by Will Crudge
“Th-thank you.” Darius’ cold expressionless face barely budged. He wasn’t used to kindness. In-fact, he thought, he remembered that he had never been given anything in his life aside from when he took ownership of his fighter. Today was filled with too many things he wasn’t used to.
Oddly enough, it didn’t even bother him… for once.
“Soooo, who’s your friend?” Kara’s tone accompanied a naughty smile and a raised eyebrow. She scanned the nude form that remained oblivious to anything that was taking place around her. Kara let out a slow whistle of approval and turned her head towards Darius. She cocked her hips to one side and put her arm on her waste. The big man believed his new employer was impressed with his choice of women. Then he caught Kara scanning him up and down as if she were taking stock of his own physical attributes.
“A neighbor, actually.” Darius tried to play it cool, but wasn’t totally confident he was pulling it off. “She decided I might need some companionship before I trekked across the stars.” He managed a seemingly confident smile.
“Do you need to get her up… and out of here… or say goodbye… or anything?” Kara’s question seemed like a probe into his relationship with his guest. He suspected her motives may be more than just casual.
“No.” Darius said with no emotion. “She’s a grown woman. She’s more than capable of seeing herself out and getting back home.”
“Very well!” Her face lit up slightly and she nodded in satisfaction. “Lead the way.” She gestured towards the door, and Darius stepped out into the hallway.
The two made their way to habitat docking area. Only a handful of his neighbors owned any type of small craft, so the empty storage bays tended to outnumber the occupied ones. Most of the other craft were an assortment of personal shuttles and a handful of small recreational vessels that didn’t even have life support systems. The smaller toy craft required pressure suits for their occupants, and had no real practical use.
They continued to walk silently passed the vacant storage bays, while they caught a glimpse of the occasional craft. Many looked to be in disrepair, while some appeared to have been abandoned for years.
“It’s sad, really.” Kara broke the silence. “Some of these little guys could be useful elsewhere.”
“Most people who live here can’t afford their own shuttle.” Darius responded without even turning his head. “The few that do have one, can’t afford to maintain one. Some of these have been here for generations. The first occupants of this habitat owned their apartments, but several centuries of wear and tear caught up to this one-time paradise. Previous owners sold out before their investment lost its viability, and the only way to keep up with repairs is to rent them out to dregs like me.”
Kara let the words soak in. She had always been told stories of the grand habitats that littered Sol’s heliosphere. Before interstellar colonization became so efficient with the advent of faster than light travel, Earth’s home solar system was the pinnacle of human achievement. Ring habitats that boasted their own atmosphere and ecosystems encircled planetary bodies and moons alike. It solved overpopulation problems, and allowed for life-extending medical achievements to have breathing room.
“So,” Gunnery Sergeant Darius broke her chain of thought. “Who, exactly is your employer? And who are we escorting?” His words came out as he stopped walking and took a half turn to meet her eyes with his.
“I work for…” She decided to match his conspicuous speech rhythm. “Independent Security Solutions. And we’ve been the primary security contractor for Unum Industries.”
“Unum? The human sphere’s largest arms manufacturer?” His face revealed an incredulous expression. Kara’s face remained unchanged, and almost professional despite her obvious outgoing nature.
“One and the same.” She now spoke with a seemingly rehearsed enthusiasm. “Although, we prefer to consider Unum to be more of a Defense Industry, not so much an arms manufacturer…”
The pair resumed their walk through the open storage bays. “Unum manufactured at least 70 percent of my armor, and all of my neural interface. They’ve built half of the Fleet’s warships and support craft. Every heavy weapon I’ve ever encountered had their stamp on at least some, in not all of the components thereof. Which leads me to my next question...” He slowed his gate to half speed as he seemed to be devoting most of his brain power to comprehending the mess he got himself into.
“I think I know what you’re going to ask.” Kara looked down as she matched his pace. She cracked a small smile that Darius could see in his enhanced peripheral vision.
“Do you?” Darius was still looking forward stone faced. Kara remained silent as she waited for it. “Why is it that the wealthiest entity in the entire human sphere is contracting out an inactive Soldier with a privately owned but sadly outdated fighter which is equipped with only standard civilian grade self-defense weaponry, to escort someone? Your security firm must have tens of thousands of qualified personnel, not to mention, a small fleet of law enforcement grade space craft? It just doesn’t make sense?”
“I got you. Believe me.” She said with an agreeable tone. “It will make a little more sense to you while we’re underway, and we can speak on a secured net. I’m not going to waste a perfectly good –and perfectly expensive- nanobot canister just to make this ghetto-ass storage bay secure enough to speak openly.”
Darius had no choice but to agree with her logic, but the pieces didn’t add up. “Speaking of underway… Where in the hell are we even going?”
“For now, just a quick hop over to Tangine Station. I trust you have enough juice in your tanks to make it on a full burn?”
“Yes, but- Tangine has a hyper gate… I can only assume we’re leaving the system?”
“Precisely!” Once we get queued up for the gate, I’ll transmit our destination coordinates and fill you in. Besides, we need to get your’90 topped off, and make sure you have enough provisions for the trip.”
