Two weeks of shore leave had elapsed in what seemed like only a few hours, to Aaen’s moderate disappointment. He enjoyed spending time with family and friends and catching up. However, lingering in the back of his mind was a raging burst of excitement about getting back into space. The mail finally came, and his gut told him to retrieve it. He rushed to the mailbox, wrapped both of his hands around the inch-tall stack of security envelopes and then rushed back inside and loosely set the envelopes on the kitchen counter. He frantically sifted through the stack until he arrived at the bottom at one where the front-upper-left corner read “Starbase One”; and it was addressed to him. He fingered the envelope open and sharply jerked the contents out: a one-page letter with his name on it, he grinned, excited to find out what his next assignment is going to be.
He quickly began reading the letter. . . Shockingly, his chest suddenly felt heavy, his presence was simply requested in the office of Admiral Williamson this coming Friday. . . Aaen wasn’t sure if he had done something wrong, or if this request was for some other reason. Anxiety and curiosity overwhelmed him.
Friday came quickly. Aaen donned his uniform and then took his family transport to Starbase One. The transport docked in a secure holding bay. Aaen immediately proceeded through a maze of corridors and several decks toward the top of Starbase One to Admiral Williamson’s office. The secretary greeted him and alerted Admiral Williamson of his arrival. In what seemed like less than a minute, the secretary instructed Aaen to enter.
Aaen stood at attention some five feet in front of Admiral Williamson’s desk. Admiral Williamson was dressed in his duty uniform and sitting behind a large and finely polished oak desk. Behind his seat were two familiar flags aligned as perfectly as was going to be with the far edges of his desk. He was reading something on a large handheld and then set the device on his desk as he looked up at Aaen with a neutral look. “Good afternoon, Colonel. At ease. Have a seat.”
Aaen was glad to be able to relax, even if only a little bit, sitting in the left of two identical seats that looked more like slightly padded metal wire frames than chairs compared to the larger chair Admiral Williamson was sitting in.
“I’ve read the captain and first officer’s reports about the Greenpeace mission. I have also been made aware of your having been a voluntary member of Delta Force. Is that correct?”
Aaen nervously answered, “Yes, sir,” he tried hard to sound confident to hide his anxiety, but his gut told him his efforts were ill-fated to that extent. Admiral Williamson didn’t seem convinced. . .
“From what these reports indicate, there were multiple close-calls where you and numerous other crew members would have likely not made it back alive. It seems as though input that turned out to be key from you and a small number of other crew members was highly influential in the success of the activities of Delta Force, and the greater crew—”
Aaen wasn’t sure why his gut felt like it was sinking suddenly, or if the after-sensation that was tingling as it climbed up through the top of his stomach, up the inside of his sternum and continued up his throat was a good sign or not. He nodded and replied, “Yes, sir,” and then continued listening—
“Well, the rest of the crew you were working with have been assigned elsewhere at their requests, without a negative report on or about anyone, and due to some significant personnel needs throughout other ships of the fleet,” the funny tingling sensation in Aaen’s gut turned into a jittery butterfly-like sensation.
“One of the fleet’s best captains has opted for a newly-available flag-level promotion, which they have been granted. This promotion has left open a position available on a ship that I believe you might be interested in,”
Aaen was suddenly overwhelmed with curiosity. His thoughts began racing with possibilities as to what Williamson was talking about, centering on one extremely hopeful possibility; Aaen’s face suddenly felt cool as he made eye contact with Admiral Williamson and slightly nodded and subtly eagerly asked, “Sir?”
“The captain’s chair has become available on the USSC Odyssey,” Aaen felt his eyes dilating from anxious excitement, “according to your academy instructors, you have been quite eager to take command of that ship for several years?”
