The clock buzzed, it blared its shrill alarm throughout the once quietened room. With the little sleep he had gotten in between the rattling bulkheads and turbulence the man sighed quietly, intent on not waking up, he groaned each time he heard a rattle coming from all around every few hours of the night and cursed the architects for the state of this ancient vessel. He groaned loudly when he stretched his arms out of the blankets and stared blankly toward the cold metal ceiling above. He looked around the dark room which he’d slept in and rubbed the dust out of his eyes.
“Computer: Remove window filter and turn on the lights. Forty-five percent luminosity” He spoke groggily.
A display of purples and light greens and sky-blue lights shone and flashed intermittently in the room. The lights above him slowly grew in intensity and stopped just before his eyes were strained.
Behind him, a brilliant display of lights flashed past outside the window while the ship travelled at a faster-than-light speed. Swinging his feet out of the bed, his toes recoiled to the cold touch of the metal beneath him before shambling his way to the bathroom. The man ordered the lights in the bathroom to be brought to the same intensity as the room behind him whilst cupping his hands under the water tap. The cold water splashed against his face, bringing him fully to his senses.
“Computer” He said to no one in particular. The computer responded with its distinctive beep. “Give me a general update; Location, speed and general status.”
“Current location: two-point-three light years from Terra. Current velocity: Jump twelve-point-seven. Estimated time to arrival: One hour, thirty-three minutes. General status: Number four plasma injection column is offline for repairs. Commander Hammer has logged the cause to be: Overheating.”
“Shit, again?” he mumbled to himself.
“Number two engine down to fifty-eight percent performance.” the machine spoke.
The man brought himself to don his space suit feet first, then pulled up the suit up to his thighs before sliding his arms into the sleeves. The man stepped toward a matte black rectangular object hinged on the metallic wall. He stared at it before saying “Activate mirror.” A reflection of the man materialised before him, he polished his nametag with his knuckles. Alex saw himself standing proud and straightened his posture as he examined his suit with stripes of black and red going down his chest and back. He tugged on every strap to secure it, fastened his gloves and boots to the sleeves of his suit and clasped his helmet ring into place around his neck to secure it.
Alex walked towards his door and pulled down on the handle that broke the seal between the door and the bulkhead. It hissed from the pressure and he stepped out into the dark grey corridor that ran from the Senior Officer’s quarters to the Combat Information Centre and the Bridge. Several crew members walked to and from the CIC and Bridge and saluted Alex as they walked past him. Throughout the corridor a chime sounded off followed by a standard programmed message about Alpha shift taking over the previous functions and duties of the previous shift. Another chime sounded off to conclude the announcement.
Alex strode down the corridor, returning the salutes of his crew who stood against the wall in a show of respect. He felt the shuddering through his boots and the ship shook, a mild tremor. Alex closed in on the automatic doors that led to the canteen, dozens of crewmembers of varying species entered the canteen whilst others left. The air beyond the threshold inside was rich with the equally enticing and rancid aroma of cooking oil and meat filled the air around the door. Inside, dozens of men and women lined up along the galley's length for breakfast. A rich aroma of proteins flooded into his sinuses. Alex sat in a secluded part of the mess hall, one reserved for senior officers complete with a more lavish design with carpeting and padded chairs for comfort compared to the metal benches and tired linoleum. Alex sat himself down at the head of the table waiting for the rest of the senior officers to arrive. The door opened before him allowing a large black furred creature to enter the room. It sported an orange suit covered in spots of grease and machine oil over its thick black fur, its ears firmly erect with an occasional twitch to the sound of clattered cutlery and scraping porcelain. It opened its vicious maw to lick its muzzle exposing its sharpened fangs whilst it smiled toward Alex.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” He said with a firm pat on Alex’s back.
“‘Morning, Milo. Care to explain what’s going on with my engine; why the number two engine at half efficiency?” Alex said with a smug grin.
Milo smiled heartedly. His lip curled upward along his canine snout.
“I’ve said it before and I will say it again: The engine components are old, ancient, obsolete. Those injection columns were poorly designed. Now, if we were to get those Ti’Kanthar TK-35 Injectors like I asked then I guarantee that we won’t have so many issues. Same configuration, twice the efficiency and less maintenance.”
Alex smiled back, he began to chuckle lightly.
Two orderlies entered with trays of food that they placed in front of the senior officers. Both human and Lycan consumed their meals. Both men did not speak throughout the course of their meal.
