Stars & Empire: 10 Galactic Tales

by Jay Allan

  Jason looked bemusedly at the array of controls and displays before him. It was an interesting mix of familiar toggle and tactile switches along with the more expected glass touch panels and, he noticed with delight, a pair of holographic displays. One of them showed the ship in its entirety, slowly rotating, with key information being displayed with arrows indicating parts of the model. The other seemed to show the Solar System with Mars clearly highlighted by a rotating halo. On a whim, he closed two fingers and his thumb together and pushed his hand towards the Mars icon in the model. Once he felt like he was “touching” it, he quickly splayed the three digits outward. The result was satisfyingly as he expected: the holo zoomed quickly until it was showing only a rotating Mars in exquisite detail along with more scrolling text. There was also a red strobing crosshair flashing near the Valles Marineris that he knew must indicate their position. He assumed if he “swiped” again that the holo would zoom in even further and maybe even show the ship itself. Instead, he inserted his open hand into the holo and quickly closed all his fingers together, zooming the display back out to the original display of the Solar System. The interface was eerily intuitive for the human to operate and said a lot about the beings who’d designed and built the system. “If you’re done playing…”

  Jason looked over at Deetz sheepishly. “Just playing a hunch,” he said.

  “Ah. Well, if you’re done we can lift off and get out of here. Once we’re in flight, please try to control your hunches; I’d rather not have one of them activate the self-destruct.” Deetz’s hands flew over the controls and a deep, steady hum started building in volume and pitch.

  “This thing actually has a self-destruct?”

  “No.”

  Deetz rested his hands on two dimly glowing hemispheres on either side of his seat, the blue light shining weakly between his fingers. While Jason couldn’t exactly make out the motions the synth made, it was obvious these were the manual flight controls when the ground dropped away. He quickly gave up trying to decipher how the controls actually worked, being a far cry from the familiar stick and rudder, and enjoyed the view as Mars slid underneath them at an increasingly fast rate. Deetz was speaking out loud in that same alien dialect he’d used when Jason first stormed the bridge, obviously talking to the ship. As he spoke, Jason could hear and feel changes in its configuration; some solid thumps seemed to be the landing gear coming up and locking and the pitch of that oppressive whine seemed to be directly related to their speed. “Want to see something incredible?” Deetz was now looking over at him.

  How does one say no to that? “Of course,” he said. He would come to regret those words immensely. Deetz sharply spoke out a single word. The lights on the bridge dimmed instantly and a whole new set of displays came up in front of Jason. Before he could ask if the lighting change was the incredible thing he was waiting for, a hearty BOOM resounded from somewhere aft of the bridge and the ship leapt forward with enough ferocity to press him back in the seat despite the artificial gravity. Deetz made a series of exaggerated motions with the controls and the ship swung wildly until it was pointing nose down and plunging back towards the Martian surface. He leveled out a split second before Jason would have screamed in alarm, but there would be plenty of time for that later. They shot over the edge of the Valles Marineris trench and banked hard to the right while descending into the enormous chasm. Despite the fact that the Martian geological feature dwarfed the Grand Canyon on Earth, the speed at which the ship was rocketing into it made it seem no larger than a drainage ditch. The canyon walls rose up until they completely blocked the view of the sky through the canopy, and Deetz was still accelerating and still in a dive, heading for the bottom.

  For the second time in as many minutes, the ship leveled out deep within the trench just as Jason’s muscles clenched up and an alarmed yelp would have escaped his lips. The velocity at which they were powering up the canyon was stunning. Jason wished he could understand the scrolling numbers and indicators in front of him so he could know just how fast they were moving. Apparently that wasn’t the extent of the incredible something that Deetz had promised. At another spoken command from the synth and a few hand movements on the controls, an immense roar issued forth from the engines and Jason was planted hard back into his seat. The ship’s speed increased to what could only be described as suicidal as they thundered along the floor of the canyon, kicking up a huge trailing plume of dust. Deetz had a wide, maniacal smile on his metallic face as he piloted the ship in a terrain-hugging course that brought them perilously close to the rises along either side. Jason had gotten an “incentive ride” in an F-16 fighter jet during his time in the service, but it didn’t compare to the thrill/terror of blasting along the alien landscape in an equally alien, and incredibly powerful, spaceship.

  After ninety seconds of the wild ride had elapsed, Deetz yanked the ship into a vertical climb that pressed Jason back into his seat even more. Now staring straight up into the Martian sky, he watched with wonder as they transitioned from flying in the atmosphere into space. The majesty of the moment was juxtaposed with the roar of the engines as the ship clawed its way up Mars’ gravity well. Deetz barked another command in that alien language and the vibration, pull of acceleration, and engine roar all ceased. The ship felt like it was parked on the ground as they continued to pull away from Mars in a direct route away from the planet. Jason was completely ignorant of the science of putting a ship into orbit from a planet surface, but he knew enough to realize the power of the engines must be tremendous to be able to just pull up and away from a planet the way they had.

