Chapter 8

"To gaze into the depths of the sea is, in the imagination, like beholding the vast unknown, and from its most terrible point of view. The Submarine gulf is analogous to the realm of night and dreams. There also is sleep, unconsciousness, or at least apparent unconsciousness, of creation. There in the awful silence and darkness, the rude first forms of life, phantomlike, demoniacal, pursue their horrible instincts."

~ Victor Hugo

Charlene

'Okay, Char, grab the brace bar next time. Don't be a fool. You got this!' The young helmswoman thought to herself as she exited the crew's galley, pushing embarrassment away from the utter failure of her entrance. She knew better, she had training in zero-g. But like most of the crew, gravity subsystems had spoiled her. Even in a flight pod in a Corvette, she was strapped in and had thrust gravity to aid her. Beyond the training in the academy, she had minimal actual zero-g experience. Her military training should have kicked in, she was incredibly proud of her service, and always let it show. To have performed well below performance acceptance, in front of her commanding officer, or in front of the one man she holds closest to her heart, was crushing to her.

She brushed her emotions away, the best thing she could do at a time like this. She had a plan, an idea to get them out of the jam they were in. The captain gave her the green light to execute it, but before they could, she had a hard command decision to make. This was no time to have emotions of any sort running through her. Her training kicked in correctly this time, floating towards the hatch and successfully grabbing the rails to exit, then heading down the corridor towards the lift. She successfully reached the hatch without issue, floating past a few enlisted crew members who did their very best to salute her while floating down the corridor, unable to stop to stand at attention in zero-g. She ignored them and called for the lift.

Making sure her feet were secured in the boot holds on the floor of the lift, she pressed the button for the flight deck. The lift was not appropriately designed to adjust to low-g situations and sped her to her destination at incredible speeds. She held tight as on upwards of seven-g's at times nearly crushed her legs and arms. Traditionally, the crew used the network of shafts and maintenance access tubes to get between decks in low-g or zero-g situations, but she needed the speed, and she needed the training.

"CAG on the deck!" a junior flight officer shouted as Charlene exited the lift. He, along with the rest of the flight deck crew, saluted sharply as they were strapped into their crash couches, ready for action.

The WarpStar was classified as an Exploration Destroyer, a small ship compared to the rest of the fleet. Too small to carry a complement of assault Corvettes, and fighter drones, or even a full wing of fighters, but not small enough not to have any at all. The ship carried a grand total of five actual one-manned fighters, mostly designed for use in small combat and planetary assaults. The pilots were not even full-fledged pilots, either, most of them were mechanics or technicians of other nature. Destroyers rarely deployed their fighters, so the pilots were assigned to other duties to maintain the ship while they were not flying. This tended to attract new pilots who itched to fill their other non-flight requirements for rank, and more experienced pilots tended to stay away.

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"At ease, gentlemen!" Char floated to the set of couches on the opposite side of the pilots. "Listen, I'm not here to hand out orders. I'm here looking for a volunteer." All of the pilots raised their hands without hesitation. "No, not before you know the situation." She began to explain.

"'Ma’am, that is a long time under no power," Another junior flight officer commented when he heard the plan.

"It is, that is why I need a volunteer. This is going to be one of the most dangerous missions you will ever face. You will have no sensors beyond passive, you will have minimum life support. No solid food after your rations run out. Your heat will be at a constant twelve degrees. You will have no thrust to escape. If you are spotted, they will likely shoot you down before you have a chance to run. But, we need one of you to survive."

"So, you are asking us to be a living probe? Why can't you just send the Orbital Probe up to scout?" a third J.F.O. spoke up.

"For the exact same reason, we need something up here. We're going to hide the ship in the only place we can, no signal is going to be able to escape. Not even passive sensors will work. The WarpStar will be blind. And if we can't receive a signal, then the O.P. won't work. Once it's all clear, you will power up and come down to us. It's the only way."

"How long at most, are we going to wait?"

"Seventy-two hours at most. We are going a bit past our Hyperdrive cooldown to give them a chance to vacate. It is likely they already know we are here. It's been a little over seven hours since we got here. Light from our arrival has already reached them. They should be starting to make their way over soon. We think that if we disappear, they will ignore us and leave."

"I'll do it," the only J.F.O. yet to speak finally spoke up.

"Are you sure? This may very well be a one-way mission."

"'Ma’am, I was a pilot in the U.S.M.C. I've been in worse."

Charlene held a smile, knowing what was going on in his head.

"Thank you, sergeant. We need to maneuver the ship first, at least a few hours. You have some time to get reeeeeeaad…." She drew out her last word as suddenly gravity came to full force entirely unexpectedly. This was not the gravity plating coming alive, this was thrust gravity. Sailors could always tell the difference between thrust and gravity plating. One pulled you down, the other pushed you up. This was the ladder. The floor came up from under her faster than she could think, at least two g's of force was pushing her, forcing her couch into her as she attempted to grab ahold of something before the ship had changed its maneuver. She was unsuccessful. The sudden burst of thrust had ceased just as quickly as it started, and flung her up into the tall chamber of the flight deck. As she was floating to the top, the aft section of the chamber began to come at her at high speeds, slamming into her and creating a cut on her forehead. She managed to climb down back to the deck as she fought the three g's of thrust that the ship was producing. "What the fuck is he doing!" she shouted as she slapped a pair of mag clamps on her boots, securing her hold to the floor.

The emergency claxons came to life with three long rings, and John's voice came over the 1 M.C. "General Quarters. All hands, battle stations." This was full-blown combat mode. Condition red was only called when they were expecting a fight within the near future. All thoughts of stealth were called off. The fusion reactors would be warming up to power the shields, weapons, and main drive core. Gravity plating and Inertia Dampeners would start to come to life as the fusion generators pumped life into the ship. Sensor systems would begin to broadcast an active signal, locating anything and everything around them, while giving away their position. She had to get to her post on the bridge.

"'Ma’am—this my queue?" asked the J.F.O. who had volunteered.

"I don't know. But get ready just in case," Char shouted over the chaos around her.