When he was done with his dish, Alex wiped his mouth with a napkin before casually throwing it onto his plate.
“Happy Revelation Day,” Alex began, “Did you honestly think I forgot this year, the most important holiday in the entire Alliance?”
Milo chuckled heartily. “You did last year. Remember ?” he said, wiping his hands clean.
“No no, that’s different. I didn’t forget, I was tired and I had a lot on my mind.”
“Well, you know I heard that Jyväänka city is supposedly having a much grander fireworks display this year than last.”
“No, I don’t think so. The Dragons always say ‘It’ll be bigger and better than last year’ Well, so far only Jvyäänka’s display can only get grander if they involved the entire planet of Draco ⅠⅠ. Even still, their display is still the most spectacular in the entire Draconic territories.”
Milo rested his chin on his knuckles with his elbows on the table “I also got some last minute requests for taking the day off amongst the crew. How do you want me to handle it?”
“Do it. Rotate some crew around to cover those that want the day off. No reason to let anybody think we don’t celebrate it.”
Milo laughed, wiped his snout with the napkin provided, blackening the clean white cloth from all the oil his fur had absorbed. Alex smiled to himself knowing how much this day meant to his friend and Cryptids alike. The many names of Revelation Day included First contact day and One-Oh-One day. All names symbolised the unification of the Terran species. History taught of how for centuries many species resented the idea of openly announcing their presence and condemned any members for taking any clandestine actions to undermine the will of the now disbanded council of non-humans. For many the secrecy was all they wanted.
Alex’s wrist pad lit up along with a series of chimes alerting him to an incoming call. He tapped on the screen to be greeted by the cockneyed accent of his Pilot.
“Bridge to Captain Rowan” the man said in his light Yorkshire accent.
Alex sighed heavily as he tapped his wrist pad to respond
“Go for Rowan here; report, Midshipman Clemens.”
“Sir, we are approaching the Sol system. We just entered the Oort Satellite Grid and we will be inside the orbit of Terra in one hour.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Alex confirmed felt a huge weight lifted off his chest as he let out a long sigh. He was glad that home and relaxation was within grasp. “Thank you Midshipman. Continue our course and velocity.”
Alex slumped into his seat, turning to face Milo both knew the Phoenix had been their home for the last 10 months and had been touring Alliance space and boarding random vessels for contraband. The only excitement they hoped for came in the form of the occasional fight against pirates and smugglers. In the slower months Alex authorised shipwide activities to keep up morale and boost the productivity of his crew. The crew, much like their captain, looked forward to returning home for there was no true substitute. Alex stood up from the table whilst looking at Milo. Neither man said anything, they nodded to each other and Alex left the senior dining room behind.
Alex walked down the grey metal corridor with purpose, he was alone in the corridor. The floor hummed softly from the artificial gravity plating, the pipes above rumbled as fluids and gasses were pumped through. The concerto of ambient noises gave Alex the impression he was not alone. Instead he chose to focus on his footsteps echoing off the walls; the corridor was devoid of life save for the noises of a machine concert.
A wave of shuddering shook the support beams around Alex, lights flickered along to the groaning of metal under incalculable stress. Deep within his mind a small part of his being warned him the ship was going to shake itself apart; he shook his head and pushed that inkling of doubt to the deepest recesses of his mind, Alex knew the Phoenix, she wasn’t going to fly herself apart and he knew his crew were skilled enough to keep her together for another decade to come. The ambient rumbling from the ships engines and faster than light propulsion changed pitch. It grew quieter and a shift in Alex’s balance told him the inertial stabilisers were compensating for a change in velocity. The Phoenix had crossed the Oort Satellite Network hence the ship slowed down in compliance with Alliance Aerospace laws in any star system. Alex readjusted his balance and continued his trek to the command centre.
He approached the C.I.C without stopping for the doors to slide open, Alex’s march toward the bridge wasn’t going to be stopped by waiting for the sensor to detect him; the doors parted ways with haste before he impacted with the doors revealing a dark round room the C.I.C was contained in. Deep blue lighting saturated the rotunda with tones of crimson red light projecting from the screens of consoles onto the faces of radar and LIDAR operators in a daemonic bloody light. Gunnery officers of three different species sat down at their tracking stations with one such member’s body was of a long serpentine configuration, they had rested on the chair and let their elongated body coil around the base of the chair making themselves to look as though they were a spring under compression, whilst another officer belonged to the same species as Milo. Wall to wall the rounded command center had been taken up entirely by screens save for the two ways in and out of the center along the diameter of the room. Alex crossed over the threshold and was greeted by a wave of crisp cold air; even in his insulated suit the cold air sent shivers down his back, the CIC constantly utilising the climate control system to keep the officers proverbial cool while they displayed tactical information and configuration layouts in intense situations. Through the maze of consoles and tactile screen tables led the path to the bridge. The officers paid Alex no attention as he walked past, none stood up to salute him and he expected none to, one stared at their screen with a mapping pen on it, he barely noticed the officer giving him a nod of acknowledgement. Another looked toward his table projecting a crisp golden holographic model of the Phoenix.