“I agreed to this contract on the understanding that it will be all legal, and wouldn’t last more than a Sol standard month… The money is enough for me to live with more dignity than I have been for the past year. But to be clear, I am still a Fleet Soldier whether or not I am active or inactive. I am authorized to don this uniform and the armor I wear over it for private ventures, so long as they remain legal, morale, and don’t bring any unwanted attention to the Admiralty. My actions may not be monitored quite so strictly as if I were on an active status, but a daily data pulse will update my status and general activities. I still plan to beat the odds and get an active assignment one day.”
“No worries! My boss wouldn’t have recommended you just to destroy you… Or, for that matter, discredit your beloved fleet. Unum doesn’t want to alienate their biggest client!” She said with a wink.
Darius didn’t realize they had made it to his designated docking bay. They both stopped abruptly to take in the clean lines of the once mighty LRF-90 series craft. It was a sight Darius was always taken back by. It seemed like yesterday that he had taken ownership of her. It was out of the blue. Darius grew up as a ward of the state on a backwater habitat in the Sirius system. He never knew his family, thus had no family name to speak of. He was a young Corporal leading a fire team in the 367th Expeditionary Infantry Battalion, and was assigned to a heavy cruiser.
***
His Company had returned from a ship boarding exercise when he received a message from the Cargo Chief. It read
When he set his eyes on the smooth lines of this mythical craft, he knew there was a punch line coming. He had no known living family. He didn’t have any remaining ties to his dozens of reluctant foster homes. But he was awestruck by the sight before him.
“What is this, Master Sergeant?�
�� Darius could barely get the words out as he couldn’t look away from the partially covered work of art that rested before him.
“What!? You don’t know what this is?” Standing next to Darius, the Master Sergeant stood a clear 20 centimeters taller, and looked like he ate bullets and razors for breakfast. His gruff voice became clearer as he removed his cigar from his mouth. “This, my boy, is every man’s retirement dream. It’s an LRF-90. And this one is completely flight worthy! It’s beautiful, ain’t it?”
“It’s impressive… Gorgeous, even. But, what’s this about a delivery? Couldn’t it have been send to my birthing during mail call?”
“Are you completely dense, young man?” Zeff sounded like the typical salty Soldier who has miraculously avoided retirement or inactive status for several decades. “This is your delivery! And as much as I love looking at it, it’s taking up too damn much space on my deck!”
“This has got to be a joke!” The young Corporal was dumbfounded. “I have no family! And I damn sure don’t know anybody rich enough to spring a hot-rod like this as a surprise gift!”
“The manifest of the resupply ship was clear. This is for you. I’ve forwarded the ownership tokens to your personal file. It would seem you had some anonymous rich relative that sent it to you. These things are nearly impossible to buy. Most are inherited. My best guess is you had a very rich uncle somewhere out there that left it to you in their will. Not so good for him, but great for you… And a royal pain in my ass!”
Darius was speechless for a few moments, and then broke the silence. “So, what the hell do I do with it? I’m not rated to fly a fighter? At least not until my next assignment. I don’t have anywhere to put it!”
“Which is why it’s a pain in my ass! Every crew member is only allotted six cubic meters of personal storage outside of birthing… But, by regulation I have to make an exception to property of a crew member that inherited anything smaller than a troop carrying shuttle. So, you’re stuck with it. And my grouchy old ass has to accommodate your new toy.”
“Isn’t there a Will or legal document saying who left it to me if it’s an inheritance?”
“Sharp kid! No.” Zeff said with a grimace. “The transfer of ownership docs, and the fully paid tax receipts were all that came through. Doesn’t surprise me. Seems like the only documents that ever get lost in transmission are the ones that are most important.”
“But, why are you so sure it’s an inheritance? And why do you feel compelled to accommodate it?” Darius instantly realized he was opening his mouth when he shouldn’t, but he could never resist the impulse.
“For a sharp kid, you really are stupid! Do you think for a second, I would EVER make you get rid of something money almost can’t buy!? I drafted a certified memorandum and placed it in your record. The memorandum is in lieu of the legal docs. It’s enough to satisfy the regulations, and let you bring her wherever you go without worry.” Zeff let his leathery face surrender a wink.
***
“Earth to Darius!” Kara waved her hand in front of his face. Darius instantly realized he had completely zoned out. “She’s almost prettier than mine! –almost.” Kara gestured towards the adjoining bay, and towards another LRF-90 he hadn’t noticed before.
“That’s only the second time I’ve seen one that wasn’t a stripped down hull!” The Gunnery Sergeant finally broke out of his professional demeanor and revealed a more humanized persona. “It looks like it’s been slightly modded.”
