Starship: First Steps to Empire

by R J Murray

  “Not yet.” A voice answered. “I am the ships mainframe. You may call me Betty. You are Cadet Phyllis O’Keeffe, pilot trainee. Correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “We will begin with a short tutorial on the control panel in front of you. As I describe the functions, the appropriate section of the board will become backlit. The specific controls will glow either red or green as I describe function and use. As this is your first day, please wait until I have completed each section before asking any questions. By the end of this lesson, you will have learned the location and function of the basic controls. Are you ready to begin?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Please respond yes or no. While I understand the various forms of reply, we wish to instill in you the clarity of speech needed for command training.”

  “Yes.”

  “The board in front of you is divided into sections. The sections you use most frequently are directly in front of you within easy reach. The further away a section is located, the less frequently it is used. This does not mean that these are less important, merely used less often. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. We will continue. The right hand section is now backlit. Please place your right hand so that the heel of your palm rests in the green section just below the panel. Very good. With your hand in this location your fingers can touch all seven buttons easily and hit the three switches on the extreme left of the panel. This very small section is used most often during times when probes are to be launched or an object in close proximity to the ship is detected. It enables you to control . . .”

  Chapter 16 The Dark Star

  “Orbit and course laid in. On the plotter.” Steve said.

  Phyllis glanced up from her display and saw the line reaching from the Pathfinders position to the Acadian moon. She also saw the line was still yellow, the ship marker surrounded by numbers and symbols of red, green and yellow.

  Looking back at her screens she gave the ship a sideways push with the maneuvering thrusters while cutting engine output to eighteen percent. She adjusted the heading by one and a half degrees to port, the bow three degrees down at the same time and the line turned green.

  “On course and speed.” Steve called out. That was his job after all, to keep the command team alerted to any variation in the navigation of the ship.

  “Nice work. Right on target. Go ahead and take us into orbit Miss O’Keeffe.” Reed said.

  “Yes Sir.”

  Steve called out the distances every few minutes and continued to check the course while Phyllis flew the ship. Behind them four sets of pilot/navigator teams were waiting, either to harass the current team for failure or to take their turn in the hot seats.

  The green line vanished and was replaced by a green circle around the moon as the ship entered the correct orbit.

  “Orbit achieved Sir. Engines to stand by.”

  “Well done, both of you. Switch teams and let’s do it again.” Phyllis locked her board, a precaution against accidental bumping of the controls. One pilot trainee failed to do so two weeks ago and sent the ship into an uncontrolled tour of the outer reaches of the Acadian system. No injuries except to the trainee, who was raked over by the Captain privately and thoroughly. The entire crew dubbed the individual ‘wrong way’ thereafter.

  Phyllis stood in the back of the bridge with the other trainees, a custom that had grown in the time she had spent here. Sometimes they encouraged and sometimes they ragged on their classmate but they stood together regardless. Even ‘wrong way’ stood with them, hoping someone else would screw up big and get them out of the limelight.

  This was the last team of the day and they did the job properly. It took a few moments longer on final approach to match trajectories and green line the orbit, but they did it well under the time allowed. The five teams were finished for the day and they all waited to be dismissed so they could celebrate. A new class had formed and joined the ship, thirty strong and determined young men and women who thought this was going to be a breeze.

  Most of the current class had washed out as pilots, the most promising becoming navigators. The rest moved on, to gunnery, missiles, electronics or communication. Very few moved to other ranks, the crew who were not officers. Those who did usually quit and joined the ground forces or went back to what they were doing before they signed on with the fleet.

  “Well done all. This is the last of the training. The last training but not the last test. For the next few weeks, you will tutor the newbie’s. You will teach them how to do things on a starship, from using the showers, brushing their teeth or folding their socks. You are the senior cadets and these newbie’s are the meat you will grind. I trust you all remember your first month aboard this ship?” Reed asked.

  Did they ever. They were incapable of breathing in the proscribed manner and Maker forbid if they should do their laundry wrong. Phyllis let a shudder run through her momentarily as she remembered her DI. She hated her with a passion that could best be described using language unsuited to an officer.

  “I see you do. They were the last graduates from this ship. You are the next. I expect you to be exceptionally cruel and demand the impossible from these cadets. I do not want bullies. I want intelligent, calculating sadists.”

  “Sir?” Steve hesitated.

  “You want to know why. First, it is a refresher for each of you in the basics of being Fleet, a time to teach what you have learned. Second, because if they can’t take the pressure, it is better to know now than when we are under fire. Because if I am to stand with these people, I want to know that they can take the pressure and not lose it. If they can’t take a little hazing, the fleet is better off without them. Every man and woman in the fleet has been through it all, just as you have been, up to now. It is just beginning for these new ones, but it is not yet over for you. Do your jobs. Make them understand that this is serious, not a game, life and death. If they are unable to fold a sock while you stand over them describing their ancestry and future in unfavorable terms, what happens when the first nuke hits the ship?”

  “Yes Sir. I see Sir.”

