The U.S.S. Frontiere sped through the featureless black expanse of compressed space at 216 times the speed of light, but there was no indication of speed at all, no external markers to gauge their velocity. They might as well have been traveling at 216 feet per minute, or in a dead stop; it would have appeared exactly the same. Onboard, conversations were muted and perfunctory; there was a palpable tension in the air that is usually evident only on the most dangerous and secretive missions. And this operation would certainly qualify on both those criteria.
“How are the last minute trajectory calculations coming along, Talox,” Brisbane asked his colleague. The seven-foot-tall Cyclopean from the Archangel barely looked up from his computer console but still answered with his usual efficiency and cheerfulness.
“Very well, Lieutenant,” he said. “We are downloading the very latest neutron star gravometric parameters from the Archangel’s science computers, and they are lining up fairly well with the readings we used for the initial assessments. This information is the best we can do, and we should be alert to last-minute, unexpected fluctuations. But it doesn’t look like major changes will need to be made nor will any surprises be awaiting us.”
“Subcommander, your optimism never fails you, does it,” Brisbane said as he adjusted some controls on the navigation sequencers. “I wish I could borrow some of it from you for this mission.”
“You are always filled with optimism, Lieutenant,” he said with his lilting, cadenced voice. “Sometimes you just hide it a little too well.”
No one was showing much optimism onboard the Archangel several days ago when a top-secret planning meeting was held with Brisbane, Captain Twillig, Talox, Science Officer Alanna Kosari and Chief Engineer Tony Moreno to discuss possible schemes to explore the surface of Dreen 7. Grim assessments were made of the situation, as the Kellurians clamped the tightest possible quarantine around Dreen 7 and the surrounding space, out to nearly a half-light-year. The only thing they couldn’t quarantine was nearby neutron star NXV-399, the leftover remnant of a long ago supernova SNR 2014+43895-B. The surrounding nebulosity and interference from the neutron star made any sensor monitoring problematic. Talox calmly expounded his idea of plotting a close fly-by of a neutron star to both shield the compspace exit of an Alliance ship and use the intense gravitational field to impart a high velocity to the ship so it could glide through space unnoticed by the Kellurians. Talox did not take offense when his idea was discounted as far too dangerous and untried, but he gently kept returning to his plan, supplementing it with facts, projections and an unstoppable enthusiasm. As other ideas dropped away and no others showed any reasonable promise or chance of success, Talox’s idea started to look better and better. After five long hours of deliberation, Talox managed to steer the debate until it became clear that his idea of a close encounter with the harsh, raging environment surrounded a neutron star just might offer the best chance of getting to Dreen 7.
“Hearing anything yet, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” Brisbane asked.
“Nothing but static and background noise, Lieutenant,” came the answer. Lieutenant Colin Bradshaw was serving as communications officer on this flight, monitoring all known communications channels.
“I have the latest computer timeline available from the new data, Lieutenant,” Talox announced as his long, multijointed fingers danced across the computer controls. Brisbane came over to Talox’s console and looked over his shoulder. Talox pointed at several items on the monitor.
“We will be dropping out of compressed space in 47 minutes, 19.7 seconds,” he said. “That will put us within 100 thousand dectons of NXV-399.” Lieutenant Bradshaw’s eyes got as big as saucers when he heard that. Even Brisbane looked at Talox incredulously.
“Are you sure of that, Talox,” Brisbane said slightly nervously. “No vessel has ever been that close to a neutron star before.”
“Quite right, Lieutenant,” Talox said calmly as he fine-tuned some adjustments on the monitor image. “It will take us into the upper reaches of the plasma atmosphere. We will need to get within close proximity if we are to conceal our compressed space exit vector and gain enough speed as we whip around the neutron star and head toward Dreen 7.”
