Chapter 7

"We believe that when men reach beyond this planet, they should leave their national differences behind them."

~ John F. Kennedy

WarpStar

The system wasn't awe-inspiring by itself. A Red Dwarf star roughly six lightyears from Sol. The system is home to only one planet and no other celestial bodies. The planet is officially named Bernard's Star B, but some people have been known to have nicknamed it Hoth. The surface temperature of Hoth is around -170 degrees Celsius, making it impossible to live on. The planet has some resources, but the cost consumption required to mine those resources would net a negative yield on return, so the planet and the system remain void of life. Scientists have been baffled on why whoever built the Hyperspace network would place a Buoy in that system. So far, every Buoy that has been discovered was placed in a system that had some value, either rich in resources or had at least one habitable planet. The Hoth system had nothing, just a super-earth planet covered in ice.

The barren nature of the system is what made Hoth the perfect place to initiate the F.T.L. Test. There would be no eyes in the system to observe, and even if there were scopes pointed towards the system from Earth, it would be six years before anyone would notice the ship entering faster than light. Everyone on board the ship was expecting to have a nice nap while doing the final checklists before the big moment. The crew's heart sank when the report finally came in.

It is standard procedure for the C.I.C. of a military ship to do a quick analysis of the passive sensors in a system upon immediate exit of hyperspace. The duty officer must know what's surrounding the ship before being able to make a decision on how to proceed. The only exception to this rule is if a ship is jumping to a capital system; Sol, Orion, Epsilon Eridani, or Alpha Centauri, where the system is so heavily monitored each Buoy requires a traffic control station to regulate it all.

The bridge was filled with excitement until the 15 M.C. ripped it out of everyone's chest. "Con, C.I.C. Seven new Contacts bearing two-two-seven, Negative forty-degree drift, seven light hours out. T.A.S. flags them with 95 percent match; Legion Military assets."

If the command bridge itself could talk, it would say 'Shit,' as the faces of every officer confirmed the shared emotion. The Threat Assessment System, or T.A.S., had flagged the contacts picked up on the passive sensors as a possible match to Legion ships. At seven light hours out, they were looking at seven hours into the past. The exact location of the Legion ships was unknown. No one could even calculate where they would be. Legion ships are capable of destroying the known laws of physics, with acceleration and speed abilities reported to be able to burn on upwards of four hundred g's of force. They have a Micro Jump technology that quickly closes a fifty light-minute gap in a few seconds. Current speculation on the only confirmed alien race to have been encountered is they either have advanced inertia subsystems beyond anything humanity could even fathom, or no living creature resides on those ships.

No one has ever made true first contact with The Legion. The first-ever recorded incident was the first Alpha Centauri colony ship, over a century ago. Seventeen total encounters have been registered with the elusive aliens, of those only four landed in combat, and three resulted in the loss of a Federation ship. Each encounter, they expressed a threat to their existence, stating that any life that wages war would eventually turn to them, so they must eradicate the living first. They never initiated contact, never returned communication attempts, never spoke in any other tone except one of pure hatred towards the living. Curiously enough, some ships have reported the Legion would not pursue if they posed no actual threat and started to burn away from them. This theoretical strategy has not been confirmed by The Navy. Standing orders for all ships are to jump out of the system immediately if encountering Legion forces.

John immediately went for the claxon levers on the command island and grabbed the mic with his other hand. Pulling the red lever once, every claxon speaker on the ship made a loud audible drawn-out noise. The Captain switched the M.C. to the 1 channel and began to speak into the mic as he released the lever. "All hands, battle stations condition blue. Rig for silent running."

Silent running is a phrase as old as old Earth Navy Submarines. Taken straight from the lingo from the silent service, its meaning is slightly different in space. Along with the condition blue alert status, silent running does not actually mean silent in terms of audible noise. The alert condition tells the entire crew to lock down all their stations and limit the emissions produced from the ship. Unshielded E.M. emissions from unnecessary equipment, sensor arrays, communications antennas, even simple radiation from food processors and heaters would need to be shut off. Environmental systems would be limited, air recycler fans put on its lowest setting to reduce an electrical field, heating systems set to only 12 degrees Celsius. Uncomfortable for the crew, but less likely for a chance of thermal radiation leaking into the void to be detected by a thermal scan. Primary fusion reactors are shut completely down, main drive units no longer produce thrust. They become invisible to most spectrums of the E.M. field, but they cripple themselves by becoming unable to run and run fast.