  “I like to tweak down the inertial compensators and engine dampeners when I do that. It makes it so much more intense.” Deetz’s manic actions were replaced with the more familiar smooth and polished demeanor. Jason was forced to yet again re-evaluate how he viewed the synthetic life form; it was obvious it was able to experience a wide range of complex emotions, including not being above a little thrill seeking. He would need to keep this in mind. So far the synth was being cordial because it needed him, but that could change quickly.

  As his vitals came back down to a normal level after the adrenaline rush Deetz’s canyon blast had provided, Jason stared through the canopy at the stars. There seemed to be so many now that he was no longer separated from them by an atmosphere and the light pollution of modern civilization. It was quite peaceful really, as long as he didn’t dwell on the reality of the situation he was in. But, now that he had made the decision to fly with Deetz on this new adventure, he felt the fear and trepidation slip away and he became anxious to see what was out there.

  “Are we in … slip-space?” If they were, Jason was sorely disappointed.

  “No. The slip-drive emitters are being charged from the reactor. It will take a bit since the reactor was completely shut down during the repairs. It’s a minor inconvenience. We have a few hours before we can activate the drive, was there anything else in this star system you’ve been dying to see?”

  Jason thought hard about his answer. He’d already been up close and personal with Saturn and walked on Mars during his short time on board. What else did he want to see?

  “I suppose I’d like to see Jupiter if we’re heading that way.” Being put on the spot like that, it was the only other interesting thing in the Solar System Jason could think of. He watched as Deetz punched some commands in on a control panel and sat back in its seat. There was no discernible difference in the ship save for a slight tick up in the pitch of the engines.

  “On our way. Should be about ninety minutes if you’d like to grab something to eat.” At Deetz’s casual comment, Jason found he was suddenly famished. He felt tired as well, but he could tough it out for a bit longer. He rose from his seat and walked off the bridge. When he turned in the corridor he saw the synth had not come with him. He hoped the galley interface was as intuitive as the holo display on the bridge. Walking down the stairs (Would it be called a ladder since it’s on a ship?), he strode p
urposefully into the galley area. As he’d expected, the lights came up and the panels lit in reaction to his proximity, and that was it. He stood looking at the foreign script in utter confusion, afraid to touch anything. After ninety seconds or so, the ship apparently tired of waiting for him.

  “Gaanantz shoowt.” The disembodied voice, a pleasant sounding tenor, seemed as if it had come from the walls of the galley.

  What the hell does that mean? “Um, I don’t speak whatever language that is,” Jason said to the wall.

  There were a couple of beeps and then: “Earth dialect. English, United States. Would you like all ship functions in this language?”

  “Uh, yeah! That’d be great.” Jason assumed it simply meant would he like it to speak English to him, but then he noticed the touch panel displays all blinked off and when they came back on they were in good ol’ English instead of the hopeless looking alien script.

  “What are you doing down there?!” Deetz’s shout came through on the intercom.

  “I’m trying to get something to eat. Isn’t that what it told me to do?”

  “Every display up here is now in English!”

  “The computer asked if I would like all functions in English. I didn’t know it meant everywhere.”

  “Even the ship is a bigot,” Deetz muttered, still being broadcast over the intercom. “Please tell it that only non-essential displays that YOU’RE using are to be in English, everything else is to be Jenovian Standard.” Jason heard the intercom cut off so he didn’t bother responding to Deetz. He directed his voice to one of the displays instead.

  “You get that computer?” Silence. “Computer?”

  “Standing by. Please state command.”

  “Please restore all essential functions to Jenovian Standard and display English only on displays that I am personally using.” Jason hoped there wasn’t a specific command syntax he was supposed to use.

  “Acknowledged.”

  “THANK YOU,” came the sarcastic shout from the direction of the bridge. The smartass machine didn’t even bother to use the ship’s intercom that time. Rolling his eyes, Jason addressed the ship again.

  “Could I get the same thing to eat I had earlier?” He wasn’t brave enough to risk culinary variety just then.

  “Acknowledged,” the ship replied amiably. After a few moments there was a double beep and a panel slid up to allow a tray loaded with the familiar food to be pushed onto the serving counter. It was just like the chow hall, minus the surly staff. Jason took his tray over to one of the tables and wolfed down his food, barely tasting it as he ate with the mechanical efficiency that seemed to be a trait many military veterans shared. Afterwards he rose, drained the rest of the water in his glass, and hurried back towards the bridge, not bothering to wait and see if his tray would be collected again by one of the maintenance robots.

  CHAPTER 6

  Once back on the bridge, Jason walked past the command consoles and up as close as he could get to the steeply raked forward canopy without ducking. The view was breathtaking. The transparent material, which he assumed was something far more exotic than glass or Lexan, rose up over and well behind his head. The effect was like standing on a platform out in the middle of space; the sensation nearly gave him vertigo as he looked out at the stars. After a moment he realized one of the stars was becoming brighter and moving quickly across his field of view relative to the others. It could only be Jupiter. Jason couldn’t even hope to calculate their speed, but judging by the rate that Jupiter’s brightness was increasing it must be unimaginable by Earth-technology standards.

