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To Boldly Go
By C.L. Nelson
|
CHAPTER ONE
Captain Robert April looked down at his coffee, allowing his thoughts to concentrate on the blackness. Never before had he considered himself anything more than a warrior of the stars. His duty was to his people first of all, the human race needed him, and he swore to protect them. That was fourteen years ago. The Romulan-Earth war was over, and he'd gone back to the routine tasks of training and practicing for the time when war would again come to the galaxy, and he'd be off to protect them again. But this request was different. He be doing something never before accomplished by a Space Command officer. It was a hard call to make.
"Well, Bob?" Admiral James asked.
April looked out through the office window, observing the work on his ship. The Battleship Exeter. Starbase 9 was arranged so that the dry-docks were inside the station's mass, with the offices and living quarters circling around it. All windows faced either inward toward the giant bay or outward toward the stars.
"It's not really something I'd ever consider doing voluntarily," he said.
"Space Command has been playing with this idea, even before the war began," James explained.
"I never considered myself an explorer."
"Nobody in Space Command has. We haven't had exploration for forty years, at least since-"
"The Bonaventure incident, I know."
Not since saucer ships had there been any sort of mission like this. Many years ago a select few had gone out into the galaxy, just to see what was out there. They were basically long term missions and the crews were hand-picked and specially trained. The crews never intended to return home for hundreds of years. None of them ever did return. The ships were either presumed lost or destroyed. Only one had ever made it back from a voyage, and it was now on display at the Smithsonian Institution on planet earth, just outside the Air and Space museum. That was before the Cochran Warp Drive, which allowed ships to go great distances in less time. It also led to the Romulan War. The Bonaventure was an extraordinary ship, the first of its kind to have the wondrous Cochran Warp Drive. The maiden voyage had been ballyhooed throughout the planet, with media coverage in every known language. Her mission was to go out and chart the galaxy, explore new worlds, then report back to headquarters with their findings. Two days later, Space Command lost all contact with them. Her whereabouts were unknown, presumed lost with all hands. The mission was regarded a failure, and interplanetary exploration was ignored as a result.
However, other ships were developed, and the business of maintaining the status quo were resumed. The development of faster-than-light travel had drawn the concerns of more than Einstein's ghost. The Romulans, fearing this development as a possible threat to their empire, attacked the Earth, bringing about the bloody, horrific three-year war. The war itself had never really ended, just a cease fire agreement, and the creation of the Romulan Neutral Zone, a free-fire zone, patrolled by Romulan warbirds.
April looked at his commander, "If you really want me to command this mission, I want my original crew."
"You'll have them. But, there'll be some additions. I'm increasing your compliment to 150. Most of those are science personnel. They'll help with analyzing any data you collect. You'll transmit everything you find via subspace, but it may take some time to get here. Now, comes your first mission."
"I knew there'd be more to this," April remarked.
The window behind the admiral's desk metamorphosed into a screen, with a picture of what appeared to be a sonogram readout.
"Do you remember much about history?" the Admiral asked.
"It's not one of my specialties."
"During the mid to late twentieth century, a space probe left the planet earth. It was designed as a long-range probe to look at other planets in the solar system. It accomplished its mission, then moved into deep space, losing contact with NASA, the people who sent it. Until about a month ago. The scales for measuring these readouts aren't in use today. It took many sweeps through the archives to figure this out, and we still have only part of it."
What is it saying?"
"We can't interpret all of it, the method of transmission was too old. Even ago. That's when we saw this," the admiral motioned toward the screen.
An image of a class-M planet appeared on the screen, with some numbers running across the bottom of the picture.
"Our guys are saying that the life forms that were recorded by the probe were human."
"How is that? There have only been a few pseudo-human forms that we've been able to discover."
"Hundreds of years ago, there was a theory that mankind actually arrived on planet earth from the stars somehow. If this is information that the probe sent back is true, then there's a good chance that this theory could turn out to be correct. Unfortunately, the planet is located just outside the Romulan Neutral zone. You'll be going to the third planet."
"Oh..." There it is, he thought. The punch line. He'd only known the admiral through reputation, but the reports were he had a real penchant for using hidden agendas. What you thought you would be discussing turned out to be something entirely different. He grinned, slightly, taking a final sip from his cup and setting down on the Admiral's desk in front of him, "When do we get underway?"
