Expedition (Galactic Neighborhood Book 1)

by Alexander Elliott

  One of my progenitors, Throloo, created this history of my family. She was a celebrated artist in her day, though I was not fortunate enough to have met her. I was only a larva when the wind was taken from her wings, but she included me in the history nonetheless. If you look carefully, you may able to locate my representation.

  It only took Mosis a few moments to locate the colorful smudges which represented Thriss, but he chose to say nothing. Only after the others gave up did he point out the indistinct image, located near the floor at the base of the spire. When the others looked at him in astonishment, he explained the piece was not only a history of individuals, but was also representative of the life cycle of the Vingah. At the very base was an egg, then a larva, followed by a chrysalis, and then the mature winged adults. Thriss’ antennae vibrated with pleasure as Throloo’s creative images were understood by another species for the first time.

  The fine day on Khrusallis came to an end after an enjoyable meal which was shared by the community at large. Before leaving, Jet formally invited the Governor and her Council to attend Pacifica’s celebration which was to be held in two weeks’ time. The celebrations were well deserved, but the humans were almost three years behind the Vingah, and were anxious to move forward. With their partners settled and thriving, and the security measures in place, it was their turn to put down roots.

  ####

  The entire Vulcan system locked down tight. Every available ship was manned and on alert, the Sentinels gathered in to surround Pacifica, and the mobile and moon platforms constantly scanned space for the slightest irregularity. Even the Gates and Terminals were disabled, making it impossible for anyone to enter or leave the system. The very air itself seemed to be imbued with the serious nature of this single task – and Jacob E. Tascio was grateful for it all.

  There was a reason the ark, and the cradle which supported it, was enclosed in the heart of the ship. Without it, there would never be a colony, and the humans who sacrificed so much to find a new home would have to embrace a lonely end. As far as Jet was concerned, it was entirely appropriate to pull out all the stops when it came to the security of their very future. It was now time to separate the cradle from the ship and install it in the newly constructed underground vault. Except for section zero-zero-one, which housed Mosis, the entire cradle was designed to separate from the ship and maneuver independently to its permanent home on a planet’s surface.

  Admiral Perry was in the lead ship of the fighter squadron hovering just outside Expedition’s shields. They would accompany the cradle from the ship to the surface. Meanwhile, no less than three Sentinels were tasked with shielding the precious cargo en route, and were locked on with tractor beams ready in case of engine failure. At Captain Arlington’s order, Expedition was maneuvered low in Pacifica’s atmosphere, directly above the target island. Engineering signaled with a final check of all systems, and Arlington directed Mosis to begin umbilical separation.

  Heavy vibrations and loud clunks were both heard and felt all over the massive ship as the lines and ductwork were withdrawn from the cradle capsule. Unlike the ship, it was a long narrow multi-level rectangle and was designed to exit the ship through a specially designed corridor which led out into space. After Mosis reported the separation was complete, the cradle’s independent systems were activated. Deck by deck a corridor formed through the ship as sections were temporarily rearranged to allow for the passage of the bulky capsule. On the exterior of the ship, four massive doors raised themselves and then spread open on hinges like giant flower petals.

  The cradle capsule, using small maneuvering jets, floated down the corridor, past the shell of the ship, and out into space. Immediately, the Sentinels surrounded it with powerful shields as it began its controlled descent to the surface. Perry’s ships hovered close by, ready for whatever action may be needed. When it drew near to the island, powerful tractors reached up and drew the capsule slowly downward into the specially designed vault, located several stories below ground. With a few final adjustments, the capsule was gently placed in its’ final position.

  The entire unit was scanned for any leaks or damage, and finding none, was quickly sealed inside the vault. Decontamination procedures commenced as soon as the chamber was pressurized and the power and other umbilicals were attached. Meanwhile, strong shields formed a protective blister over the entire site until a hardened cap could be constructed just below ground level. Future plans called for decorative gardens to cover the area, leaving no outward evidence anything of importance resided underneath. Even then, the underground chambers would be protected by independently powered shields.

  On the ships, the crews cheered and congratulated themselves on completing the critical transfer without a hitch. Jet and his staff were experiencing a mixture of joy and profound relief, for after five hundred years of nervous anticipation, the wait was finally over.

  ####

  As the senior officer of the fledgling Pacifica Space Fleet (PSF), it fell to Christopher Perry to decide the ultimate fate of Expedition. The original plans called for the disassembly of the ship into useful components once the colony was thriving. The idea was predicated on the idea every available resource would be necessary for survival on a potentially hostile world by a people who were all alone in the universe.

  Since none of those concerns applied in their case, the question of what to do with the ship remained. Yes, Expedition was old, but it was in excellent condition and received all the newly acquired technological improvements. It seemed a ridiculous waste to scrap the vessel and start over, so Perry decided to simply re-purpose the ship to meet current needs.

