Other Worlds Than These

by Gabe Sluis

  Plash started his move to the door of the empty room and Aros followed. LT. Veldt happened to be outside and across the corridor looking at his scroll. Aros sensed the close of the conversation. “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the opportunity. I am glad that the idea could help. I am looking forward to a solid run.”

  “Course,” the XO said, “And keep that little slip about the rift under your rank till its announced. But, I’m sure you had an idea where we were going, rooting around in HQ and making requests for transfers,” Colonel Plash said in a low voice, tipping a wink to the young officer.

  “Understood, Sir,” Aros said at a volume slightly above normal. He gave a salute, closed fist to opposite shoulder, and pushed himself away, glided down the corridor towards the bow of the ship. Lt. Veldt hung in the hallway, keeping his eyes on his scroll, but his peripheral vision taking in the conclusion of the exchange.

  ***

  The last of the small bright spots created by the survey and transport craft engines trailed away from the Prime Meridian. The human flagship ignited secondary propulsion engines and began to move away from Sulva. With a view of the ivory colored satellite in the background, the full body of the great ship was visible. Metallic blue in color, built from mined asteroid ore, the ship consisted of three main sections. Resembling something like a symmetrical rock hammer, the Prime Meridian was long and cylindrical in sections with a widening at the rear where the two gunships docked, adding their two engines to the four of the main ship.

  In the dock housing room, which looked at the nose of the Aurora, Crescent stood at a large control station linked on a video feed with the main engine room. The engineering chief was on the other side of the video link, working his station with a small group of specialists monitoring other stations. The officer in charge, a major, paced the floor.

  “Ushas, Aurora, stand by to ignite engines. On my mark…” three of the attending specialists, with eyes on the chief, nodded sharply when he glanced in their direction for confirmation.

  “Mark,” the Chief said. Crescent slowly increased the power to the Auroras main, feeling a slight hum pick up and run through the ship. The Ushas’s Tech Specialist reported in. Engines were operating at 15% and no red alarms. Crescent reported an identical situation. The main engine room confirmed that the ships were pressing well within structural integration norms and all feeds were running fine. The Chief dismissed the two Techs to attend to their ships until the Captain’s address began. On the outside, two light blue, fifth-generation ion engines on opposing ends of the stern lit up and began to push the far-ranging ship out into the void.

  At the bow of the ship, like the tip of a spear flying toward its target, Captain Bartlett sat in the bridge command chair. Eight stations surrounded him, with two to three bridge crew at each, monitoring and directing most activities onboard.

  “Standby for ship wide broadcast from the bridge,” the Captain ordered.

  “You are on after the chime, Sir.”

  ***

  Three pleasant tones went out over the ships internal system, broadcasting the voice of the Captain to every private room, common area, work station, compartment and passage way. Most of the crew stopped what they were doing and listened and some tuned in an available screen to the bridge feed, which transmitted the activities of the bridge at all times.

  “Crew of the Prime Meridian, This is your Captain. As of the start of green shift, we will have officially departed Sulva and begun our next mission. Stand by for the mission brief.” Captain Bartlett cleared his throat and slid open his scroll. He re-keyed the transmit switch and began.

  In the quarter full chow hall, crew, officers and specialists alike, were belted in to chairs eating appropriate meals according to the time schedule they were following. LT. Veldt sat with a small group of officers and a Chief that he had previously served with. They all placed their nutrient rich drinks down into cup-holders and looked up at the rooms’ central screen. All eyes were on the Captain’s brief, yet some continued to absent-mindedly munch on pellets or crunchy bars.

  “Our mission is to successfully move the Prime Meridian through the Rift. This movement will take fourteen shift cycles, or four hundred-twenty hours. We are to proceed through the Rift and explore the other side. Upon completion of the recon and deployment of several beacons at specific points, we are to return to our Field and refit back at Sulva.

  “The situation on enemy forces is unknown. Contact is not expected on the other side of the Rift, but we are to go forth fully prepared, not knowing any possible hostile contact capabilities or composition. We do have some probe data on the area we will be entering; the Unknown Field, as it has been dubbed, consists of a large red star and three planets. The first is just a barren rock, surrounded by thousands of asteroids. We will be taking closer looks at the last two. The third is a large gas giant with no satellite. The second, which may be of the most interest to us, looks to be slightly larger than Tellus, with encompassing cloud cover and two moons. It is in the Goldie Locks Zone and is to be the primary focus of our survey. We have no other friendly forces accompanying us, or poised for rapid assistance. We have our ships defenses, including the new additions of our pair of custom S-28 gunships. If we do run into any problems, we can relay a message back through beacons poised on either side of the Rift.”

  Half way down a secondary corridor running close to the skin, inside the main body of the ship, a pair of specialists were installing equipment around a bulkhead. They continued their work, while listening to the broadcast.

  “Sounds like we are leaving then,” the younger specialist said to the older. He was holding the emitter in place while his partner bolted it to an interior frame.

  “Yep, and we have three more of these to jam out quick. Chief said, ‘All sonic shields must be done before the end of the fifth cycle.’ Must be cuz they want them all in place well before we get near that rift.”

