Dark Echoes - Part 2

After taking a much-needed shower and dressing in a change of clothes and a fresh, pressed uniform he found hanging on the inside of the facilities room eight feet from his hospital bed, Aaen carried the black envelope with him to the recreation deck to greet his crew. They would most likely be in the ship doing pre-launch procedures, he reminded himself. He picked up the black briefing and proceeded through an organized maze of well-lit metal corridors, walking briskly past station crew members to the hangar deck.

His ship was resting in a cargo bay full of personnel dressed for various technical engineering duties, some of which pertained to his Odyssey. The back ramp was down and a cargo delivery was being anti-gravity lifted into Odyssey’s cargo hold. Maybe they were loading a few more torpedo warheads?. . Who knows, Aaen told himself, dismissing the possibility. He waited for the lift to clear the foot of the ramp before he walked up the ramp, then quickly made his way to deck one. As he expected, the bridge was abuzz with his rested, enthusiastic bridge crew performing prelaunch systems checks. They looked rested and emotionally relieved to have been able to talk to their families for however long before going on duty. The Union had a proud and formidable military. Part of that achievement was making sure its personnel maintained contact with those closest to them. The average secured video chat time was usually about thirty minutes to an hour; longer for anyone at or above an Ensign. The crew had concluded their video chats with a smile. When Commander Smith noticed their Captain approaching the airlock door, he snapped-to and shouted, “CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE!”

In an instant, they stopped what they were doing and then snapped to attention behind the facing seat to their respective computer terminal, facing the airlock door to the bridge. Aaen stepped onto his bridge and looked around, noting a subtle change in air pressure from the hangar bay. Despite a moment of light-headedness, Aaen grinned and looked around in appreciation for the military gesture—he was equally as eager to give his first order of the day with a slight grin as he took his seat and faced aft, “At ease,” their stance at attention relaxed immediately as they looked at their commanding officer in the field. This was a crew who was happy to see their captain on board, in part because they knew their captain was glad to see them up and about.

“Crew, as you may already know, the orders we were given have been re-issued to two other crews. We have a new assignment, and we’re to launch by 21-hundred-hours,”

The crew acknowledged with a nod.

“Sir,” Smith approached the center seat offering a print detailing the prelaunch check results. Good, Aaen nodded, she was ready to launch. It was 20:59 hours.”

“Alright, let’s get to our launching stations,”

Smith pointed at Hayes, “Commander Smith to all hands! Prepare for departure!”

She nodded and immediately began to transmit the message throughout the ship using the ship’s internal computer network.

Aaen looked forward and slightly to his right, “Lieutenant Hayes, patch me through to all decks,” Aaen commanded. She nodded acknowledgment. The first officer’s order had been relayed swiftly.

After adjusting a few controls on her computer, Hayes turned to the Captain. “Channel open, sir,”

Aaen held the black briefing on his lap and leaned forward at his viewscreen, eyeing the astronomical technical information displayed by the main computer. “Attention: all hands. This is your Captain speaking. As you already know, our orders have been reassigned to other ships in this sector. We have new orders,” he now had the crew’s undivided attention as his voice echoed throughout the ship. “Union Fleet Command has received word of the detection of a possible ship in distress in a distant region of space we know next to nothing about. We don’t know what the ship’s name is, but its design and configuration indicate it may be the product of human hands. Prior attempts to reach the ship have been unsuccessful—several probes has been launched to investigate and every one of the probes have been lost without a trace; presumably destroyed, likely by other interested parties for reasons as yet unknown. Right now, the only Intelligence we have is a signal the ship sent out and that was received on Earth: a simple, albeit distorted transponder code. Our orders are to intercept that ship and investigate, then report back to Command. Should our safety be threatened, or that of the other ship, we are to take any-and-all action necessary to protect ourselves, and the other ship. Command wants us to depart immediately in case the other ship is the target of a hostile agenda by any other interstellar government. More to follow. Principally, this is a reconnaissance mission. That mission status may change at any time, so try to be prepared for anything that might come our way. All hands: report to your duty stations. This is your Captain.” he gestured for the line to be closed. Three beeps confirmed the order was carried out quickly.

“Begin launch procedures,” Aaen commanded. Smith coordinated the launch protocols. In what seemed like only a few moments, Jones confirmed the personnel in the docking bay had been evacuated for safety purposes. If the environmental stabilization field were to malfunction at all, no one and nothing would be lost to the endless vacuum of space. Wilson raised the docking clamps and then expertly maneuvered the bow to the environmental stabilization field.

“Take us out—one-half-impulse,” Aaen recognized the term and remembered that sub-light speed was called something different, now. Old habits die hard, he assured himself.

“Set course for grid sector one-zero-one-four-five-eight,” Aaen commanded.

“Where is that?” Hayes asked.

Wilson checked his navigational charts, then responded, “Waaaay the heck out in the middle o’ nowhere,” he replied, modifying his tone to convey how distant and unknown their destination was. The technical data appearing on the right-hand side of his screen told him there was no reason for anyone to go there. But, he wondered, why would anyone know that unless—

His computer screen indicated the course had been successfully laid-in. The stars immediately began shifting in the viewscreen, and the crew could feel the subtle shifts in gravity from neighboring planets in this solar system, and the artificial gravity and inertia dampening array integrated into the hull commanding the brief, mild nausea away.

“Course laid in, sir. What speed?” Wilson asked Aaen.

“Translight factor nine,”

Wilson nodded wide-eyed and then executed the command on his screen.

Seconds later, Odyssey’s nacelles rapidly lit up and then the hull seemingly vanished into the distance as it was quickly engulfed in a swirling funnel of low-intensity black and white light.

“E-T-A: fifteen minutes at present speed,” Wilson declared.

“Very well, Helmsman,” Smith acknowledged.

Aaen recalled that the stealth system had been drastically upgraded. He thought about that, and what that three-star told him earlier this evening, and rhetorically mentally asked himself, ‘Why would that be necessary?’ Aaen hadn’t put in a request for any major upgrades to any particular system mainly because he didn’t see such heavy-duty ship maintenance as being necessary. . . Who did? He wondered, looking at his viewscreen, and why would they have thought any upgrade on the stealth system—of all of this ship’s systems—was necessary?

*****

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