Alex stepped up to the secured doors and stood still. Unlike the CIC doors, Alex waited for them to open up. Above the door frame the detector casted a display of sharp blue light beam, light bounced up and down as it scanned him before all light beams centered on his face, blinding him for only a short second before being assaulted by another beam as it focused on his retinas, as soon as it had started the beams faded out of existence and the doors slid open onto the bridge. Alex gazed dreamily toward the swirling vortex of colours enveloping the ship as if it had been consumed by a kaleidoscopic tunnel of light before being brought back to reality by the whistle programmed to sound off whenever the Captain set foot on the Bridge. The attention wrought from the whistle snapped the bridge crew to attention, shooting up from their consoles saluting their captain.
He stood firm with his hands behind his back “At ease, return to your stations.” They all complied.
Before him at the forefront of the Bridge rested an officer with his boots on top of his control console
“Midshipman!” Alex deliberately raised his voice at the word, the young officer jumped in his seat much to Alex’s perverted delight. “ I trust you are enjoying yourself with your feet on top of the helm console instead of under it?”
“Sorry sir,” Clemens spoke. “But there’s hardly a reason not to relax while we are in FTL.”
Alex moved toward the chair resting in the centre of the arrow shaped bridge,the green leather chair creaked under his weight as he settled into a comfortable position. The leather had been worn down by the Phoenix’s last five captains; it had seen better days and each captain before had refused to have the leather fixed or replaced thus continuing the tradition, Alex never had the chair repaired. The chair had stood against the test of time and will no doubtedly be the only original part left when the Phoenix is to be decommissioned. Alex tapped on the wide armrest’s display screen, in response it rose from the armrest and stopped itself on an angle between the chair and the captain’s head. He studied the submitted reports with intent before looking ahead to the swirling vortex outside.
“It is because we are in FTL that I don’t want your feet on the console,” Alex said. “Midshipman, I got you out of prison on the Second Chances Probationary program because you are a great helmsman. You have a rarely seen talent to fly, so don’t make me revoke your probation.”
The young officer didn’t say a word but Alex knew he didn’t need to say anything, he just needed to listen.
Ensign Clemens turned to face a monitor display to his left after it beeped, he swung his head back to face his captain. “Sir; we have five minutes until we enter Real-Space.”
Alex acknowledged. Alex reached for the overhead console above his post and pulled out its microphone. The tension on the thick coiled wire felt as though the console wanted to pull it away from him. He held down the button on the side of the microphone firmly.
“All hands, all hands, this is your Captain speaking: Prepare to exit Jump, attend to your designated seats and apply all restraints. I repeat, we are exiting Jump-space, buckle in for Jump transition. Captain Rowan out.” He slid the device back into its alcove.
The lights dimmed greatly, the orange hue of klaxon alarm lights followed by deep baritone buzzing in dual tones. Alex reached over to grab his seat belt tabs. Both left and right belts went over his respective shoulders and connected to a central buckle positioned over his belly with an audible click, he reached for the third buckle situated between his legs. He reached down and pulled on it, fastening it in as it firmly pressed against his groin much to his discomfort.
Alex looked out the window in the final seconds before arriving. The bow of the ship with its spear-like aperture piercing space to allow the ship to travel faster than light glowed with an ethereal blue light. It grew dimmer and eventually it had lost its light, looking no different than an antenna rod. The colourful vortex bled blackness from its epicenter whilst the view contorted to a warped canvas of stars before finally setting itself with a large blue and green marble dead ahead of the ship. Ribbons of greens and blues shot outward from the ship like a firework from the radiation collected throughout the journey. Alex felt a strong pull toward the front as the ship left Jump-space and his breakfast almost left his stomach.
“Midshipman, retract our FTL antennae and disable AURA shields.”
“Aye Captain.”
