lancer
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Joined: 10/18/2005
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“Anomaly! Life Form!” shrieked the tech, staring at his console, his whole body vibrating harder than a tuning fork.
Captain Wally snapped to attention as if he’d just been cattle prodded. “REPORT!”
Frantic activity. Muttering. Cursing. Arms windmilling. Sharp reminders to maintain discipline.
And a buzz. A growing, decibel-killing buzz. Three months of deep space nothingness and suddenly there was excitement in the air. Things were about to happen. Activity. Action. Danger.
I peer over the shoulder of S.E Spence as he wrestles with screens exploding with cascading data and warnings.
Gravimetric Survey has located a structure well out – at least 10 AU – from the G-class star of Ubrua Scae. Out where the Oort Cloud would normally be.
Unable to provide any more detail the techs try to lock down a more precise answer with the use of the ‘Lazy Sal’s’ Proximity Arrays.
“Captain, structure appears to be artificially constructed. Sensors are picking up a large scale life form nearby within the asteroid field.”
“Tell me,” snaps Captain Wally, still in head up, shoulders back, full-on naval command mode, “about the life form.”
“Almost as large as our ship, Captain. Hard to say but given the readings I’m getting it appears to be biological”.
“Confirm!”
“Unable to do so, Captain. I’m not picking up any emissions typical of either Caslon or Hydrogen powered engines, a negligible heat signal and no scanner emissions.”
Now this is interesting. Current Astrobiological thinking confidently predicates no viable life forms outside of planetary environments. Creatures need an atmosphere to ingest, be it oxygen, sulphur, methane, whatever.
Have to metabolise something. Energy in, energy out. Basic law of the Universe.
I know this ‘cause I’ve read it. Been reading a lot of late.
So what we have here must be a stealthed alien vessel utilising an unknown propulsion system with its sensor suite switched to passive.
Bugs. Sneaky Bugs.
Which is exactly what Captain Wally, standing straight and tall, thought to. “Shields up. Sound battle stations! Engineering prepare to engage hyper drive.”
“Sir! Contact Master One firming up as biological. No indications of any onboard weapons systems.”
Everybody knows that the empty vacuum of space can’t host life ‘cause the only energy available is the solar wind, which 10 AU out from a G-class star, would be weaker than an asthmatic bee trying to blow out the candles.
S.E Spence piped up. “Captain, the structure anomaly warrants our attention. If this turns out to be the remnants of another civilisation then we are duty bound to investigate.”
“Understood!” barks Captain Wally, now so rigid he was suffering metal fatigue, “we’ll jump across to the anomaly but I want the hyper drive to remain on line for a rapid egress if need be.”
Whoop, whoop, whoop! I strapped myself in and hold on tight.
Dropping out of hyper space is a lot more enjoyable than entering it. A gentle swishing motion as if you are being caressed by peacock feathers wielded by a dozen virtuous virgins.
Three months of being surrounded by gorgeous, unattainable ‘entertainment’ officers and all I can think about is virgins. Not a healthy sign. Time for a change of scenery.
I confront Captain Wally and demand to be included in the boarding party.
He doesn’t answer. Other matters intrude.
“Captain! Contact Master One confirmed as a biological entity. Heading our way. Second contact, Master Two, 0.25 AU further out, also biological.”
“Any signs of hostile intent?” Demands Captain Wally, visibly tense.
“Unknown, Sir. Master One anticipated intercept in two hours. Recommend we head south west towards the anomaly.”
Space Critters!
Forty minutes later finds us at the anomaly fast approaching the shuttle deployment envelope.
The boarding team, myself included, a packed into the rear of the shuttle along with a copious amount of equipment.
I had been expecting a lot of nonsense from Captain Wally about the dangers involved but not a whisper. He seemed pleased to have me leave his ship.
My seat comes with a five point seatbelt. For a reason. Nothing smooth or quiet about a red-liner shuttle transfer.
Captain Wally made it clear that if we’re not back within the hour then don’t bother trying. The “Lazy Sal” would proceed on course without slowing. Pick-up point on the far side of the structure.
If we make it.