Aaen nodded nearly without missing a beat. He was frantically holding back his excitement. He didn’t want to do something that might cause important people from reconsidering what was being suggested. He promptly replied, “Yes, sir,”
“Well, our long-range science probes have detected a very unusual anomaly in a distant sector of Federation space about ten light-years from our border. Our scientists aren’t sure what this anomaly is, or if it’s natural or artificial, and if so, what’s causing it. The rest of the fleet is engaged elsewhere with other matters. Your performance as a cadet, and as an officer has been exemplary so far in your career. I think you’re the best candidate for the job. If you want it, command of the Odyssey is yours—effective immediately,”
To Aaen, the decision was obvious, and a long, long time coming. A years, years-long goal and milestone was finally reached—without missing a beat, he directly and enthusiastically answered, “Yes, sir,”
Williamson nodded, tapping a few commands on the handheld, and then slid the device across his desk, “Thumbprint, there, serves as your signature” he pointed. Aaen complied, using his right thumb. The device beeped a few times, then the handheld's screen turned green with an image of his face on the left, and an image of the front of the outer hull on the right, and then a female computer voice filled the room, “Command authorization: granted. Aaen Winter, USSC Odyssey.” Aaen suddenly felt powerful, more than the sense the rank he carried gave him.
“—Congratulations, captain. Keep this up, and you have a good chance of making flag in a few more years,”
Aaen nodded.
“You’re orders are to launch in one hour. Your crew has already been selected, including a few volunteers who are also enthusiastic about serving on the Odyssey. They are waiting for you on board your ship,”
Aaen nodded.
“Odyssey is docked in docking bay two, boarding ramp Alpha. Vice Admiral Call is standing by and waiting for your arrival. A yeoman will show you to your bridge,” Williamson grinned, standing up and extending his hand. Aaen shook hands with Williamson with a grin.
“Thank you, sir,”
Williamson nodded. “Best of luck, captain. Dismissed.” Williamson saw Aaen out, and then returned to the work he was completing.
Aaen eagerly walked fast nearly exactly the way he came, taking a right at a corner where he had previously gone left, to the Odyssey’s boarding ramp. The yeoman, a young slender Caucasian red-head about 5-foot-five-inches tall and wearing a dark uniform processed his arrival at a computer terminal in the ramp’s control room using Aaen’s right palm print, then the computer terminal asked for his voice authorization code. Aaen spoke the code. The screen highlighted his fingerprints in white square spaces on the right side of the screen, then his face appeared on the left above his first and last name.
He felt like a moment of truth was about to happen. She gave him his captain’s uniform specific to this ship. He donned it in seconds. He was struggling to contain his excited enthusiasm to get onto that bridge again—this time, into the big chair—as he followed the yeoman to a six-foot-tall round black hatch neighbor to its control panel on the adjacent wall. The hatch opened as he approached, revealing a glowing standing space. He entered the black rounded glowing space. The yeoman tapped an adjacent control panel, causing the hatch to close and space inside to fill with brilliant swirling light. Seconds later, Aaen found himself in another dark space, this one was not lit. He stepped forward, hearing subtle beeping computer sounds and comparably subtle subspace radio chatter from the other side of the wall ahead. He looked up slightly, he could barely make out the lettering on the metal hull in front of him. . . “USSC ODYSSEY - UNS - 1995 - A”. Right answer, so far.
“—ATTENTION, crew!” a familiar male voice yelled. It was Vice Admiral Call. “In a few moments, the hatch behind me will open and you’re captain will come aboard onto the bridge! You know the drill!”
And with that, a series of metallic clicking sounds signaled that the hatch to the bridge was unlocked, then it gradually swung open. The white light from the bridge was a welcome sight as Aaen eyed the Sensor and Tactical stations, neighboring each other. Vice Admiral Call stood just inside the bridge to the right.
Aaen took a few steps forward, feeling the warmth of the life support system engulf him as he stepped onto his bridge. . . FINALLY!