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Most people who have served onboard a military ship would say the worst part of going under silent running was not cold temperatures or being forced to eat cold hard rations instead of real food. It was the lack of gravity. Since the invention of Inertia dampeners, gravity plating, and anti-gravity generators, manipulating Newton's laws of motions has been considered a human necessity in space travel. A necessity only enjoyed by those in military vessels. These systems all consume an astronomical amount of power to perform their duties and are exclusively equipped on ships that have more than one military-grade MK-VI fusion reactor. Navy Corvettes and Frigates, and even some Destroyers, were not even lucky enough to enjoy these systems. These subsystems have drilled a sense of entitlement into those who serve, taking advantage of the half a g generated by standard conditions. The ships were built with this in mind, decks running from bow to stern instead of port to starboard. The gravity systems pulling the crew downward, towards the ventral of the ship, while the engines produce thrust towards the bow. When the gravity systems are disabled, and the vessel is under any sort of thrust, gravity created from the thrust produces an uncomfortable sensation, pulling the crew back instead of down. When the main drive engines are disabled, the chemical thrusters are still able to provide a steady 2g's of acceleration for a few hours, with bursts of up to three g's for short durations. Crew tends to strap themselves into their acceleration couches when under condition blue, and off duty and non-essential personnel stay confined to their quarters, safely strapped into their beds.

“Alright, we have seven hours before they notice us, and fourteen hours before we notice a reaction from them. I want options, people!" John declared to the bridge aiming at all of his department heads."

"Con, C.I.C. We just picked up an unusual burst of radiation on the Gamma, Theta, and X-Ray spectrums."

“C.I.C. Con, What’s the source?" John asked into the mic, sending a confusion look towards his executive officer.

"Con, C.I.C. Unknown object bearing zero-seven-three, twenty-five degree positive. Fifteen light minutes out." The young C.I.C. Officer maintained military discipline where her Captain forgot in his moment of confusion.

"Early warning detection system?" Charles asked, duplicating John's look of confusion while adding a flavor of concern.

"How? The information won't get there any faster than the light will."

Both of them stared at their tactical screens, contemplating on how to proceed. Whatever this object is, it seemed to have detected them. But what was discovered? The ship itself, or just the burst of Gamma rays, X-Rays, and other radiation created from a hyperspace jump? The ship was visible in multiple spectrums of radiation prior to the discovery of the Legion ships. If they pursued the object now and destroyed it, their location and identity would surely be detected. The light and radiation emitted from the pursuit and destruction of it would reach the Legion ships in seven hours, allowing them to catch up to the WarpStar before the thirty-four-hour countdown was ended. However, if they let the object alone, it is quite possible it would transmit the location to The Legion ships. But that was the lesser threat, as the information would still take a considerable amount of time to travel the distance. Its usefulness as a probe, or early warning detection system was nonexistent, any information it sends would be the same as what they would get from the light and radiation generated from the ship itself.

Two hours and no solutions were presented yet. The ship continued to drift along the vector of the escape point from the jump at point two of light speed, traveling under inertia, without external force. Rather than spend time sitting in his cabin or the wardroom, John decided to spend his time by checking up on the crew. Making his rounds in the ship's galley, he enjoyed a nice hot cup of coffee while talking to the crew. Coffee and tea were the only hot items they could consume while under silent running, as the energy needed to warm the liquid did not leak out of the ship. He was surprised at how content the crew was. Even at a time of stress the crew seemed happy. Serving onboard a prototype ship, with a prototype energy core that will power a prototype drive system seemed to be all the crew needed. The chance to make actual history. Legion ships be damned, they all couldn't wait for the opportunity to be the first humans to actually travel faster than light under a drive system that they had invented.

A chief petty officer was enjoying a cup of coffee with John, explaining why his job seems so much easier onboard this new ship. He called it "The best fluff job ever! "These new ship systems seem to automate themselves. All I have to do is teach the younglings on what is going on!" John couldn't help but laugh, as an unofficial saying in the Navy always was 'A happy chief is a happy crew!' John didn't know how much of that was true, as his crew was in a positive mood. Either the chiefs were to blame, or it was the nature of the mission. Or a mix of both. John never had a chance to finish the conversation with the chief, when Ensign Carr crashed into him from behind, misjudging her pull off the wall railings and floating uncontrollably into her captain.

"Shit!" she yelped as the chief and John tried to grab her. The chief was successful; however, he had forgotten to anchor himself on the table, or the foot mounts just below. Charlene's momentum ripped the chief from his chair and threw him towards the ceiling, where he gently hit and was able to stop his tumbling. His coffee was not so lucky. Globs of the steaming brown liquid floated everywhere in all directions until finally being caught by the air recyclers on minimal power, slowly being sucked into the vents.

"I got you!" John had managed to brace himself as he grabbed a fistful of her uniform and pulled her down, where she was able to grab the table and place herself in the seat where the chief was sitting just a few seconds ago.

"Sir," she panted, just slightly out of breath. "May I make a suggestion? I think we really should do some extra zero-g training!"

"That is something I am going to do with or without command approval!" The chief laughed as he pushed his way down towards the hatch. "I am ashamed, sir. I was born in zero-g. I lived on Titan, and Hawking's station most of my life. Having gravity plating spoiled me. I should have been anchored! Anyways, I have some tadpoles to teach!" the chief gave a salute to his two superior officers and floated out of the galley, opening up another bar of rations.

"Whatcha got, Char?"

"Sir," Charlene responded professionally, signaling she was here as the ship's helmswoman, rather than John's long-time friend. "I think I have an idea."