  “You will work under the guidance of the DI’s. If you have a problem, ask them and then do as they suggest. They know their business. Now go give’em hell. Number one, take them down to the fresh meat.”

  ~~~~~~

  “Get out of bed Jorgensen! NOW!” Steve stood over his problem child, a young farmer who knew he was smarter and better than the rest and therefore privileged. Steve yanked the blankets off and slapped the kid with his baton.

  “Move your butt!”

  The rest of the bunks were empty, the people jumping at the first sound from Steve. They were running for the head to shower, shave and whatever else that could be done in ten minutes. Once finished they would run back and stand at attention by the bunks until ordered to take the first breath of the day. Then they would make the bunks per standing orders. If not right, they would do it again. Third time, the squad would run laps around the outside corridor of the ship, three kilometers in circumference. Then they would make all the bunks once more.

  Steve stopped. He had done this routine everyday for the last week. Yanking the kid out of bed, chasing him down the passageway, and it was not working. He turned to the rest of the squad and stepped in close so they could hear him. He spoke in a low whisper, yet with an intensity that sent a ripple of fear down their spines.

  “Alright scum buckets. I have done my best to make this thing a member of your squad. It pains me greatly to admit defeat, but I do. He is your bunkmate, your messmate and your classmate. If you wish to remain in this class, if you have any hope of being a fleet officer, you fix this. You make him or you break him or you are all flushed down the toilet. You have two days. Do not kill him or cripple him beyond our medical ability to heal. That is all. Make your bunks and report to class. MOVE!” Steve spun sharply on his heels and marched down the passageway to get breakfast.

  The
cadets stood there for a minute or two, not sure what to think.

  “Let’s get the bunks made first, and then we can brainstorm.” Orton was usually the first to react, which was why he was acting petty officer for the squad.

  “Should we get him up?” Thurman asked.

  “We were not ordered to babysit so no, we leave him be. He gets gigged for late to class, that is his problem.” Orton answered.

  They hurried and headed out after dressing.

  ~~~~~~

  Steve explained his actions to Reed and asked if he was correct.

  “I think so. It sounds like you expect his squad to act as a team and use your authority to delegate appropriate tasks to others. We like that, right? So we see what they do and reward success. The boy is not suited for the fleet Steve. You and I both know it was a mistake to send him here in the first place. If he can teach them teamwork then he has served his purpose. Why did you tell them not to kill him? Did you think it would come to that?”

  “No Sir. However, I wanted them to think it might, someday. I remember your talk. Man stands next to me, he better not flinch when the nukes fly.”

  Reed smiled. “Good. You have the qualities of a good officer Steve. You and Phyllis are the best team up here and I think you will both go far in the fleet.”

  “Thank you Sir. I best go and grab some breakfast before they get done serving.”

  “Alright Steve. Let me know how this turns out.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  ~~~~~~

  “You did not do that! Really!” Phyllis laughed and a few looked over and wondered why. “That is so cool. Mine are not that bad, even Tylee who is lazy. Sophie tried to punch me a few weeks ago but I slapped her against the bulkhead and choked her until she passed out. It seemed to get the message across.”

  Steve grunted. “Hitting one of us is a death sentence. Out the airlock and hold your breath. You didn’t report it?” Steve asked.

  “She missed and she has been a good girl ever since. She still had a nasty bruise for two weeks. The rest of the squad are all being careful around me now. I guess they didn’t think I had any bite.”

  “You think they will all make the grade?” Hoshi came up and joined them. He was a pilot cadet like Phyllis.

  “Some will. Not all, which is too bad. They do try hard and two of them are pretty good in class. The other one is not as good but they may make good gunners or com officers. Not up to us though, is it? We just teach them to be fleet, to think and do the fleet way. Everything else depends on them and luck.” Steve said.

  “That’s three. You wash one out already?” Hoshi asked.

  Steve repeated what he had told Phyllis.

  “I have one of them too. I think, if he doesn’t straighten up in another couple of days, I will have do that.”

  ~~~~~~

  “Why do you think he said not to kill him? Did he really think we would?” Nicolai asked Orton.

  “Too much paperwork. They have like a ten pager to fill out for deaths. Fleet wants to make sure he was killed according to regulations.” Orton answered.

  “Shit.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up? I got gigged twenty points, do ten laps and KP for a month.” Jorgensen sat and broke the flatware off his lunch tray.

  Nicolai and Orton ignored him.

  “So what’s up with the attitude? I got him off my back right? He left me in bed and let me get up when I felt like it, right? I got him beat.”

  Orton laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “He gave you to us. Do anything we want short of killing you for the next two days. After that, you go back to slopping hogs.”

  Jorgensen shut up for a second. “Bull. You’re just cracking on me.” He stuck his fork in the mashed potatoes and Orton picked up the tray, shoving it into his face and holding it there. Nicolai held the back of his hair and rubbed his nose in the food. When they let go Jorgensen choked for a few.

  Khachaturian joined the rest of the squad and ignored what was going on. “When do you think we get to start flying the ship?”

  “Classes for the rest of the month. After that we have reviews, a month or so of simulators and if we are still here then maybe we get to fly the real thing.” Orton answered.

  “You jerks! I’m gonna get you all gigged for fighting. You wait and see.” Jorgensen stomped away toward the sergeant at arms and stood there talking and pointing at his messmates. The sergeant gigged him for a dirty uniform and dropping food on the floor. He had been advised of the situation. Jorgensen left to do more laps, a corporal on his butt to make sure he did them in a timely manner.

  “So what do we do to him. Do we want him around or not?” Nicolai asked.

  “We give him the choice. Get with the team or get off the team. What he does gives us the answer. If he continues to think he can act this way then we get rid of him. He straightens up then we welcome him back to the squad.”

  “My ancestors had a few unpleasant things they did to people they did not like.” Khachaturian started. “Have you ever heard of water torture? It leaves no marks but it is very effective psychologically.”