Darius stepped back to take in a better view of both fighters. Both started at the front dorsal cone with the standard single round inlet hole. Tapering back from the one meter diameter inlet –designed for air breathing atmospheric flight, that most surviving LRF-90’s were no longer capable of- the forward cone got progressively broader for several meters until it became a near uniform cylinder. From the tip of the nose inlet to the pilot canopy, the craft seemed sleek and slender. The aerodynamics were useless in space flight, but gave the two fighters and unmatched sense of beauty that was noticeably absent in nearly any other small craft common for the current era. The canopy was broad and sloped slightly upward until it reached the top and then swept back sharply until it met the rest of the hull. The bulk of the hull was aft of the cockpit, but the length of the nose structure was slightly more than half of the fighter’s overall length. The aft portion was bulbous in relation to the sleekness of the forward section, but the smooth tapering of the body wrapped around to the stern to reveal a menacing array of primary and secondary thrusters. Aesthetically, they were aggressive and large. Darius always thought they were overkill for a craft so small, but there was a method to the design that couldn’t readily be dismissed as antiquated. Two stumpy, albeit vestigial, wings swept back from either side of the crafts aft section. A single atmospheric stabilizer crowned the top, but swept back to a lesser extreme.
The two craft were the same generation of ’90 series fighters, however tiny seems of Kara’s fighter betrayed - what Darius could only suspect – was a heavily modified weapons bay. He could only assume the side of the craft facing away from him boasted a similar mod, since asymmetrical systems could throw any craft of balance. These fighters were at least between three to five hundred years old, but probably much older still. Modifications were the norm for most flight worthy ‘90’s that still existed. Generations of owners were known to tweak their ’90 for a wide variety of uses. Not to mention the availability of original parts was next to nil. For most proud owners, it was modify or retire.
Originally designed for stand-alone deep space strike or recon missions, these fighters – in their original military specifications – were not to be trifled with. Small enough to avoid deep space detection, and self-contained enough to travel for months at a time, these fighters could wreak havoc on unsuspecting enemies. Although their arsenal was limited by their size, their hulls were over-engineered to take immense damage before any catastrophic system failure could occur. Small flights of LRF-90’s had been known to disable or destroy fully armed cruisers with no losses. Remote piloted drone fighters had been a mainstay of space combat since the first purpose built space faring warships had first traversed the stars, but they had their limitations.
The extreme distances in space based warfare interferes with the reaction time of the remote pilots or any controlling AI. Non Sentient AI can autonomously operate drone fighters, but it’s a war crime to allow any form of AI to engage any living being. Use of AI’s to pilot fighters is wide-spread, but there are limited combat applications they can be used for.
“Well, let’s get to it!” Kara said as she lovingly tapped the nose of Darius’ fighter. He appreciated the gesture, but gave a slight wince as her bare hand slide off. He would often spend days at a time polishing his baby. Even though the highly reflective transparent coating wouldn’t show any finger prints, he still took pride in the fact that his centuries old bird looked brand new.
They pair of intimidating mini-warships fired away from the habitat without incident. They were using conventional MSSI – Multi-Staged Super Ion- Thrusters while within the dense lanes of space traffic that bisected their direct route to the Tangine Station. Most conventional vessels would have chosen a complex navigational course which would arc across planetary bodies, or even sling shot around them to pick up speed. One of the most valued aspects of owning an LRF-’90 – demilitarized or not – was their immense power, speed, and efficiency. The MSSI thrusters were capable of squeezing out a mind-blowing amount of thrust. They were too expensive for private of commercial use. They cost effectiveness was not only due to their unique design, but there was an upper limit to their efficiency when fitted to larger commercial craft that could easily weigh in at half a million metric tons. Although large for a fighter – even a large fighter such as an LRF-90 – The MSSI’s had a limit to how much they could be scaled up and maintain their efficiency. In order to accelerate a typical freighter with an Ion engine is slow and time consuming. But the MSSI’s can
do it millions of times faster. The drawback of moving that much mass is the energy consumption. Larger and less efficient thrusters were preferred. They were cheaper by far, but they could be scaled up to be much more cost effective in regards to transporting millions of metric tons within the heliopause.
Clandestine Encounter
Location: Redacted
Date Time: Redacted
System: Unknown
“So, this is new.” Councilman Gerhardt said under his own breath as his shuttle craft descended gradually down to the platform. The sheer spectacle of being this close to the center of the galaxy defied all reason. The self-guided craft was lazily rotating clockwise in order to be flush with the scarlet colored semi-translucent platform that seemed to wrap around the natural contours of the asteroid coming into view from the forward port holes. Much like Earth’s sun, the concentrated light from the galactic core illuminated everything, and seemed to branch out in gentle waves of sparkling light.
The sudden stop made Gerhardt lose his balance and catch himself on an adjacent jump-seat. The wait of his battle armor caused him to rock forward more than he would have normally. At this point he regretted even wearing it.
He had considered wearing his more functional TCS Mark VI suit, but decided his more ceremonial Councilman’s decorum would give him an edge during his mission. A mission he had been told little to nothing about.
The Councilman knew the existence of non-human intelligent species was no secret to man-kind. Since humanity had begun to colonize off their home planet, contact was inevitable. Children had been taught about it in school for centuries now, but very few had ever had the chance to witness it first-hand. All of humanity was convinced that the myriad of known alien species had little interest in human affairs. The encounters were exceedingly rare, however documentable enough to shatter any attempts to conceal it by the authorities. Conspiracy theories of alien-human collaboration at high levels of government had always been wide-spread, but there had never been any conclusive evidence to substantiate them.