  “We oughta go at just the right pace so we don’t have to go help Pine and Tharfur finish theirs. They have just as many to do as us. Its not our fault if they’re slow,” the younger specialist said.

  “Shut up, we should really hear the rest of this,” the older specialist said.

  “Executions of movements, schemes of fire, and actions of individual units are covered in Readiness Operations and Tactics, which are part of every section’s Standing Orders. Command personnel will deploy the S-28’s as the situation demands. Good judgment and strong training is what brought each of you to my ship, and that is what will sustain us in every situation.

  “Support concepts include the color-shift cycle for maximum rest, and flexible secondary duty work times. In the case of injury or illness, report to the medical bay. Maintenance and serviceability of equipment and weapons is expected at all times. SRT is mandatory for all crew, at least once per shift cycle. Staying healthy and rested is the key to surviving the stress of this, and all missions.”

  In the Submerged Resistance Training room, the civilian technician gave a snort. She moved the dial on her screen to polarize the liquid for forward resistance and prepped the program as the two ‘customers’ setting up their workouts were distracted by the Captain’s speech. She mused to herself over the new information that was just put out. They were going to go through the rift. Terrific. Everybody knew that the Scalies made the damn thing, so it was no big leap what was on the other side. No wonder she had to get an advanced security clearance and three weeks of off-world ship training before this assignment.

  “Though we are venturing into the unknown, outside our own Field, we are still accountable to higher command. As previously covered, we will be placing beacons along our recon path that will relay all relevant intelligence and requests by pulse-laser back to Space Service Command. Succession of command goes from myself to Colonel Plash, then to bridge command officers in the order of red, green and black shift. Next are the engineering officers, in the same order of shift seniority, and on and on. Refer to you
r standing orders for an exhaustive list.

 

  On the bridge, the red shift stood by, listing to the strong voice of their Captain, sitting just a few feet away. Lt. Jane Novalis sat at her post, half listening to the mission brief. She had heard this similar brief each run. She had been aboard the Prime since construction and had been present on all test runs. After hearing exactly what their mission entailed in the beginning of the briefing, she knew all needed to know. It made total sense that this would be where they would be going next, they had been working toward this mission since the ship became operational. The rift was like the space under your bed that you didn’t much know about and where the monsters may or may not come from. After that strange brush with the enemy last mission, Jane figured it was only a matter of time until they ran into more. With the last point of a standard mission briefing covered, she tuned back in and listened to the man in the command seat.

  “I have spoke with Grand Marshal Midord,” Captain Bartlett continued putting down his scroll, “and he has assured me he will be closely monitoring this monumental quest.” Bartlett was sitting straight-backed in his chair, looking dead ahead into the camera that was recording the brief for crews watching on a screen. His short dark brown hair was slowly being overtaken with grey. His eyes were firm and showing no signs of age. His dark blue uniform was crisp with the muted silver trimming of Captain rank. The crew watched through their screens, truly getting a feel for the man on the other side. This man would lead them farther away from the place of their birth than they had ever been. All were steadfast in their decisions to follow.

  “We are the best humanity has to offer, and this will be the toughest mission we have yet to endure. We are crossing through a half-studied anomaly that was a product of an enemy attack on Tellus. You will be one of a handful of humans who have been outside the Field of Arbol. Time on the other side will be kept to a minimum on this first operation, but we are paving the way for future exploration and human expansion. I am proud to have each of you with me, and I pray for the best of our luck. Bartlett out.”

  The Captain nodded to the internal control officer and the broadcast was terminated.

  “Thanks for staying a few minuets over everyone, go ahead with your end of shift procedures so we can get green shift on and turn up the speed,” Bartlett announced to the room. The Captain remained in the command seat through the slight bustle of the bridge crew running final checks and giving their relief a handover report.

  Over at the Internal Control station, a Lieutenant was tapping away furiously as his relief walked up behind him.

  “Having problems, Charlie?” the green shift L.T. asked.

  “I have been getting random error messages in several systems over the past thirty minuets, but then they go away. When I run tests on the systems, they come back normal. If this happened just once, on one system, I’d dismiss it. But I have had eight.”

  “What were the error codes?”

  “281-B, unauthorized access. Each of them.”

  “Strange. Doesn’t sound like anything to report yet, probably just a newcomer messing around. I’ll check it out on my shift, just make sure to note the activity in your log, in case it continues.”

  “Will do. Need anything else?”

  After a negative response, the station was changed over. All red shift bridge crew had been relieved by green shift and Major Ferris, on his first cycle as bridge command officer, called for a status check. After all systems reported back, Ferris reported the successful shift change to the Captain.

  “Thank you, Major. I want to welcome you and Lt. Veldt to the bridge. Now, lets get this ship moving! Pilot, let's slowly move up to a cruising speed of eighty five percent on engines.”

  “Sir, ready to move on your orders,” the pilot said.

  “Then, lets do it. Drop the hammer!”

  In the dark abyss of space, the remaining four of the Prime Meridians big engines came to life. All six went from a light blue to a brilliant, blinding white-blue as they increased in power and sent the ship swiftly moving off, never to return the same.

