Alternative Directions: Options
Chapter 50
Dark Side S 43861 A
Time: 21:45 [L2 time
Damian Edwards
It was a world in itself he reflected, as he strolled the mezzanine, noting the comings and goings of the people who called the Dark Side home. When he was a child he had begun his love affair with the idea of being chosen as Captain for one of the great Family Ships. He had been a wide eyed child on a ship less than half the size of the Dark Side, when her Captain had walked that much smaller mezzanine and winked at him. He would never forget that day, or the salt and pepper haired man who had commanded the world he had been born into. A world of metal that moved relentlessly through space. To this day he had not set foot on a planet.
At that time, when his dream had sparked, the ships had only been half the size of the ships now cruising the colonies flight lanes and, like the Dark Side, venturing out deeper into space. These great ships never docked at a colony, sending instead shuttles to convey cargos and negotiate deals with the colonists and the officials of trade and commerce of the Earth.
He had wondered as he grew from child to teenager, and then to adult, if the colonists or the people of the Earth had any idea of just how large the Family ships were becoming. He had trained and studied and pushed himself to full fill his dream of becoming worthy of commanding a Family Ship. Now, as the Captain of one of the newest and largest of the Sweeper ships, he knew the answer to that long ago thought out question.
No.
No one beyond the Sweepers, and a very select few individuals, knew the bulk of these space faring giants. It was not so difficult a matter to keep their size and numbers secret, considering the resources available to the Sweepers as a group. His people were an inventive lot and had invented the cloaking devices that had shielded their ships from notice for years now.
Only the largest of the ships could carry sufficient power to make the use of the stealth device feasible, so only the Family Ships were equipped with them. The exceptions had been the Peacemillion and the much smaller Deathscythe Gundam. If you considered the proportions of the Gundam, however, comparing it to the size of the Family ships and the relative power needed to generate a cloaking field needed to shield each, then in truth the Gundam became proportional to the family ships.
They were protective of their technology, jealously guarding their advances and sharing its secrets with few. Largely they kept to themselves, associating little with others beyond running their lucrative trade deals with the colonies. Nor did they choose to associate themselves with trouble, the exception being during the One Year War, when their Council of Captains and advisers had decided to interfere in the war. They had first aided in the construction of the Gundam Deathscythe, and in later days Howard had chosen to use Peacemillion.
The War was a tender subject amid
the Sweepers. Many were still of the opinion they should have stayed
out of the entire matter, but done was done and now the Earth Sphere
was at peace. Though the matter had never entered the formal slated
topics due for discussion at the council meetings, it was understood
by every Captain that the war had benefited the Sweepers. The
salvaging operations that the war had provided were rather
remarkable, even now. While he did not wish to associate himself
with war, he could not deny the influx of wealth the salvage
operations had meant for
the Sweepers.
On his cynical days, he wondered if it had been planned that way.
He strolled the mezzanine, nodding briefly to off duty crew who recognized him. The cafés were quiet at this time of the night, the families mainly retired to their quarters.
At this hour mostly off duty crew men and perhaps the odd merchant from their trading staff could be found walking the ships shopping galleries.
"Captain Edwards to the Bridge." The announcement came over the general speaker system.
He sighed, suppressing a smile, knowing the speaker, his First Officer, Arnold Matthews, was probably wishing he could say something to the effect of 'Damian, turn your bloody personal com on, so I can find you when I need you.' It was not the first time he had taken the opportunity to slip away from his duties as Captain and walk his ship, checking personally on the levels of emotion and stability in the families and crew.
The Dark Side had medical and psychological staff to ensure no one went space crazy. It was a rare occurrence on a Family Ship for anyone to become unhinged and potentially a danger to the entire ship, as they had facilities here that would leave some of the colonies to shame. Much thought and planning had gone into the make up and design of the Family Ships. In truth the great ships were almost movable colonies, each capable of a stable, permanent population of several thousand families.
It was no mean feat to keep the kilometre long ships hidden from prying eyes, nor was it exactly easy to maintain stable psychological balances in populations confined to ships. At full population the larger of the ships, like the Dark Side, could shelter a population of some twenty thousand individuals. At this time the Dark Side had a compliment of ten thousand civilians and three thousand seven hundred and two crew members. The ship's population ranged in ages from seven newborns to two centarians.
There had been no incidents of unacceptable behaviour from the civilians or the crew to cross his desk, alerting him to an onset of the 'space crazies'. Problems incurred by individuals who were having psychological trauma from the constraints of confinement inherent in long range space flight were an ongoing danger. The ships were not as large as Colonies or the spectacular Station One; that hidden birth point of civilization on the outskirts of the Earth Sphere. Medics always had to be alert to the signs of distress in the people, and as Captain it was his duty to ensure his people were settled and content.
He made it a habit to change into casual clothing and walk the mezzanine, sampling the general atmosphere for signs of discontent. It was a walk he considered as much a duty as it was a pleasure, and he made the walk at all hours of the day or night. There was always someone on the mezzanine.