  The furthest human from Earth stood transfixed as Jupiter began to resolve from a white speck into glorious detail. The synth sat silently in the command seat, ostensibly controlling the ship, but Jason could almost feel the eyes on him. He couldn’t tell if Deetz was still feeling peevish about the language switch he had inadvertently caused on the displays or if it was something else that was keeping the normally over-talkative being quiet. Whatever the reason, Jason was grateful for it. He didn’t want the moment ruined by a stream of inane chatter. The gas giant was swelling in his field of vision and he could make out the stripes of its atmosphere in exquisite detail. While he had viewed more than a few high-res photos taken by NASA’s exploratory spacecraft, there was simply no comparison to gazing upon it with the naked eye. He felt the heady rush of discovery that had driven humans out of their comfort zones and into the unknown since man had discovered fire.

  As he stared, sparks began to dance across the canopy. When he looked closer he could see that they were actually a foot or so in front of the transparent material. He looked back to Deetz questioningly.

  “High energy particles coming off the planet. A gas giant like this puts off some serious radiation. If they’re concentrated and intense enough, they interact with the collision shields.” The synth hadn’t had to look up to answer his unasked question; it had indeed been watching him. Although it could just be a continued curiosity, Jason couldn’t shrug off the nagging distrust he had for the alien.

  The gunship had by now swung into a high orbit over the system’s largest planet. Deetz allowed the ship to adjust its velocity to achieve a stable orbit before bringing the nose around so that it was pointing directly at the planet and then slightly “down” towards the southern pole. This allowed for the largest viewing area through the forward canopy.

  “I’m going to go check on some things in the engineering bays. We’ll be here for a couple of hours, so enjoy.” With that, Deetz hopped out from behind the command console and strode off the bridge, leaving Jason alone with Jupiter. He watched the synth exit in the faint reflection on the forward canopy. He turned back to the massive planet in front of him and simply enjoyed the moment; he was the first human to ever see this, and likely to be the only one for quite some time. The thought awed and humbled him. The vision of majestic Jupiter hanging so close it looked like he could touch it welled up his eyes with tears once again and cleared his mind of all doubt, fear, and regret, all of which he’d been feeling in spades since boarding the ship. No matter what happened from that moment on, Jason felt it would be worth this single moment in time, and it was something that could never be taken away from him.

  Drifting over to the bench seat that ran along the front of the raised command stations, he seated himself into a comfortable slouch and addressed the ship, “Dim all ambient light on the bridge, please.” The ship instantly obeyed by bringing down all the bridge lights and even the station displays until he was only illuminated by the light of the sun reflecting off the gas giant. The effect was breathtaking; it was like he was floating in space while looking at the planet.

  There was so much to process. Given that, Jason felt he should be a lot more concerned or agitated than he was. Besides actually being on board the gunship, he felt like he was being bombarded and each new revelation had numbed his emotions to the point that he was simply observing these astounding events rather than reacting to them. It was his nature: things happened to him and he’d react later. It was somewhat off-putting to some; they felt he was cold or uncaring, but the truth was he simply couldn’t generate an emotional response to traumatic events until he’d had time to really let it sink in. Then it would come all at once, often accompanied by the guilt of having been so distant while those around needed him the most. He’d like to be able to blame this on the war, or the military in general, but he’d always been like this. Often it had pushed people away from him. Just as his thoughts were beginning to turn back to “her,” Deetz strode back in and startled him out of his reverie.

  “Get your fill? We’re all set. The reactor is still stuck in some sort of low-output mode, but the field emitters are fully charged and ready so we can enter slip-space. We’re still going to have to use the main engines in normal space though.” Deetz gracefully swung its mechanical body into the command seat and looked over to Jason expectantly. The human took one last, lingering look at Jupiter before headin
g back to what he now thought of as the copilot’s seat.

  “Let’s do it. What’s the plan?”

  “We could jump to slip-space within the system, but that takes a lot of energy since we’re so close to the primary star, and a gas giant as well. The ship is only just now slip-capable again. There’s no point in pushing it too hard until we get to a proper repair facility.” Deetz began to accelerate the ship, preparing to swing around Jupiter and slingshot out towards the outer Solar System and the heliopause. Jason could feel the pulsating rumble of the four main engines as the gunship roared around the enormous planet, but with the compensators fully engaged he didn’t feel even the slightest sensation of the brutal acceleration.

  The trip out of his native star system was mostly uneventful for Jason. He had hoped for a flyby of one of Earth’s robotic space probes or some other such excitement, but other than a disinterested blip from the ship to let him know he was passing an artificial construct, there was nothing to see. Even at over four hundred and fifty Gs of initial acceleration (it had taken a few minutes to explain to the computer the unit of measure he wanted acceleration displayed in), the view outside the canopy didn’t change. They would not be flying near any other planets on their way out to the Kuiper belt, and even then it was highly unlikely there would be anything more to see. Jason had fallen for the same misperception many people did when viewing diagrams and renderings of nearby space: everything seemed so close and accessible when seeing it on a single page. The reality was that the distances and speeds involved were so great that other than Sol itself, the “crowded” Solar System was very much empty space with nothing to see. Jason slouched back into the copilot’s seat and stared off into space, literally, as the ship continued its long climb up out of the gravity well.