Authors: Dave Bara
“Some kind of advanced stealth shielding, powerful enough to warp our longwave scans and mask the power plant,” said Serosian. “And that plant, if I'm reading this right, is almost half the size of B herself. It's like they hollowed her out and built the plant right inside.”
“Founder technology,” I said.
“Certainly not First Empire,” said Serosian. “And as such it is likely to have multiple access methods. You're going to have to try and interface with the console.”
“Interface? You mean touch it?”
“With your hands, yes, that's the most likely way in.”
Reluctantly I reached up with my right hand and unlocked the seal on the glove at my left wrist. I felt the glove depressurize and a damp cold crept up my fingers. My EVA suit repressurized and made a seal just below my wrist, as it was designed to do in an emergency. I pulled the glove off. The room was well below freezing and my hand began to numb almost immediately. I repeated the process, removing my right glove as well.
“Beginning interface,” I said. I looked down at the glossy black panel, then slowly touched the controls with my fingertips.
Images burst into my mind: flashes of color and shape, indiscriminate sensations of light and sound, then a burning pain crawling up my arm. I withdrew my hand and went to one knee. The images were overwhelming, and my head pounded from the interface. I couldn't see in front of my visor more than a few inches, my eyes tinged with a blinding yellow blaze and shadows of the unseen images in my head.
A wave of nausea overcame me and I fell to all fours. Hunched over and gasping for breath, I unlocked my helmet in a fit of anxiety, popping it off my head, then retched twice and vomited. After a few moments of deep breathing I regained my equilibrium, both physically and emotionally. The air inside the control room was stale but breathable. I pulled myself up to the console once again.
“Peter, are you still with me?” crackled Serosian's voice in my ear.
“I am,” I replied. “I think the console just tried to kill me.”
“I've interfaced with Founder technology before,” Serosian said. “It's not pleasant.”
“Thanks for the timely insight.” There would be pain, I knew that now, but if I was to complete my mission, it couldn't be avoided. I drew a deep breath, taking in the cold and bitter air of the control room once more, then looked down at the projector. It still hummed with its blue and amber glow, and nothing about it gave me any comfort that I could shut it off. This, I decided, was an
alien
device.
I reattached the helmet to my EVA suit and locked it. I wouldn't allow myself any more moments of panic. It was now or never.
“I'm ready,” I said.
“If the console is open to your control, it will be disorienting at first. You will likely have to solve some sort of test. If you failâ”
“I don't want to know,” I said. I looked down at the board once more.
“So be it,” I said aloud, and pushed both my hands into the console, all the way up to my wrists. Colors and images, symbols and numbers, mathematical equations beyond my understanding, and strange structures of sight and sound filled my senses. The impression of pain ran up my arm, inexorably moving toward my head. Upon reaching my brain the pain abruptly stopped and was replaced by a sensation of warmth. I wondered if there were nanites, micro-machines, pouring through my bloodstream and into my brain. It felt like I was being drained of
me
, of my consciousness, as if the machine was reading my every memory, all my thoughts and intents. Just as I felt I was about to lose myself to the machine I suddenly flashed to full awareness of the system I had now merged with.
It was as if I instinctively knew what the systems were for, what the symbols meant, how all the interfaces worked, like being one with the Gods.
I was in control.
I freed my right hand and it flashed over the control board, activating systems, checking others for preparation, dispensing codes for boot sequences. I was in an altered state of consciousness, but it was like I was merely a linked part, an automaton with a mission to complete.
I could understand and react to the language of the machine, but I couldn't retain it. Like I was speaking in tongues without knowledge of what I was saying.
Suddenly, with a loud crack inside my mind and a flash of white light I found myself free of the console and sitting on my backside, hands behind me. I had no idea how long the process had taken, but my intuition told me it was measured in seconds, or fractions of seconds.
The nausea returned abruptly and I peeled away the helmet just in time to vomit again. As a chalky white fluid passed out of me I realized what was happening: the nanites were eliminating themselves from my body. Apparently I didn't rank high enough on the divine scale to retain the knowledge of the Gods, or at least of the Founders, and I was in many ways thankful for that.
I reattached my helmet and gloves, resealing my suit against the elements of the station. I looked to the cavern. The projector was glowing with an intense orange light.
As I watched, the deck beneath me began to vibrate and I held on to the console for support. The power in this unknown device was building beyond anything I had ever seen. I watched as the gun rotated and raised itself, pointed toward the deep black membrane in the cavern's ceiling. An amber beam lanced out of the cone of the projector and into the membrane, where it seemed to vanish. I could only assume it was projecting its energy somewhere into space.
“What's happening down there?” came Serosian's voice over my com.