Once more, Alex reached above him for the microphone. “All hands, all hands this is your Captain speaking. We have transitioned successfully to Real-Space, return to your posts.”
Clemens tapped on his console followed by muffled whirring and thumps coming from the bulkheads around them; Alex watched the warp spear slowly retreat into the body of the Phoenix as two large panels closed in over the antennae to give the ship it’s streamlined arrow shaped prow. The alarms went silent along with the klaxon lighting before it switched to normal. In front of them, a planet bustling with orbital traffic like the traffic of a busy city without any discernible streets or avenues. Heading from one station to another, from planetside to orbit or Station to beyond the planet's orbit. The glare from the sunlight shone brightly off the hulls of orbiting space stations and craft alike, giving them the appearance of tiny stars surrounding the great Earth.
Loud enough to be heard by all on the bridge a series of beeps sounded off, Alex looked to his left. A creature of avian features sat at the communications console, she looked up with her bright golden eyes towards the window as if to see the reason it was caused from outside the ship. She looked back down towards the screen then towards Alex.
“Sir” The female officer said “the Orbit Master wishes to speak with you.”
Rowan nodded to her, she responded with the same nod and faced her console once more and pressed a button. A disembodied voice boomed throughout the bridge’s speakers with no clear direction from where it came from. The voice of a man with seriousness dead in his tone spoke with authority.
“Valkyrie Class cruiser. Hull number: one-eight one-four two-two-seven-four six-four eight. Registration: United Terran Starship Phoenix. Transfer your flight plan to this channel now, slow your inertial drag to two hundred kilometres per hour.”
“Midshipman Clemens” Rowan said “Transmit our flight plan to Orbit Master”
The young Clemens responded in confirmation before tapping away on his console followed by him gently pulling the control sticks slowly towards him. Jets on the hull fired to slow their speed and Rowan could feel the shift in direction along with the rumbling in his seat. He glanced outward past the bow of his ship, the retro engines retreated back into the hull to give the Phoenix her once slim figure once more. A flash of light caught Rowan’s eye as he looked out to his right and saw an explosive display of light blues and greens coming from a ship where it was not before. It seemed so far away but it was close enough for him to spot the orange glow of that ship’s retro thrusters slowing it down too. A signal chime sounded and Rowan answered the Orbit Master’s call once more.
“Captain Rowan, your ship has been assigned to docking berth five in the Collins orbital shipyard. Plot a course to Luna Orbit and proceed to the Collins shipyard and proceed into docking berth five. Orbit Master out.”
Rowan gave his confirmation of understanding, then ordered Clemens to proceed to their new destination. Rowan felt anxious taking a trip to the orbital shipyard over Earth’s moon didn’t help him any. The moon, from the perspective of the Phoenix, was in its waxing crescent phase. A network of orange lights glimmered in the darkness on the surface of its shadow with fine threading covering the surface with streets and rails. Small lights shone in orbit of the moon. It brought a smile to see the sight of Terran ingenuity bringing life to its hostile, desolate environment.
------
Above the lunar cities, the Orbital elevator towering above the heart of Armstrong city stood as a proud feat of engineering, atop its long thin spire of cables and support rings the shipyard that transported cargo to and from the surface. The superstructure boasted four large arms protruding outward from the central spire with vessels firmly moored to them.
The Phoenix drifted closer to its assigned bay, the wall of the Berth inching its way closer to Portside with intimidating mechanical arms poised above like a praying mantis’ blades, ready to strike. Clemens’ ability to navigate was surgical, methodical and calculated; he had switched off the main engines and over to the smaller rocket thrusters giving small bursts of power to perform the minute task of positioning the Phoenix for the Grappler arms. Alex did not show the anxiety he felt, his body temperature had raised itself as he watched the ship slowly creep to Orbital Shipyard.
One wrong move from Clemens and the Orbital dock would fall out of the sky and onto the many innocent people down below, the maneuver was a difficult one without computer guidance which Clemens had insisted he work without.
“Dry dock engage mooring clamps”
The mechanical arms began to move. The interlocked fingers opened up to expose soft padding on each digit as it was brought closer, the first arm positioned itself in front of the bridge, its palm touched the hull and the fingers instinctively closed in trapping the Phoenix in its grasp. Alex pulled up his screen and switched over to a camera feed outside the hull. The berth had extended its umbilical and connected with the Phoenix, a green light on the screen signified it was pressurised inside and was safe for transit. He looked over to Clemens. “Another successful docking, good job Midshipman.”