  ~~~~~~

  “How many we wash out this time?” Eric asked Reed over drinks.

  “Eighteen. I have a promising team for you though after the finals. Steve Rimouski and Phyllis O’Keeffe. If they finish with the same high standards they started with, that is. The FTL final test is demanding on the whole crew.”

  “That is the way we set it up, isn’t it? To wash out those who can’t hack it, even at the last moment.”

  Reed nodded and took a puff off his cigar. “Tobacco tastes different grown here. Not bad, just different.”

  “I prefer Acadian grown these days. Cigars, food and people. Much better quality.”

  ~~~~~~

  “You’ve done well up to now. This is your final. As you have noticed the ship has been reduced to one crew. The others in your class take the test the same way in other ships in other areas of space so neither they nor you have any idea what is coming up. We like it that way. We change the test each time so what happens to you is different than what happened to the last crew. Mr. Rimouski is acting Captain during the test. I and the rest of your trainers will be waiting at FB One to see your results.”

  “Sir? You are not going with us?”

  “This is your test. Pass or fail, it is all up to you and the rest of the crew. Good luck. Once I leave the ship, you may open your sealed orders.”

  Reed left the bridge, the elevator doors closing behind him.

  “So, stations please. Let’s do this.” Steve said.

  “Yes Sir, captain.”

  It took several minutes before they were given the signal to depart, the shuttle with the rest of the trainers seen on screen heading for FB One. Steve opened the envelope and read for a minute before giving the orders.

  “We are to visit three star systems and scan the planets, if any, for resources. This is a planetary search operation. Set course for HD 102272 please Miss O’Keeffe.”

  “Yes Sir. Course laid in and on plot.”

  “Move to safe distance from FB One and go to FTL.”

  ~~~~~~

  “The planet has no life and an atmosphere of acids. The surface is etched and degraded volcanic rock. Are we really going to scan for the whole package?”

  “You want to pass? Then we do what a survey ship would do.” Steve answered.

  “I thought there would be more to this.” Franz said. “Even the simulated attack was weak.”

  “We knew it was coming. If it had been a surprise, it would have been different.” Phyllis answered. “There is going to be more, there has to be. They won’t grade us on how well we handle boredom will they?”

  “Just keep the scans going for the full package. Another day here and we can move on. Be nice to see a real sun again. This brown dwarf is so dark you can barely see it from here.”

  “FTL emergence. A second. No id this time.” Sc
ott said from his station.

  “Stop all active scans and electronic signatures. Let’s see what they are going to pull on us this time.” Steve said.

  “Shouldn’t we go to battle stations?” Phyllis asked.

  “Activating weapons could give away our position. Hold off but be ready.”

  “Yes Sir. Passive scanning only.”

  They watched as the two unknown ships continued deeper into the system, the occasional flicker on the plotter showing position and direction. The two ships stopped scanning and disappeared from the plotter.

  “They missed us. Were they real or part of the test?” Phyllis asked.

  “Good question. Let’s assume they are real. How far away were they at last known?”

  “Six million kilometers headed toward the inner planet.”

  “Okay. Thrusters only, get us behind the second moon. Make us look like space junk.”

  “That will take a while Sir. Almost an hour.”

  “Better than giving them a signature of a ship. Get guns to stations. They don’t have any signature. Have missiles stand by to activate only on my command. Get the FTL to standby mode after we get behind that moon.”

  “Yes Sir.” Phyllis agreed with the plan, but she saw no sense in saying anything else. She had already voiced her opinions and gave her advice as number one. “Thirty eight minutes to moon shadow.”

  A blip appeared on the plot at seven million kilometers and the crew was relieved. The unknowns were still heading away.

  “We have launch! Nukes! Nukes! Three coming at us from around the planet at delta-six-five-two!”

  “Battle stations, full thrust on the engines. Get us behind that moon. Deploy countermeasures.”

  Phyllis hit the thrusters and the main engines in one motion. She didn’t see any ships but those nukes came from someplace.

  “Why would they shoot real nukes at us? This is a test?” Franz asked.

  “Stay on your weapons console and assume it is real. Focus people. Life and death are here.”

  A ship came around the far side of the planet behind them. It was Catroph and it fired another two nukes at the Pathfinder. The first nuke detonated against the moon as the Pathfinder curved around the surface.