Call nodded to the first officer, “CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE!” the first officer authoritatively declared from Aaen’s left. The crew immediately snapped to attention at their stations. Vice Admiral Call looked at Aaen and gestured him to his seat to his left. Aaen pressed his left hand against a bulkhead behind the first officer’s station to try to take in the moment as he stepped up the two steps that led directly to his chair. The pilot, the communications officer, were facing forward; the first officer faced him. Aaen sat down quickly, firmly resting his arms on his chair’s armrests. Next, he looked around the aft section of the bridge and calmly and enthusiastically commanded, “Crew, at ease. You may be seated.” The crew took their stations.
The yeoman brought Vice Admiral Call a handheld. He thumbed through some information on the handheld's display, and then looked at the crew, “Captain and crew, Fleet Admiral Williamson has upgraded your launch schedule. You are ordered to launch in ten minutes. Our probes still can’t make heads or tails of that anomaly. There’s still no telling whether or not it is a natural or artificial formation. From what we can tell, the phenomenon appears to be increasing in intensity to the point that it is even beginning to disturb subspace. Your orders are to intercept the phenomenon and investigate, and then report back. Good luck.” with that, Vice Admiral Call and the yeoman left the bridge, closing the hatch behind them.
Aaen snapped around in his chair. “Main computer: online.” the lights dimmed, and more beeping sounds followed, then the lights came back up gradually. The main view screen above and centered between the pilot and the communication officer showed the Odyssey’s crest, and it’s fleet transponder identification above twin blinking white squares that moved in sequence from the bottom right and left sides of the viewscreen, respectively. “Restart ship controls to flight-operational-mode,” Aaen stated his authorization code. The computer acknowledged with more beeping sounds as the bridge computer stations chirped and the screens turned black. The crew logged-in to their respective computer stations.
“Commence main reactor activation,” Aaen commanded.
The first officer coordinated with the rest of the bridge, including the engineer, operations officer, and the communication officer. The first officer turned one of multiple small black numbered turn knobs on his angled station as the engineer and operations officer coordinated their part of this step in the launch process. The main viewscreen showed Odyssey’s reactor core, a tall clear metal device with a grey doughnut center; to the right of this image, a percentage readout showing the reactor’s power out efficiency. Sixty seconds later, it went from “0%” to “100%”. A loud series of building mechanical hissing sounds filled the bridge. With each buildup, the deck plating subtly rattled until the bridge filled with a faint, firm mechanical reverberating hum. So far, so good. Aaen thought enthusiastically.
“Main computer is online and functioning within normal parameters. The main reactor is functioning nominally.” the Operations officer, a Caucasian female with long dark hair declared. “All systems online and functioning. We’re ready to launch.”
“Hello? Is anyone up ‘dere?” a Russian male voice called through the bridge speakers.
“Yes, this is the captain speaking,”
“Oh, good evening, captain. My name is Alexander Petrolovich. I am computer specialist assigned to this ship for this mission. I was going to be assigned to dah Voyager but was transferred at last minute to dees sheep. It is werry good to be aboard, sir.”
“It’s good to have you on board, Alexander. Have you been in space for very long?”
“Yes. Most of my career, keptin. I love working with computers and being in space. I can’t wait to get underway. As I’m sure you already are aware, we need to get permission from docking control, activate the main computer, and the main reactor so we can launch da sheep,”
“Agreed,” Aaen turned forward in his chair to the communications officer, a Caucasian female approximately Aaen’s age with short brown hair. “Open a channel to docking control.”
“Captain, the ship’s assigned doctor is coming aboard.”
“Very well,”
A taller, short-haired blonde young woman dressed in a blue uniform and a white lab coat entered the bridge. She carried a tricorder and an orange vial containing colorful contents each with an “M” stamped on the top.
The order was carried out swiftly. “Channel open.” she declared confidently.
“This is Captain Aaen Winter, commanding USSC Odyssey. Request permission for immediate launch,”
“Hey, there, Odyssey. This is Sector Two docking control master.” a male voice answered with a slight slur in his speech, followed by a series of beeping sounds, “Uh, yeah, I’ve got your orders right here from Fleet Admiral Williamson. You are clear for launch. Good luck!”