"Three days."
April stood up, "Sir, that's rushing things a little. The Exeter hasn't had any serious engine work for over two years. The matter/anti-matter screens should be de-sensitized, and the sensor array never really recovered from that battering we took four years ago!"
"The orders will be ready tomorrow. Brief your crew to be underway in three days. That'll be all," the Admiral stood up, signaling that the meeting was officially over. He escorted April to the door, stopping just short as it automatically slid open, "Congratulations, Captain April. This will be the most rewarding mission of your career."
Yeah, sure thing, April thought to himself as he walked down the hall. He'd never considered himself to be anything more than a warrior. A soldier in the profession of arms. His was to command battleship, fight and win. He never considered himself the dashing explorer type. He could see the Exeter floating in the dry-dock through the hallway windows as he made his way to his room.
"Can I help you sir?" It was a Master Chief Crewman, maintenance, by the color of his tunic.
"I'm captain Robert April of the Exeter. When can I get back to my ship?" April asked. The truth was, he was really at a loss when he wasn't aboard a ship, like a fish out of water. There was always something to be done on a ship. Now her running lights were out, all main power cut throughout the ship. Starbase Maintenance was now supplying the main power necessary for the most basic ship's functions.
The chief looked at the viewboard he was holding, and touched a button which paged through the listings, "My schedule says we'll get the power back up around thirteen-hundred tomorrow. We should be finished with all the installations by then."
What installation? April thought, aghast. This must be more of the Admiral's surprises, "Can I see what you've installed?"
The chief handed him the viewboard, selecting his ship's entry on the roster. He took the pen and touched it to the surface of the board twice, and the list was replaced by another list of the work to be done. The list was astonishing. The sensors had been upgraded to twice what they were, a whole compliment of analytical machinery had been installed and hard-wired to the computer. The whole function of the ship had been altered. There were all sorts of analytical equipment and measuring devices, some of which he'd never heard of before. What did I get myself into? he asked himself. He also noticed that he was down to at least half of the normal compliment of starfighters and the missile count wasn't the normal load capacity. Slick won't like that, he thought, anticipating his first officer's reaction. He was a weapons-oriented officer. Most of his experience was in combat, starting from a starfighter jock then moving into operations. He was the type of person you needed when assessing a hostile decision. Then he noticed something else.
"What the hell is a non-vehicular transportation device!" he exclaimed.
The chief looked at the viewboard, "Oh, that. That's some new gadget that gets you to the surface of a planet without using a shuttle. I don't know much more about it, but I do know the damn thing took up a whole power distribution conduit to install. We practically needed to build a new Jeffries' tube!"
April handed the viewboard back to the chief, and set off to find his room. The passageways ran across the different ships in dry-dock. He could see all varieties of ships, frigates, and freighters. There was even a destroyer which was being refitted with a new engine, the USS Melvin -- NCC 48. Nobody he knew, he pondered, searching through his list of possible ship's captains. He could see that its nacelle had been completely separated from the rest of the ship. This job would take almost an entire stellar year to complete. He found his room, 201. It was getting late, he could tell by the dimming of the corridor lights. The door shut behind him as he made his way to the bed. The window was looking outward, toward the stars, a view which was both familiar and comforting to him.
"Thanks for coming," he began, "The reason why I called you all here is because we're changing the way we do business. We're not going to be a battleship anymore."
He could almost hear what they were thinking, all the mental gasps as they tried to put all this together. He felt all the eyes on him.
"Our new orders are as follows:" he began reading the document from the four-sided view screen in the center of the table, "'To seek out new life, new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before and report these findings directly to Headquarters Space Command in the interests of scientific exploration.' This means, that we have to be even sharper than we were before. We don't even know what we're going to be facing this time. It may be friendly or it may be hostile. Whatever we find, we'll have to be ready for what happens. I need each of you thinking and prepared for action. The power goes back on at thirteen hundred. I want each of you to be on deck and ready. We've got a short deadline to make."
"Captain," addressed Commander Szylnick, "We still have to get the rest of the complement aboard and ready. This could take a little time."