  The new flagship would retain its original name, but would be the largest and most heavily armed vessel in the fleet. In addition, the interior space now vacated by the cradle would be dedicated to a fighter squadron, thereby multiplying the ship’s firepower. The stasis chambers and a third of the crew quarters would be replaced with science labs, research and development, and a stellar cartography suite. With the recent advancements in artificial intelligence, many of the ship’s functions would now be run by non-sentient AI’s, freeing up much needed manpower for other duties. This, however, created a significant problem for an original member of the crew.

  Mosis, as usual, was busy juggling several projects and was curious as to the nature of his summons to Admiral Perry’s office. The Admiral’s new duties did not often require Mosis’ input, so the two did not interacted on a regular basis once the building on Pacifica began. His office was in one of the government buildings on Beta, though eventually he and his staff would relocate to the space station/shipyard complex currently under construction in Pollux orbit.

  Working closely with Theresa Arlington was a rewarding change of pace, but Mosis missed his former commanding officer. He arrived without fanfare and entered the outer office. Perry, always a stickler for punctuality, greeted him warmly and ushered him into his workspace, closing the door behind them. Mosis was directed to a corner of the room furnished with two comfortable chairs and a small table. He chose a seat for himself and opened the conversation.

  “I have been following the plans for Expedition’s remodel, Admiral. She’s going to be an impressive ship when the changes are complete.”

  Perry nodded in assent, his face revealing nothing but mild interest.

  “Then you have probably already ascertained the reason for this meeting, my friend. When Expedition left Earth orbit, you were something of an experimental super-computer, designed to run the entire ship on your own, especially while the crew was in stasis. Your growth and transformation into a self-aware individual was never part of the plan, but here we are. In addition, you now have freedom of movement and autonomy which no longer ties you to the ship. The time has come to cut the last of the apron strings, Commander, and give you leave to pursue your own interests in life. How do you feel about that?”

  Mosis was unsurprised by Perry’s announcement, but explaining how he felt about it was
more complex than he was prepared to admit.

  “My feelings, Admiral, if you don’t mind complete honesty, are something of a mix. I feel somewhat guilty for ‘leaving my post’ as it were, I am nervous about not having the ship as a backup for my systems, and I remain uncertain about what I should do with my future. I assume over time those concerns will fade, but for now they are heavy on my mind.”

  Mosis waited patiently for Perry, who observed attentively while he spoke.

  “I encourage you to forget about the guilt, Mosis, and look at this as a transfer to different duties. Your other concerns are understandable, but let me remind you none of your comrades have any sort of backup, nor are they always certain of their future. It simply makes you more human, my friend, which is something you need to get used to. You are an intelligent, dedicated and talented officer, as well as a wonderful person. You have a long life ahead of you, and I encourage you to follow your interests wherever they may lead. You have been my constant companion and friend for five hundred years, and I hope to maintain our relationship wherever the future takes you.”

  Mosis was almost overcome with conflicting emotions, but finally managed to speak.

  “Thank you, Admiral. Your support, advice, and friendship all mean a great deal to me. Under the circumstances, I believe it would be best for me to transfer to a groundside assignment as soon as possible. Can you tell me what will happen to my shipboard self?”

  Perry was prepared for the question, and answered it without hesitation.

  “We will need to bypass some of the backup safeties in section zero-zero-one, and then cut main power. The components will be disassembled and replaced with one of the new AI’s. As you know, they will never be allowed to outgrow their programming or achieve sentience. The unit which replaces you will know you only as another crew member, and will have no knowledge of your memories or relationships. It will be a clean start for both you and the ship. I expect Theresa will have the most difficult time adjusting to your absence.”

  “Before you ask, she has endorsed our plans fully, and has given you four weeks of leave, beginning immediately. We have also provided you with new living accommodations on Epsilon, and have taken the liberty of transferring your belongings from your quarters aboard ship. My assistant will provide you with your new address and a list of available positions which we feel would be particularly suited to your abilities. Take your time considering them, Mosis, and feel free to contact me if you have any concerns.”

  Perry shook Mosis’ hand warmly and escorted him to the outer office where his assistant met them with the promised information. Mosis was in something of a mental fog, but managed to catch a transport to Epsilon, which was on the opposite side of the ‘wheel’ from Beta. Moving counter clockwise, the trip took him across Delta, which at present contained only the Vingah embassy, then through Zeta, which housed the bigger businesses and industries, and finally around to Epsilon, where most of the new homes and apartments were located.

  His new address was only a short walk from the transport station, but was not, as assumed, one of the apartment buildings. Instead, he found himself in front of a single-family dwelling surrounded by a fenced-in yard. The lot was carefully landscaped to provide some measure of privacy, and included many native pseudo-trees and grasses. Mosis opened the front gate and continued up the walk to the porch, which held a padded bench, small table and potted plants.