I took a deep breath before answering. “Apparently I've shut down the self-destruct sequence and activated the jump gate. Can you confirm?” I said. It took a few seconds before Serosian answered.
“Confirmed Peter. The jump gate is active. Sending down the recovery shuttle. Good job. You did it.”
“Thank you. I just wish I knew
how
I did it.”
“The important thing is that the gate is open. The
Impulse
rescue mission is on.”
I looked down at the console, an alien device that had for some reason chosen to help me and not destroy me.
“On my way,” I said, heading out of the control room, on my way back to
Starbound
.
Departing Levant
M
aclintock had us locked down and ready to go in less than two hours. We said our goodbyes to the First Contact team on Levant, and I even managed to get a goodbye note to Janaan loaded in the packet. By the time we returned here,
if
we returned, the Union Navy would have half a dozen support ships in the system, and word was the Lightship
Valiant
and its captain, Wynn Scott of Earth, were on their way as well.
We still had no way of knowing where we were going, what star system or what part of the galaxy we would end up at, or if it would even be the same location as the one
Impulse
had jumped to. It was a massive risk to the Union Navy to send
Starbound
through the jump gate and risk losing her, but it would be an even bigger loss if we let
Impulse
disappear without a rescue mission.
I took my station on the bridge at 1300.
Starbound
was set up slightly differently than
Impulse
had been, but in most respects the bridge was identical. I checked out my longscope and ran her through a series of initial display checks under the watchful eye of Commander Kierkopf. She hadn't said much since my return from L-4b, but she didn't have to. I knew she was pissed about being excluded from the crisis, but we both knew Maclintock had made the right call. She paced the bridge like an impatient panther waiting for her prey to arrive on the scene.
Colonel Babayan rang in from the hangar deck as I was preparing for my second systems check.
“Have you decided what you're going to tell Maclintock about last night?” she asked. I held the com receiver to my ear silently for a few seconds, then:
“I have no idea what you're talking about, Colonel,” I said.
“I think that's a wise course,” she said.
“Mmm. And how are things down in the monkey pit today?”
“We're all packed and ready for jump stations. Just waiting for the call,” she said. I paused again before responding.
“Let's hope there is no need for a call, Colonel,” I said.
“Amen to that,” she replied, then hung up the line.
Maclintock took the deck promptly at 1400.
“Anything to report, Mr. Cochrane?” he asked as he took the center seat.
“I report all is go for jump. All systems nominal, all personnel at stations.”
“Anything to report from overnight?” he said casually, looking down at his afternoon log. Lt. Cox had no doubt mentioned the incident on the hangar deck in his report.
“Absolutely nothing, sir,” I said, keeping my eyes riveted to the streaming systems reports on the tactical screen.
“Are you sure, Commander?” Maclintock asked, pressing me. I turned and looked him in the eye.
“Dead sure, sir,” I said. He flipped through the pages of the report, scanning them one more time, then handed it to an ensign who took it away. Then he turned his attention to the tactical stream.
“Carry on then, Mr. Cochrane,” he said.
“Aye, sir!” I snapped, then stepped forward and yelled down at Layton when his nav stream dipped below minimums. Maclintock called me back to join him and Dobrina.
“Incidentally, good job down on B today Mr. Cochrane,” he said as we huddled around the captain's chair.
“Thank you, sir,” I replied. Dobrina stiffened at the praise sent my way. Maclintock didn't fail to notice.
“Commander Kierkopf, even though I placed you in charge of the mission to activate the cannon and the jump gate, I want you to know that my decision to withdraw you was strictly by the book. You're the higher-ranking officer and thus less expendable. It was a simple decision.”
“Yes, sir,” she responded, clearly not happy at being left out.
“I'll make the same decision in the future,” he continued, “so I think it best if you look at Lieutenant Commander Cochrane as an extension of yourself on these types of missions. An extension that is expendable, at least more so than you are. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she said again. Maclintock looked to me.
“Aye, sir,” I said.
“Good,” the captain said. “Now get on the horn to your friend, Mr. Cochrane. This ship needs its Historian on the bridge to make the jump.”
“Aye, sir,” I said again, then went to the com and made the call.
Serosian arrived on the bridge at 1430. Maclintock gave the order to spool the Hoaglands at 1445 as we closed on the jump gate.
“Status of the Hoaglands?” called out Maclintock.
“Spooling, warm, and ready,” I replied so all the bridge could hear.
“Gravimetric shielding?”
“One hundred percent, sir!” called Dobrina.
“Personnel status?”
“All stations report green, Captain,” I said.
“Astrogation?” I nodded down to Layton on the second tier, a silent acknowledgment that he could report his own status.