However, it was now obvious that his excursion was over for this day. He was, it was true, off duty at this time, but if they felt the need to summon him to the bridge it was unlikely that his respite from duty would last. So, a quick stop at his cabin for a change of clothing was in order and then on to the Bridge.
"Captain Edwards contact the Bridge, please."
Now that was more serious than he had assumed, if they were getting impatient enough not to wait for him to arrive. The summons to the bridge for the Captain of the ship was piped throughout the ship. There was no way he could miss the message. If they were asking him to contact the bridge, then it was a little more urgent. With a sigh he made his way over to an out of the way corner near a café and activated his wrist com.
"Edwards here. What the hell is so urgent I can't have some down time, Matthews?"
A moments silence and then his second's voice. "Don't take time to change, Damian. Word has come in from Raydon. We have a problem."
The instant the man's name was mentioned he felt a cold shiver run through him. "On my way."
//Raydon. Damn. What has he cooked up now?//
The Gentleman Raider was something of an enigmatic character. His men styled him the King of Raiders, giving their loyalty and devotion to him willingly. Edwards was amongst the first to acknowledge that what he was doing was creditable, though he thought that how he had first begun the integration was far from honorable in his personal view. Still, he had had to get the raiders' attention and trust somehow. Raydon had become one of them and worked his way into their leadership, insinuating his aims into their ideals and beliefs, and ultimately giving them something to aim for. Lives that suddenly found purpose again had produced marked changes in the majority of the raiders working the space lanes.
Effective as he had been there were still hold outs, and those who cared only for greed. The majority, however, now worked for a home free from the ESUN that had rejected them and their past sacrifices.
Damian made his way across the mezzanine and into the outer halls, moving through a section of family quarters before passing into the hull sphere of the ship. Here the gravity was zero, unaffected by the artificial systems that permitted their people to exist in space indefinitely. With the complex gravity systems on the ship they were free of the prolonged use of drugs that stayed the atrophy of bone and muscle.
Near half of the bulk of the family ships was devoted to power generation for the life support systems and cloaking device. Near a third of the remaining ship was dedicated to the defense and operations of the ship, including the cargo and shuttle bays. The remaining two thirds being the family area, a city sized maze of hallways and suites, three schools and the central massive mezzanine mall.
He entered a shaft, oriented himself to the direction his eyes denoted as up, and pushed off gently, rising steadily. By using the service shafts he avoided the need to traverse the main thoroughfare of the ship, where he was more likely to be recognized and delayed. It was also faster not to use the elevators, as he could increase or decrease his speed as he wished, while the elevators were set at a specific speed.
He manoeuvred around other crewmen and women who, like him, preferred these zero g shafts for quick transit, nodding to salutes and cheery waves alike, until he could push himself out of the shaft and into the hallway he wanted. It took five steps before he felt the first tug of gravity affecting him, and settled his magnetic soled boots to what the gravity determined to be the floor, even though his eyes told him it was the wall. Space and varying gravity fields on a ship could be confusing and people with middle ear disorders never travelled well in zero g.
Two hallways and a dozen crewmen later he entered the great circular bridge, noting the activity was what he loosely termed normal. No panic. Not even any appreciable tension he could discern, merely orderly activity as stations were monitored for the safe operation of the great ship. His First Officer stirred, standing from the command chair with a nod of recognition. He moved to the Communications Officer, spoke briefly to her and then made his way to join the Captain.
"Damian. Sorry about this."
"It's fine. Well? What is Raydon up to now?"
Arnold Matthews was a compact, dark haired man with intense gray eyes and a moustache that defied gravity, curling up without artificial assistance. In their younger days Damian had tried everything to catch his friend waxing or curling the facial hair to make it sit just so. He'd never succeeded, and Matthews had adamantly insisted that it was natural. Damian still did not believe him.
"I think it best if we discuss this in your Ready Room. Only the com officer knows at this time, and Alicia will hold her silence. I'll explain the matter when we are secure."
His unease grew as he followed Matthews to his Ready Room; a small office adjoining the bridge, sound proofed and capable of being security sealed. He settled into his seat behind the desk and motioned to Matthews to be seated across from him. Whatever was going on had his First Officer on tenterhooks, and he settled on the edge of the offered seat, making no move to settle back and make himself comfortable. It was a fair warning of the gravity of the situation.
"Well, Arnold? What is this all about?"
"We have received a warning from Raydon. I'll let you read the message we received for yourself. I... I think it best if you get your own first impressions without me offering an opinion. Judge for yourself." He handed the Captain an electronic note pad and sat back, watching for the expected reaction.
Dark Side. Don't believe it was us. Has not even happened yet. Satellite Communications System Dakkr III compromised by ESUN. Established existence of delay and block confirmed. Keep Dark Side clear of Mars vicinity. Believe ESUN Wellington involved in cover up. Raydon.
"What the hell?" He glanced at his First Officer and then back at the message written on the note pad.