  The inside contained all the usual rooms on one floor, and was sparsely furnished with the essentials. A well-appointed office suite was waiting for him at the back of the house, however, and included a large communications panel, desk with retractable computer interface, and a comfortable seating area. Charging ports for his power pack were available in three places, allowing him to recharge wherever he was working. Several large windows allowed in natural light, and provided views of both the back and side yards.

  After being cooped up aboard ship for the last five hundred years, this was luxury! Apparently, this home was something of a reward for services rendered, and he was astonished it was his to enjoy. He seated himself behind the natural wood desk and loaded the small information disk into the computer. Before him was a welcome letter from Jet, followed by the list of positions Admiral Perry mentioned. As he scanned through them, he allowed his mind to begin planning for a future he never foresaw, full of intriguing possibilities.

  Chapter 10

  The Pacifica security grid reported the imminent transfer of an incoming ship seconds before it appeared. Since only they and the Vingah used the fold space drive, it was fairly safe to assume the arriving vessel or vessels were friendly. Still, the system was designed to give the ships on duty a few seconds of warning. The vessel appeared and was immediately challenged. The response code matched the Poseidon, a gleaming new battlecruiser, which was returning from its maiden voyage to Grazill.

  Not only did the trip provide a proper shake down for the ship and crew, but its mission to ensure the hostile Lydokk were in compliance was essential. The Captain, looking inordinately pleased, congratulated his people on a job well done. Betsy Colburn, communications officer, opened a channel at his request. The face of Admiral Perry appeared on the main screen.

  “Welcome back, Captain. I trust your mission was profitable?”

  Mosis tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his enthusiasm just a bit.

  “Indeed it was, Admiral, and you will be most interested in our findings.”

  Perry quirked an eyebrow.

  “In that case, Captain, why don’t you join my staff for a debriefing in one hour. My assistant will forward the details.”

  The screen blanked and Mosis asked Betsy to make the arrangements on the way to his ready room. As the ship assumed a standard orbit, Mosis sank into the comfortable chair behind his desk and allowed himself a moment to relax. A whirlwind of activity filled the previous three months, as he was incorporated into the PSF as a newly minted Captain.

  The Poseidon, first in her class, was handed over to Mosis for her builder’s trials the very day he accepted the position under Admiral Perry. It took some weeks to get used to his new crew and iron out the problems every new ship seemed to have. Once accomplished, Perry tasked him with the journey to Grazill. There were indications the unruly Lydokk were ‘planning something’, and someone needed to find out what was going on before it got out of hand.

  His officers and crew possessed some experience among them, but most were as green as spring grass. He was proud of their performance on this mission, and would make sure it showed on their service records. The hour passed quickly, and Mosis left Ensign Wilcox temporarily in command. Until the space dock complex was finished, each ship was normally forced to land dirtside, or send one of its shuttles. Today, however, a Sentinel was employed to transfer him from ship to surface. At Betsy’s signal, Mosis disappeared from the shuttle bay with a flash of golden light and reappeared in front of the PSF’s main building.

  Admiral Perry assembled several Captains and support staff in the large meeting room adjacent to his office. In short order, Mosis was welcomed, seated, and asked to report.

  “Our concerns they were up to something were legitimate, Admiral. They have been busy assembling missiles and hiding them in underground bunkers. We believe the plan was to launch enough of them to take out all four of the Sentinels in orbit at the same time. The scans revealed what they were doing immediately, of course, and altered the missiles to explode on the ground if they were ever fired. The Vingah have been studying their activity over the past year, and wanted to delay action until they could trace where all of the individual parts were coming from.”

  “When we arrived in orbit, the Premier was immediately hailed over multiple frequencies. They chose to ignore us, so I transported down to the surface in stealth mode. Their military complex was rebuilt on a different site, but I simply made my way inside and listened to enough conversations to figure out what was going on. It seems Premier Gornott met with an unfortunat
e end shortly after our first visit, and the position was taken by Gojodd. Though just as stubborn and stupid as his predecessor, he was, unfortunately, very sneaky and determined. They were receiving our hails, of course, and were quite amused at their own silence - until I suddenly appeared out of nowhere and demanded they dismantle their weapons.”

  “When they denied the existence of the missiles, I instructed the ship to detonate them one at a time. Since they continued to lie, the Sentinels erased every single one of the secret parts suppliers. By this time, the populace was frantic to get away from the destruction and were calling for Gojodd’s head. I instructed the Sentinel to transport all the individuals in his headquarters to the center of town, and then let the people know it was their doing which led to the day’s events. I went back into stealth and watched long enough to see what would happen. Needless to say, it became necessary to select new leadership after the old regime was forcibly...retired.”