“Plotted and locked, sir,” he said. “On course to the jump gate event horizon in seven minutes.”
Maclintock turned to
Starbound
's Historian. “Mr. Serosian?”
“My board is all green, Captain,” he said in his deep and confident voice. Then he caught my eye and winked at me.
The next few minutes involved the swapping of instructions and preparation for the final traverse of the jump gate membrane. When this was complete, Maclintock leaned forward in his chair.
“Mr. Cochrane, you've been through one of these fields before. I want you to get on the intraship com and explain it to the crew, such as you can,” he ordered. I acknowledged his order and stepped up to the com at his station, opening the channel that would allow me to address the entire ship.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Peter Cochrane, reporting from the bridge. The captain has instructed me to inform you what you might expect in the next few minutes, so I will do my best to describe the experience,” I said.
“When we pass through the membrane at the jump gate, you are likely to experience an unpleasant sensation, almost like you're drowning. Don't let this panic you. It passes in an instant, almost as fast as it comes on. When we come back out into normal space you may feel strange and disassociated from yourself, almost as if you are in a new body, but let me assure you this is not the case,” I said.
“Once we get through the event the best course of action will be for you to resume your duties immediately and report your station status. By the time you finish these tasks, any unpleasant feelings will surely have passed,” I lied. They'd probably all puke, but it was my duty to reassure them. I signed off then.
“Are we ready, XO?” asked Maclintock, apparently satisfied at my performance.
“I say yes, sir,” Dobrina replied. Maclintock opened the intraship com himself then.
“Stations!” called out Maclintock. “Prepare for jump! I say again, all hands prepare for jump in two minutes.” Layton switched the main display from tactical for forward view as we closed on the membrane ring. It was illuminated with energy and pulsed every few seconds as we approached.
“Shut down the impellers, Mr. Layton. Forward momentum only,” said the captain.
“Impellers off, sir,” called out Layton from his station at the thirty-second mark in our count. This time there would be no jump key. Layton would take an active Union Navy vessel through the membrane and into unknown space by himself. I felt a knot in my stomach tighten with anxiety.
“Take us in, Lieutenant,” ordered Maclintock. I held my breath.
Ten seconds later I was drowning in black.
I fought the desire to vomit again. I'd had enough of that for one day in the control room, thank you very much. But this traverse was unlike any other, and quite different from what I had told the crew to expect. I felt like I was carrying a rock in my belly and I huddled over my longscope display, head down. With each breath the effect seemed to wear off a bit and I felt more and more normal.
“Tactical situation, Mr. Cochrane!” called Maclintock. I looked down at my plasma display.
“All clear, sir,” I said. I could hear the rough edge to my voice.
“What's our status, Historian?” he asked Serosian.
“We appear to have jumped into stable jump space, Captain. We're at station keeping, no forward momentum carried over from the jump. The area of jump space we're in is tiny and highly irregular in shape compared to a normal jump point. I would say this jump point was literally
carved
right out of normal space by some artificial means. If we weren't right on top of it I doubt our instruments could even find it,” Serosian said.
“Helm, can we retrace our steps back here if we need to exit in a hurry?” Maclintock asked Layton.
“My confidence is high in that, sir,” said
Starbound
's helmsman. Maclintock stepped up to the rail and leaned over to Layton's station.
“I don't need your confidence, Lieutenant, I need your certainty,” he said directly. “We've just jumped into unknown space which could contain numerous enemies. I need to know, can we navigate our way back to this jump space? Yes or no?” Layton looked to me and then back to Maclintock.
“We can, sir,” he finally said.
“Good,” replied the captain. He returned to his seat and then addressed me directly.
“Longscope scans if you please, Mr. Cochrane,” he said.
“Activating the longscope, sir,” I replied, then took up my station. The familiar voice of Serosian filled my ear com.
“This is very odd,” he said. “There is no hyperdimensional resonance wave . . . that's not possible, unless . . .” he trailed off. I waited several moments before speaking, growing more anxious with each passing second.
“Unless what?” I finally asked in a hushed tone, placing my head farther under the hood of the 'scope to avoid being overheard.
“Unless
Impulse
is not generating any hyperdimensional energy at all,” he said, only loud enough for me to hear. “She should have left some sort of trace signature, unless her HD power core has been removed.”
“Removed? I didn't think that was possible,” I said, trying to cover my growing uneasiness.
“It's not, Peter,” replied Serosian, “Not by any member of a Lightship crew,” then he paused. “Except the Historian.”
“Tralfane,” I said. The line was quiet for a few seconds.
“Begin spectral scans on this vector,” he finally said, feeding me display coordinates. “We've got to find that ship.”