Dakkar III Communications Satellite system. The emergency services satellite relay system was compromised? Who in their right minds would interfere with that system. The Earth Sphere government itself?
"While we were waiting for you to join us, I had Alicia run a test message through the Dakkar III system. If the system is working normally we should get the message relayed back to us within the hour." He glanced at the ships clock on the wall. "Within the next ten to fifteen minutes, if there is not a lot of traffic on the relay."
Edwards eased back in his chair, glaring at the hand hold, considering the implications of the message. He did not have long to wait for a confirmation at least, but why and, more importantly, what could it mean for his ship and the people under his protection?
Don't believe it was us.
Clearly something was in the works that the Captain of the Raiders feared would be laid at the feet of the notorious Reavers of the Asteroid Belt. That was a stupid, crappy piece of doggerel, he reflected. Who ever in the press had coined that piece of idiocy should be shot.
/Has not even happened yet./
Something was going down then, and not yet done. Something big, with implications that Raydon feared would impact on his, to date, excellent relations with the Sweepers.
Which begged the question how Raydon had come to learn of this 'something' he considered dangerous enough to need to clear his name with the Sweepers before word of it could get out?
Satellite Communications System Dkkcar III compromised by ESUN. Established existence of delay and block confirmed.
ESUN. Why would the combined Earth and Colony Council feel the need to establish a delay on the emergency and security communications array system?
He scowled, disliking the directions his thoughts were taking. Perhaps because it was just that? The relay system would speed emergency broadcasts across space to the colonies and the Earth. The system that would alert Preventer ships, Mining Corporation Security ships and even ESUN patrol ships to any need for their presence. True, most instances involved too much distance to affect any great impact, but more and more ships were now travelling these distant reaches. It was easier now to summon aid and you had a better chance of someone being within a day or two's reach of you.
Keep Dark Side clear of Mars vicinity.
Well, that was self explanatory. The man feared whatever was happening would represent a danger to the security of the Family Ship should they continue on to Mars.
Why? He had not intended to actually visit Mars, just swing by the planet for a casual chat to the project controller, and to discover the latest figures the estimated values of discovered ores that might warrant trade negotiations. What was happening on that planet?
Mars was not, as yet, even an official Colony, just a terra formation project. From the latest reports he knew that within a year they expected the colony to be ready for the first official colonists. That day was still well distant, though he believed a shuttle was due to arrive soon on Mars, carrying mining equipment and the first crews to begin the test mines.
Believe ESUN Wellington involved in cover up.
Cover up. The Wellington. After a moment he reached to key in the main computer, calling up a report on the ESUN Wellington.
//Wellington. ESUN commissioned Interplanetary Class Cruiser. 3051 C. Captain Eric Sampson commanding. ESUN battle cruiser commissioned for construction initially as a part of the Alliance fleet, later taken over by OZ who completed the construction of the vessel and then the ESUN, as a Patrol Cruiser. Mission parameters are to patrol mining communities amid the asteroid belt and ... Hmm. They have been largely used to chase Raiders. If they ever came close enough to tell if a ship was Raider or miner.//
Was that it? Was that what this was all about?
Had the Wellington mistaken a ship for a Raider, pursued and eliminated that ship? Had they learned after the fact that they had mistaken their target? Had more than one vessel been involved, a Raider and a civilian transport of some kind? Was there now a mad scramble in official circles to cover up the miscalculation?
While that was possible, he reflected, it just did not have the right feel to it. Something in his bones was dissatisfied by that explanation. Something more was going down out in the space lanes, presumably very near to the Mars orbit. To warrant interference of the emergency satellite system by the ESUN itself, it would have to be a bigger problem surely than one of mistaken identity. An entire convoy, perhaps, but any idiot would realize something that big was not a Raider. He did not think they had idiots in charge of a ship as large as the Wellington.
No. Something else. Something that Raydon feared would cause danger to a Family Ship should they be within firing distance of the hunter killer that was the Wellington.
Why would the Family Ship be fired on? He did not like the answer that sprang to mind. If the Wellington was willing to fire on any ship that came within a certain area, then what the hell were they covering up? He had the stealth feature on the ship, but that was not infallible and too many lives hung in the balance for him to rely solely on that to escape notice.
He settled back from the computer screen, considering his options. He was fortunate to have an escort of sorts, in that another Sweeper ship was in the area. Less than a day from their current position and due to swing by Mars a little ahead of his own ship.
"The Miss Conception checked in with us a few hours ago. She is less than a day from our current position, and on track for a fly past of Mars. Contact her. I want to know if they have received any warnings or other communications from Raydon. Find out if they have noticed anything odd in their vicinity."
"Sir." Brief acknowledgement and his First Officer quietly left the Ready Room.
//We are fifty three hours from Mars at our current speed. That would place the Miss Conception at around thirty three; thirty four hours from Mars. What the hell is going on there? Raydon would not send the warning without good reason. ESUN cover up? Of what? Something on Mars itself? There's nothing there to cover up.//
t.b.c.
Karina Robertson 2004