  ***

  On a spacecraft that had no windows and worked around the clock, most considered black shift to be the night. Lt. Jane Novalis’s alarm buzzed a short 30 minuets before her shift change. Her eyes slowly opened as the lights in her small cabin came on dim, steadily getting brighter. She slept like most of the crew, in a gel pod that was vertical on the wall. With no gravity, once stuck inside the oxygenated chamber, it was easy to imagine you were ‘laying down’ rather than pinned to a wall.

  The door opened and Jane climbed out. She wicked away most of the gel, which inevitably stuck to her light colored skin. She then entered a small shower recess that was part of her room, and punched the pad on the inside wall. Steam mixed with a mist of cool water spit out from several nozzles placed around the shower. Jane closed her eyes, ran her fingers through her longish black hair, to help rid herself of the nights sleep. The gel liquefied under the heat from the steam and easily ran off her body and down the drain, where it would be sanitized, reprocessed and reclaimed.

  Just another morning, she told herself. You got plenty of sleep, once you get moving you will feel great. It was little solace, but she managed to slip into her dark blue uniform with the black trim that signaled she was an officer. Jane spun inelegantly threw the air as she pulled her ‘boots’, which were not much more than reinforced sox.

  Out her door, Jane went deeper down the residence hall, rather than to the central corridor which ran the length of the ship. She slid open a hatch and came out on one of the secondary corridors that ran close to the hull of the ship. These areas were dimly lit compared to the central run and were much less used. She cocked her body back and pulled hard, throwing herself forward. Moving quickly, she used her hands on the crash pads that lined the walls, in order to keep up momentum and herself close enough to the wall. In officer school, it was briefly mentioned in the outdated curriculum of military officer training, that staying unpredictable in routines was a desired quality to avoid the enemy from gaining the upper hand. This was close to obsolete advice, if not only kept in mind for starship movements, but the lesson stuck with Jane. Something about the philosophy from which that nugget of wisdom fell really appealed to Jane. She wasn’t going to get attacked by something because she was lazy and liked to take the same old way to work each day.

  Jane entered the bridge five minuets before the black shift ended. The sensor officer greeted his relief, happy to be done with another eventless night. As he gave his change over report, Jane couldn’t help but to feel eyes on her. From the top of the bridge at the weapons station, behind the command chair, was a new lieutenant. In a short glance past her shoulder, she studied the intruder. He looked average height, dark hair and fit the general template of most of the men who had been assigned to this ship. She returned her attention and claimed the station. Punching in her codes and entering the shift change on the log, she couldn’t help but to look up at the new weapons officer at the top of the bridge. He was now giving his report and handing over the station. Technical Specialist Gorra swung around her own seat and belted in, jarring Jane out of her brief reverie.

  “Checking out the new guy, huh?” Gorra said as she punched in to her station.

  “He was checking me out. I was just making sure I didn’t get another ‘Hammer’ vibe from him.”

  “Well,” Tech. Specialist Gorra said, “Apparently his name is Drogen and his secondary is with security.”

  Jane gave her an accusative and questioning look.

  “What? It’s a small ship. Plus, I have a friend on his security team.”

  “The last thing I need is another distraction on this ride. I rather ignore all the men, especially good looking new ones.”

  The new bridge officer called for a change of shift report, cutting the conversation short.

  ***

  In the chow hall, Lt. Veldt was sitting, eating wit
h his small knot of confidants, as was their routine. The meal was more a meeting of their own private club than for nourishment.

  “Been a smooth ride so far. What do we got, ten more cycles till the rift?”

  “Yeah, then things will get interesting.”

  “You security boys may have a handful,” a Lieutenant said to both Veldt and the Chief.

  “Why do you say that?” Veldt asked. “You guys that paranoid about Scalie contact? I read the report from last time, they basically ran, right?”

  “That’s not what he means,” the Chief said finishing his mouthful. “My security teams had a handful with some of our own people. You smart guys,” he said pointing at Veldt.

  “Not that I’m worried about you, Max. Just some of these fools look good on paper and can pass an interview, but under the stress of long term missions and orders they don’t particularly like, we had some problems.”

  “In particular, Hammer,” the highest-ranking member of the group, a Major from engineering, said. “This chuckle-head gave some women problems. He thought he was on a pleasure cruise. Then when stuff got serious, he said some wrong things on the bridge.”

  “Yeah,” an Ensign confirmed. “That’s why we got the replacements. The XO weeded out anyone that didn’t perform up to his standards, which are pretty high. But I get it, this ship oughta be full of only the best. That’s why they brought you and Drogen up. Quality replacements.”

  “So don’t act like an idiot, huh!” the Chief laughed and smacked Veldt on the back.

  As the conversation was still going, Aros came in the hall, collected some food and sat down at a table across the room. He sat alone and ate his food while poking away at his scroll. Veldt had a good view, and at the mention of his fellow weapons officer, he switched lines of thought.

  “You guys ever talk to Drogen?”

  “I had a conversation with him when he first came down to sort out his team. Young guy. Seems to know his stuff. Got his Gold Crown, I hear,” The Chief answered.