm made another pass at the data then the image sharpened up a bit more.
Trenith moved closer to the display. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ship like that,” he said.
“I have,” Tom said, straightening up. Ignoring Trenith’s imploring look for more information, Tom walked over to the Captain who was now standing near the engineering console. “May I have a word?” he asked.
The Captain was a portly, middle-aged, Shandarian standing a few centimeters shorter than Tom. He looked like a man who had enjoyed an easy life. Tom thought he caught a flicker of annoyance in his expression as he turned around. “We’ll have the stardrive back on line in a few minutes,” the Captain said, thinking he was anticipating Tom’s question.
“That’s good news,” Tom replied, keeping the tone of his voice neutral. “I need to use your communications console for a moment.”
The Captain hesitated. Instead of complying with the request, he asked, “Do you have any idea who’s in that other ship?”
Tom did indeed have a possibility in mind but telling the Captain the truth would only make him more anxious. “We’ve accidentally encroached upon a military cleanup operation,” Tom lied. “Please expedite resetting the stardrive and allow me access to your communications console.”
The Captain chewed on his lower lip for a moment then turned to the communications operator and said, “Mr. Frith, give Peacekeeper Wilks your seat.”
As Tom sat down he said, “I am, or rather was, a communications specialist in the space force. This will only take a minute.”
Tom looked over the console and identified the controls he needed. He selected a channel then punched in a frequency. Knowing that the communications equipment in front of him was incapable of encrypting a message using even the simplest military protocol, he opted for the quickest and simplest way to get his message into the right hands. The frequency he selected was one used exclusively by the military. An unencrypted message would quickly be noticed.
But such a message would almost certainly be picked up by the other ship. Tom sat for a moment, fingers poised over the keyboard. A few seconds later, he typed out a short message. After boosting the power output as high as possible, he hit the transmit button.
Less than a minute later, the cargoliner was once again underway.
Two hours later, a deep space monitoring station located 8.3 light years away, was the first military installation to receive Tom’s message. Most of the station’s operations were automated and the small crew assigned to maintain it usually had very little to do. The station also acted as a communications relay. The computer received the signal and instantly realized it was unencrypted. Not knowing how to handle such traffic, it alerted the crew.
A Tholtaran maintenance technician had just finished replacing a faulty circuit card when the computer chimed for attention. After ensuring the card was fully seated, he slid his chair over to the terminal. “Rolsh!” he yelled, after reading the message that had appeared on the screen. “You’d better take a look at this.”
Rolsh was the senior technician assigned to the station and technically in charge of the four-person crew. Rolsh walked over, bent down, and read the message:
FROM: CIVILIAN CARGOLINER NIGHTGLIDER. GRAVITY MINE AMONG DEBRIS OF PAST BATTLE FORCED SHIP TO DROP OUT OF STARDRIVE. DEBRIS LOCATION: 263.173 - 015.820 - 65.091 - 8152. SHIP UNDAMAGED AND CONTINUING ON TO DESTINATION. REQUEST PROTOCOL S8. CN1 TOM WILKS, KOMODO DRAGON, 01-15-08-00-08-05-18-05.
“Computer,” Rolsh said into the air, �
��identify and display record of CN1 Tom Wilks assigned to the Komodo Dragon.”
A second monitor displayed a summary of Tom’s military record. “What do you make of it?” the first technician asked. “What’s protocol S8?”
“It’s a code word,” Rolsh harshly explained. “You should know that. It means the message was sent in the clear with another meaning hidden within.”
Rolsh’s head shifted back and forth as he looked for clues by comparing Tom’s military record with the message text. He talked quietly to himself, “Terran…Primary language, English…Recently detached from the Komodo Dragon after being accepted into the Peacekeeper academy…Date of service…Date detached…Service ID…Wait a minute! Computer, analyze the numeric string at the end of the message; utilize simple letter substitution based upon the English language.”
A voice instantly responded, “Message decoded. The message reads, ‘AOH here’.”
Rolsh suddenly became very animated. He sat down at the station and quickly brought up a star chart. After entering the location of the debris field a red dot appeared. Another command caused several blue ones to appear with condensed tactical data next to each. Rolsh looked at the display, then keyed a quick series of commands into the console. One of the blue dots turned yellow. “How old is that message?”
“About two hours. Who’s the AOH?”
Rolsh turned and looked at the technician. “Didn’t they teach you anything in military school? I’m not going to explain it to you. As soon as you’ve tested that circuit card go look it up yourself and then report the results of your education to me.”
* * * * *
“Priority message from outpost 8152,” the com-station announced.
The Captain looked at the message displayed on her monitor. Using the touch-screen, she highlighted the coordinates then dragged it over to an icon representing the helm. “Helm, alter course to the destination on your screen—maximum speed. Give me an ETA when you can.”
The Shandarian battleship made a quick course correction and then accelerated. “ETA is 14 hours,” replied the helm.