“Thank you, docking control. Odyssey. Out.”
A more abrupt beeping sound filled the bridge. “Line closed.” the Communications officer confirmed.
Aaen snapped, “Helm, depressurize the docking bay, then release docking clamps and mooring rings.”
“Aye, sir!” he replied. Seconds later, an alert could be heard in the docking bay, nearly immediately followed by mechanical clacking sounds filling the bridge. The sound seemingly faded out rapidly. “Docking bay depressurized. . Docking clamps and mooring rings released. We are independent of Starbase,”
“Very well,” Aaen could see in the distance the blinking lining of the opening docking bay doors. “Thrusters ahead. .” Aaen leaned forward, looking at the opening into freedom, then commanded, “Take us out.”
“—Thrusters ahead.”
As Odyssey soared forward, the opening became larger by the second. . .and then Aaen and the crew enjoyed the sound of the thrusters through the hull as they soared through the opening. The only thing visible in the viewscreen now were the stars. FINALLY! Aaen silently rejoiced. “Set a course for the anomaly,”
“Aye, sir,” the pilot replied. Seconds later, three sets of coordinates appeared on the right side of his computer screen. He quickly entered the coordinates and then locked the coordinates into the main computer’s navigational systems. The navigational thrusters fired nearly without missing a beat. Aaen and the rest of the crew watched the stars shift position in the view screen for a few seconds, and then Odyssey leveled-out. “Now on course,” the pilot declared.
Aaen grinned as he gave in to his desire to push Odyssey’s engines as hard as he could immediately think to as he commanded, “Translight nine,”
The main computer announced the speed change, then, in what seemed like only moments later, a mechanical hum quickly built to a grumbling roar as a tunnel of glistening red, orange, green and white swirling light engulfed the ship and the space ahead seemingly as far as could be seen in the viewscreen, and then the tunnel disappeared, replaced by shooting streaks of white light passing over the hull.
“Sensors: E-T-A?” Aaen asked.
“Two minutes, at this speed, sir,”
“Very good. Communications: send Starbase One an update on our mission status and present situation,”
“Sir,” she acknowledged.
“Captain, since this anomaly is disturbing subspace. I think it’s advisable to upgrade the hull armor and shields. These types of disturbances are nearly completely unpredictable.”
Aaen nodded. “Let’s do it. I’ll have you oversee both developments. I want the upgrades done in the next thirty minutes.”
“I’m on it.”
A sensor alert seemingly passed through the bridge. “Report,” Aaen ordered.
“E-T-A: One minute.”
The hull began to rattle slightly; the sensation included the deck. “Report!” the first officer demanded as the crew braced against their stations.
“The subspace disturbances are affecting our translight field! We’re losing velocity!” the pilot replied.
“All-stop! Reverse thrusters!” Aaen commanded.
“We’re in visual range of the anomaly!” the Sensors officer declared.
“Now answering: full stop.” the main computer droned. The anti-gravity took a few seconds to compensate for the rapid change in velocity. The crew felt being pulled to the front of the bridge for a few seconds.
“On-screen!” Aaen commanded.
—The crew silently shared an overwhelming sensation of awe and terror at the sight of the violent swirling lightning storm ahead, filling the viewscreen.
“What-the-heck?. .” the first officer exclaimed.
Seriously. Aaen silently agreed. “Sensors, anything?”
“Nothing,” she replied sharply, dumbfounded. “Sensors can’t penetrate the event horizon.”
“Maybe we should launch a probe?” the first officer suggested to Aaen.
“Maybe.” The lights began to flicker erratically. Aaen looked around the bridge, “What’s going on?”
“The power grid just started showing erratic fluctuations throughout every system we’ve got! We’re losing power!”
“Gravitational currents are picking up and increasing in intensity!”
“Switch to emergency power!”