"We don't have it, Slick. We're going to have to train them in space," April could see that this type of thing didn't sit well with his first officer, but he knew the stakes. Szylnick had been as good as they come, serving for him through the last part of the war. He was good at organizing, kept everything on time and knew how to get the job done. That was one thing that Aprildidn't have to worry about, "Jarvis, we're going to need a complete power diagnostics on the engines. I want to know exactly what we have to work with. That's all I have, see you on the ship."
They all filed out of the room, muttering about the amount of work needed to bring the ship back up to speed, but not loud enough to be heard by their captain. It would get done, regardless of the cost. Captain April got them home from Aragon core, they owed him their lives.
"Excuse me, sir," a female voice interrupted through the shuffling of people leaving the room.
April was taken by surprise. She was petite, maybe a little over five feet tall, he guessed. She had shoulder-length reddish-brown hair and green eyes that seemed to reach out and grab you. She wore the tunic of a science officer, a Lieutenant Commander, looking at her stripes. That would've put her date of entry into the service about ten years ago, he figured. There weren't many women who had that much time in since the start of the war. He wasn't aware of a female being a member of his crew, either. It wasn't commonplace. It used to be, before the Cochran Drive, but when the war came, the standing order was no females aboard warships. Too many were lost during that first year of the war. Space Command, at the urging of the world government, eliminated all females from warship duty. The space program was just now beginning to open back up and posts were once again becoming available to women, but most who entered the service now were still ensigns or at the most lieutenants. For the most part, women still filled positions on non-mobile stations, such as starbases and deep space stations. When the war began, Romulans were winning. On average, a crew was made of up to fifty percent female. Many ships were lost during the first year. This led to cries of outrage on the homefront. When the concerns of propagating the human race came about, many of the earth's leaders felt that there were too many women being sacrificed, and that it could have a detrimental affect on the human race as a whole. World government was receiving a lot of pressure from the public concerning a population crisis caused by a severe drop in the total female population. If more were lost, people thought, humans as a race would be in danger of becoming extinct. As a matter of survival for the human race, women were no longer to serve on warships. The measures were drastic, causing a lot of upset and protests, but it calmed the general population of earth, and their opinions.
"Who are you?" he asked.
She introduced herself as Lieutenant Renee Giraud, Science Officer.
April tried not to stare at her, but his years of service sold him out.
"You're not used to a woman crew member, are you?"
"It's been a while"
"Don't worry, I am fully capable of serving aboard a warship. I have even trained for combat"
"You didn't get out with the rest of them?"
"I didn't have to. Science was never affected by the ruling. This is the first time that there's been an opening for a science officer on a battleship. I thought it'd be a change from the usual stationary labs I'm used to."
"I see," he acknowledged.
"I sincerely hope that my contributions will be a valuable asset to this crew."
"I'm sure there will be a need for science somewhere on this voyage. We're starting out for unknown territory."
"With all due respect, captain, you don't sound like you care all that much for what I do."
April tried to stay calm, forcing a smile. The truth was, he wasn't really enthusiastic about all this. He'd seen his ship reduced to something other than the great battleship that it was and she was just another instrument of its demise. He was a warrior, not an explorer! Why did he need all these nonessential weenies along for the ride? It seemed stupid to him, "Commander, I've been in situations which were dangerous and hostile. Everyone had to pull together if we were going to survive."
"And you think science has no place aboard a battleship."
"Let's just say I'll believe it when I see it. Analysis has it's place, but not on the bridge of a warship."
"Captain, are you aware of the nature of this assignment?"
"Yes. We're exploring the unknown, whatever that means."
"You really don't understand the opportunity you've been given, do you?"
"I know we're going into the great blue younder--"
"Captain, you're no longer fighting a war! Your ship is now a ship of peace! This is a brand new era in Space Command!"
"Well, the last attempts at peaceful exploration wound up as failures. What makes you think that we'll be successful?"
Giraud stared at him, her eyes piercing, "Because I beleive the human race to be something more than just a violent, egotistical band of conquerors. We're ready to move on to the next phase in our development as a people."