Pilot took it too heart. Rammed us forcibly across the space gap with both engines on one hundred and twenty percent power. Inertial dampers set to minimum to amplify the swing as we thumped hard up against the berthing buffers.
Pulling heavy G.
My mouth slammed shut and my teeth bit through my tongue. Swallowing blood. Sense the animal within. I unholster my phaser.
Sergeant Troy plants explosives over the external access hatch.
“Fire in the hold!”
Vacuum magnifies the force. Shuttle cabin rocking every which way. Concussion wave pressures up my ears. Hard to hear.
“Go, go, go!”
Frantic rush to the only exit. I get pushed to the rear. No respect for the aged. Burly suited figures thrust through the opening in the hull and disappear.
Pitted metallic surface. Been here for a while.
Dark inside. Banged my knee. Switch on torch. Trail of Lumo markers show where the entry team have gone. Energizer bunnies disappearing down the rabbit hole.
A corridor. Human dimensions. Grey. Gridded walkway. Ancient light fittings. Dust. Lot of dust. Swirling through the torch light. Mask filter working overtime.
Clagging up my face plate. Electrostatically adhering to the carbo-perspex. Constantly wiping it clear.
Everything looks dead and deserted.
Just as well. Couldn’t see a threat if it popped up and punched me on the nose. Ordered to reholster phaser pistols. Risk of friendly fire.
Make it to the bridge. Panting. Expiring. Suit too hot. Can’t find the thermostat controls.
Nobody offers to help.
Flop down into a nearby chair. Clearly made for humans. Need to get my breath back.
Tech’s working hard at downloading the central data core. Wires everywhere.
Digitised 3D wonderland from temporary holo-screen bank as miniaturised spy bots creep and crawl their way throughout the structure.
Feeling hot and old. Ignored by all.
Creaking bones, wrinkly skin and a never-ending tightrope of back to back heart pills is a heavy price to pay for the privilege of being on the cutting edge of exploration.
The dawn of a new era for the human race.
I’ve faced – in my previous life - my share of dawns when I’ve woken with a mouthful of furry mammalian badness and a mirror that confuses me with the recently deceased.
I can handle this one.
* * *
Captain Wally orders the drone to be loaded with the structures data core. Big news. Sending it straight back to Zion.
Initial analysis indicates a small, aging, space port built over one hundred years ago to mine the asteroid field. Recovered records from the core tell a story of initial euphoria followed by despondency as each successive freighter was destroyed by the monsters.
Refers to them as ‘Giant Kaltors’. Space Station had to be abandoned five years after it was built.
Sweepstake amongst the Astrobiologists over whether the Kaltors metabolise dark matter or instead slurp up bosons from deep within the gravity well.
Who exactly, ask I, interrupting, built the station? Humans from Earth?
“That is classified information that I’m not at liberty to divulge,” replies Captain Wally.
But I’m your Emperor! Besides, who am I going to tell? The walls?
“Navy regulations, Sir, forbid ….”
I recognise an immovable object when I see one. Son of Igor can doubtless hack into whatever database at a later point and retrieve the information for me.
If the drone is going back to Zion then it might be time for me to be going with it. Three months of Captain wired-to-the-rule-book Wally is about as much as I can manage.
“Sorry Sir, no can do. The drone has no life support capabilities. Totally automated.”
Oh. Well then we’ll just have to hyper space the ‘Lazy Sal’ back to Zion and drop me off. I have important matters to attend to, planet side.
“Yes of course Sir, we’ll be returning to Zion just as soon as we run low on fuel. We all need to keep uppermost in our minds that we are Explorers and that our job is to Explore!”
As if I’d forgotten. I was trapped on a defenceless ship run by a naval rule zealot.
Doomed to wander the galaxy until the end of time. Exploring.
I returned to my cabin to explore the depths of my despair.
All those glitzy little bottles of liquor that came with my V.I.P cabin package beckon. The very bottles that I’m under strict medical instructions not to touch.
If I crush a few heart pills and mix them all together then perhaps they won’t kill me.
D*mn I’m depressed.
To be continued...
Lancer
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