“The power loss is affecting every system, including emergency power! IT’S LIKE WE’VE BEEN HIT BY SOME KIND OF AN ELECTRO-MAGNETIC PULSE!” the Operations officer replied. “WE’RE GOING TO LOSE LIFE SUPPORT SON IF WE CAN’T GET AWAY FROM THE ANOMALY!”
“REVERSE ON IMPULSE ENGINES!”
“NEGATIVE! IMPULSE ENGINES ARE DOWN!”
“THRUSTERS!” the first officer commanded.
The pilot turned his head. “NEGATIVE ON ALL ENGINES! THE HELM DOES NOT ANSWER!”
“Weapons and shields are down!” Tactical declared; the rest of the crew reported similarly with ship systems they could access.
The lights blinked out. The crew noted the anomaly was getting bigger in the viewscreen by the second.
SHOOT! Aaen exclaimed in silence.
“EVERYONE HOLD ON! WE’RE GOING IN!” the pilot shouted over the building intensity of the deck rattling.
The center of the anomaly was the only thing visible in the center of the viewscreen. It appeared as a violent black chaotic storm with abrupt, sharp, blinding and jagged lightning shooting out randomly, lighting the center of the anomaly just enough. The rattling became so abrupt and so sharp that Aaen shouted at the top of his lungs for the crew to brace against their stations despite his struggling to stay steady in his chair.
Aaen couldn’t help but notice the cabin seemed to stretch forward. As it stretched forward, the walls, bulkheads, and even the appearance of the computer screens were shifting subtly and changing around them. “REEEPORRRT!” Aaen commanded. His speech seemed delayed in space and time—like reality, itself, was sputtering every few seconds.
The Sensor’s officer’s reply came amid growing frantic panic on the bridge, “I DON’ T UNDERSTAND HOW THIS IS HAPPENING, CAPTAIN!. . . THE MOLECULES IN THE HULL! THE DECK!. . . EVERYTHING ABOUT THE SHIP AND ITS TECHNOLOGY IS CHANGING!” the Sensors officer replied.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘“IT’S CHANGING”’?” Aaen asked.
“. . .EVERYTHING COMPRISING THE SHIP, THE TECHNOLOGY, THE MOLECULAR STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY OF THE HULL. . URGH! EVEN THE SHIP’S CREST AND REGISTRY ARE CHANGING! I DON’T RECOGNIZE ANY OF THESE READINGS!”
Aaen turned around and glared at the view screen. The storm appeared to be passing as the Odyssey’s bow continued into the heart of the anomaly; the deck rattling and the other effects gradually stopped. The crew paused for a minute to catch their breath as the computer screens and their interfaced controls showed as being operational again.
“Is everyone okay?” Aaen asked.
The crew replied that they were okay.
“Okay, I want a full ship-wide systems check. The main computer, computer subsystems, everything.” Aaen commanded.
“Life support is returning to nominal levels,” the Operations officer declared. “All ship systems are online. . . But I don’t recognize any of this technology. None of these interfaces are familiar,” the Operations officer turned their head. “I don’t know what any of this technology is.”
Aaen needed answers, turned to face the front of the bridge, “Okay, where are we?”
“. . .We’re in space, but I don’t know where in space.” Aaen turned to the Sensors officer and continued listening, “The stars and planets are familiar, but the transponder signal of that ship approaching from our one-o’clock isn’t familiar. . .” the Sensors officer pointed out, the tip of their right pointer finger following a new sensor contact on the screen, “—Woooahh!”
Aaen was beginning to ask himself if the bridge he was standing inside of was the bridge of the same ship that was given command of and that had launched about a half hour ago as he asked, “What?” while standing behind the sensor officer. Aaen and the Sensors officer were both reading the data coming in. The data’s detail and sophistication had Aaen and the Sensor officer wide-eyed.
“Whatever that thing is, it’s huge! It’s more than half a billion metric tons, and it’s headed straight for us.”
“What’s it’s identification? Can you tell?” Aaen asked, watching the large triangular black and white icon inch toward the center white dot of the sensor screen.
“. . .'New Horizon',”
*****
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