April tried not to roll his eyes. She was an idealist of the worst kind. He guessed that her being filed away in little research stations far removed from the mainstream of Space Command influenced her opinions. Battleship duty would change that, he thought. He extended his hand, "Welcome aboard, Lieutenant," he said.
She cut to the chase, "There is the matter of the sensor arrays. in order to get good data, we'll need to be sure that all the instruments are fully calibrated."
"I'm sure you'll see to it that everything is mission ready."
"Yes, sir."
He watched her walk out of the room. He hadn't ever served with a female on a warship. The last time he even worked with one was the ridiculous desk job he got stuck with just prior to the war. That was another bad experience in itself. Women just didn't understand him, and it usually got him into trouble. In a way, he was glad when the war came. As a matter of fact, it was the war which was responsible for getting him out of a bad situation.
***
The ship's power was back on line and everyone was moving back onto the ship. April was making a walking inspection of the ship in preparation for debarkation. Jarvis was in his office in engineering, paging through the technical notes posted by the starbase maintenance personnel on his viewboard. He was just short of jumping up and down on the deck. He was easily excited, especially when it came to new gadgetry. he seemed to really enjoy working in a new piece of equipment more than anything else. He was stocky, almost too short to meet the minimum height standards. His tunic appeared rumpled, but this was engineering, so grease and dirt were the order of the day for everyone. That's why engineers didn't wear shoulder boards or sleeve insignia. It presented a hazard around some of the more sensitive equipment. Their tunics looked more like long sleeved tee shirts. Their insignia was sewn on, over top of the Space Command patch, which was worn on the left side of the shirt. Jarvis was not one of the better looking crew members, but when it came to mechanics, he knew his stuff.
"I don't believe this!" he exclaimed, " We've got the brand new propulsion units! These things were only supposed to be on the drawing board! We've got eighty five percent more efficiency than the old ones. This stuff wasn't due out until the Daedalus class ships, which they just started building!"
"That much?" April replied.
"Sir, we can run circles around any warbird. Even the Koth's"
"Actually, I haven't looked over the maintenance records yet."
"They've got a new debarkation system aboard, too. It's called a non-vehicular transport device. You should see the specs for this thing."
"I knew it was coming. I got to look at the manifest last night. It sounds dangerous."
"Not really, you just get a feeling of disorientation, like going into a light room from a dark one with a head cold."
"You've been on one?"
"They asked me to do a power requirement survey on it about a year ago. It's a great theory. I tried it this morning. It's called 'beaming'."
"That's nice," April tried to change the subject, "How do the engines look?"
"We've got at least twice the power output with these things. Probably to run all this new equipment they've put on."
"Captain!" Szylnick called from the doorway, "May I talk to you a minute?" Szylnick was a slim man, with a narrow face and thin facial features. His brown eyes seemed to pierce you from wherever you stood facing him. His tunic was crisp, with a sharp appearance one saw from a recruiting vidshow. His commander's shoulderboards gave him the authoritative look which commanded respect, and the crew always gave it to him.
April left the engineer to his engines, satisfied by what he'd heard. Next problem, he thought.
"What is it?"
"We've lost at least half the weaponry we had before. There's no aft missile bay, the laser turrets have been modified, and the outboard defense modules are gone!"
April wondered what took him so long to figure that out. That was Slick's way, he thought, weapons first. His combat experience was invaluable on the bridge. April was inclined to agree with him, but this mission would be different.
"It's a new mission now. Hunting season's over." April told his first officer.
"How the hell are we going to defend ourselves?"
April actually had the same thoughts. He wasn't pleased with what was being done to his ship. All this nonsense was beyond him, but if this is what Space Command had wanted him to do, then he'd do it. He looked around the engineering section. It was a flurry of activity as the crew prepared to get underway. Szylnick was justified in being upset, a ship without weapons was, well unprepared. He was dual-hatted with the responsibility of being the weapons officer, or wizzo, as they are known in the business. The lack of weaponry was understandably upsetting to him.
"Look," April explained, "I don't like a lot of this, either. We're Space Command Officers. We have a job to do. If we can survive Romulans, we can survive this. Let's try to look at this from a positive angle, shall we?"
"All right," Szylnick agreed, "But if we have to engage anything out there..."
"I know I can count on you to do whatever you can to protect the ship."
Szylnick just stood there. The captain was right. All he could do was use the tools he had to protect the ship. The captain would make sure they were all right.
"Bridge to all sections, report."
One by one, all the section heads acknowledged his request, and things seemed to be going as planned, with all sections ready for space.
"Engines are on line," reported Jarvis, "Standing by."
April looked around at his crew. This was it, the great unknown. He looked at his First Officer, seated at the weapons console aside of the helm. He motioned to his communications officer to open the hailing frequency.
"Exeter is prepared to leave the dock. Standing by for clearance."
"This is Starbase 9 flight operations, you are locked into sequence, initiate when ready."
The clamps let go of the from of the primary hull, swinging downward, away from the ship. There were no longer any maintenance crew personnel moving around in the dock area. The whole dock had been evacuated, all the crews now reassigned to other ships which were being worked on. The tower controller pod moved directly over the Exeter, observing the ship's movements as it drifted in the dock. The Bay doors were opening, revealing the dark of space. The controller looked down at her console, taking careful aim with her sight. The X box was now locked onto the center of the Exeter's primary hull. She pushed the hail button, which kept her in contact with the occupants of the ship, now floating freely in the dock.
"Prepare for ejection, Exeter. Thirty seconds..."
On the bridge, Captain April addressed the crew, "All hands, prepare for ejection!"
The crew began taking seats, adjusting their restraint belts, as they sat. The controller counted down the seconds as the bay doors opened completely. Final checks were made, equipment prepped, stowed or activated, depending on its function.
"Five...four...three..."
A steady rumble grew from the lower decks of the ship as the engine were activated in preparation for departure.
The controller touched her finger to the trigger on the control stick, counting down the last few seconds, "Two...One..."
The trigger fired a beam of energy, directly at the center of the primary hull. This caused the ship to lurch backward, out of the dock into space. Outside the dock, searchlights lit up the area, allowing the many outcroppings on the station to be seen by the ship's navigation team,
Exeter drifted backward, moving away from the station. On the main screen, the station grew smaller, looking more like a toy than an inhabited space vehicle.
"Starting maneuvering thrusters," the helmsman reported.
The ship turned away from the station, following the beacon outward. The searchlight's beacon acted as a fixation point, allowing for the navigator to set the astrogator, zeroing in on its path. In this case, the setting was 275 degrees. Thrusters on Exeter guided the ship about, still following the beacon outward, away from the station.
"Distance from starbase," April requested.
"Two hundred kilometers, sir."
April called to his engineer, "Initiate warp drive."
The navigator continued counting the distance, "Three hundred..."
"Helm, follow this course. Engage warp drive, now!"
The ship lurched forward as the additional power shoved them deeper into space.
"Message from Starbase 9, sir. We're clear of the spaceport. They also said have a nice trip."
Very funny, thought April.
"I'd like to take a long-range scan of this area. There are a lot of ghosts showing up in the readings."
"Stand by, Lieutenant."
"Sir, we have a patrol standing by with buoys loaded," reported the first officer.
"Launch when ready."
***
Two starfighters left the flight deck, in formation moving toward the front of the ship. They passed directly over the bow, briefly becoming visible on the forward viewer. Most visible was the rocket trails, blazing bright orange streaks across the stars. They moved outward from the ship, splitting off in opposite directions. The flight commander radioed back to the ship.
"This is Quest leader, we're in position."
Szylnick waited for the captain's acknowledgment. In this case, it was a simple nod of the head.
"Deploy your buoys."
The fighters each released a canister with an antenna on the top. These outcroppings unfolded to become a large dish. The dish itself grew to twice the size of the canister. There was now another outcropping on the other side of the canister. This contained a different style of antenna.
Each fighter took up a position between a canister, hovering there, motionless.
The flight leader waited a few minutes, watching the display on his screen. The computers on board were transferring information from Exeter to the starfighters, which were receiving information from the canisters. After a moment, the display screen on the leader's starfighter was displaying the message 'SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE. BEGIN TRANSMISSION.'
The acknowledgment made its way back to the bridge, and Giraud started the scan. It appeared that the sensors weren't all that wrong. One of the objects was pretending to be a ghost, but it had definite form, and depth. It was also moving at close to the same speed as they were. This could be a problem.
"It appears, captain, that someone has been following us."
April turned to face Giraud, "Can you get enough for an identification?"
"Still checking. Computers interpreting the download now. We should have an image in a few minutes."
Who the hell would be following us out this far? April thought.
"Helm, come to new heading, 159 mark 67, slow to normal speed."
"Aye, sir."
"What do we have now, Lieutenant?"
Giraud looked down at her instruments, trying to focus on what they'd picked up.
"Not enough for a snapshot, sir. It's gone."
"I have a solution for its last known position," Szylnick reported.
"Stand by missile one," replied April. Looks like it's not going to be so uneventful after all, he thought.
Giraud grabbed the printout from her workstation, "I have it, but there's not much here. Looks like the computer threw in a lot of guesswork to come up with an ident."
April walked over and took the printout from her hand, analyzing the picture thoroughly. It was hard to distinguish exactly what the ship was, although the computer had roughed out a fairly disk-shaped form. Outcroppings from each side could possibly be engine nacelles, or it could just be sensor shadowing. It was anybody's guess. The war fighter in him said it was Romulan.
"This could be a warbird. Szylnick, look at this. What do you make of it?" he asked.
Szylnick scanned the printout, judging all aspects of what he was looking at which was basically a radio telescope image enhanced by computer program, which just tried to amplify the strength of the pixels being sent to it by the remote feed. The form looked like familiar Romulan design. He'd seen one or two during battle. They always painted a mean-looking bird of prey on the underside of their birds. Popular speculation was that this was to scare their enemies in ancient times, before the days of star travel. It seemed kind of ridiculous to him, considering the only time you could even see it was when the battle searchlights were lit up. Otherwise, they just faded into space, like the rest of the stars.
"These could be engine nacelles," he speculated, pointing at the outcroppings from the disk in the center, "This outcropping here on top could be the conn tower. Here's where the bridge would be."
"The pylons don't look right, though," April explained, "Look at this. Most Romulans put the forward ends of the pylons at a ninety degree angle. That way, they can operate in the inner atmosphere, possibly landing the things. We never got that much intel, but that was what we suspected they were doing when we got hit at Aragon."
"We never did find out, either..." The voice of the helmsman trailed off, becoming consumed in the memory. Lieutenant J.g. Eric Schmidt was only an ensign at the time. His time on the bridge was rather limited back then. He was only on the bridge to deliver some information from the nav center. that's when everything went sideways. The bridge had erupted in flames. The current helmsman was ripped apart by the blast. Schmidt had tried to pull him away from the fires, grabbing an arm. It turned out that was all he had. The rest of the body was in pieces on the floor. After the fires started, he found himself grabbing the fire extinguishers and beginning recovery operations. The ship was hit so hard, it was spinning around on its center axis. The fire was put out on the console, and the backup bus was activated, giving control back to the helm. He quickly manned the station, assumed a course and got the ship
out of danger. Most of the bridge crew was either killed or knocked unconscious by the initial blast, and he had been spared that, by the position where he was standing on the bridge. Initially, the mission was to find out where the Romulans were operating out of, suspecting their capability to land directly on a planet's surface. They had to turn back with 50% casualties. They'd been lucky to have survived at all. The war had ended about a week later, amazingly enough. They still carried the "scar" from that attack, right across the starboard side of the primary hull. Then the ghosts of battle faded and Schmidt was back in the present, still a little shaken from the memory.
"I want these bastards!" exclaimed Szylnick.
"There is a possibility that this isn't a Romulan at all," Giraud reminded them, "We're not even sure of what we're looking at."
"Agreed," April replied, "We need more info. Slick, get those fighters out there, let's see if they notice anything peculiar. Helm, give me an ETA towards our mission goal."
"Three hours, twenty minutes, sir. We'll be in orbit around the third planet in the system."
Giraud went back to her instruments, "We're receiving the signal that we were briefed on. It is the third planet, as reported."
Continue to Chapters 6-15
C.L. Nelson The Early Years To Boldly Go, Ch 26-Fin |
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