“Sounds like we’ll be close enough to smell it,” Lieutenant Bradshaw said uneasily. That comment elicited one of Talox’s unique gurgling, musical laughs. “I will be very interested in finding out what a neutron star smells like, Lieutenant,” Talox said in genuine amusement. NXV-399 is one of the smaller neutron stars in this area of the quadrant, surrounded by a highly charged, ionized atmosphere of million-degree hydrogen gas plasma and shrouded with a thick, dusty nebula covering raging, violent magnetic fields. The plan was for the Frontiere to drop out of compspace near the neutron star and actually rush towards it, using the intense gravity to provide a slingshot effect, imparting a very high velocity that the Frontiere would need to reach Dreen 7 without using its trans-ionic engines, which would have been detected instantly by the thick swarm of Kellurian military craft keeping a close eye on the planet and its environs.
“I am quite excited about getting very close to a neutron star,” Talox gushed. “I will have a small window of time where I can record sensor readings before the computers will need to be shut down, and I intend to gather as much data as I can. I am very anxious to find out something that we don’t know about neutron stars!”
Brisbane couldn’t conceal a little grimace on his face. “I wish you hadn’t said that, Talox,” he grumbled. “I really don’t want to come across anything we don’t know that we should have.”
“I’m sure your sense of adventure and thirst for excitement will overtake your apprehension, Lieutenant,” Talox said breezily. “It always has in the past.”
“I’ve gotten my butt kicked in the past, too,” Brisbane muttered to himself as he punched some information into his personal computer. “It doesn’t mean I want it to happen again.”
“I’m starting to pick up some chatter,” Lieutenant Bradshaw announced as he listened intently to his communication monitors. “Definitely Kellurian, just the usual stuff so far – ship to ship, intra-vessel, normal communication with the Central Command – but …” A puzzled look crossed Colin’s face as he absorbed more of the incoming signals.
“But …?” Brisbane echoed. “Talk to us, Colin.”
“There’s none of the usual unofficial talking and chatter between different areas of the same ship,” he said, slightly confused. “Everyone seems rather tight-lipped; none of the usual blustering and obnoxious blathering for which the Kellurians are famous. It’s almost like they are nervous or apprehensive about something.”
“I noticed that a bit on the Archangel right before we left,” Brisbane said, looking around the command center of the spacecraft. “Almost a stifling tension, like everyone knew something bad was happening or about to happen.”
He turned to look at Talox. “Keep refining your calculations, Subcommander, and let us know when we are a minute away from exiting.”
The crew of the Frontiere continued their tasks as the time sped swiftly by. It seemed to be all too soon when Talox announced, “Sixty seconds to NXV-399 encounter… mark.” Brisbane returned to the navigator station and said, “Everyone strap themselves in, it’s going to be a rough ride. Talox, be prepared to switch navigation control over to me and give us the final time increments.”
“Navigation transfer online,” Talox answered efficiently, “and the new time parameters have been sent to everyone’s consoles. There will be an interval of 7.3 seconds after compspace exit until the navigation computers are disengaged.” He looked over to the tactical station next to him. “The dimensional shielding will be raised immediately upon exit for maximum radiation protection,” he said dispassionately.
“As soon as we clear the hydrogen corona of the neutron star there’s a window of 3.4 seconds before we clear the nebulosity, we will need to switch from shielding to gravity screens,” Brisbane said. “The Kellurians would be able to detect us without the screens. Colin, it’s up to you to monitor the shielding and Talox, you need to do the switch to the gravity screens.”
“Understood, Lieutenant,” the communications officer said. “A seamless switchover has been programmed,” Talox assured him. “No one will even notice when our gravity screens are activated.”
Brisbane looked up with a little smile on his face, beneath his furrowed brow. “You make it sound so easy, Talox,” he said. “I wish I could do that. When we emerge from the nebula there will surely be some Kellurian vessels nearby. Colin, be sure to closely monitor the JK through L9 bands, we need to know if anyone notices we are around.”
“I’m on it,” he replied. “You’ll know immediately if anyone so much as sneezes on one of those tubs.”
“Kellurians rarely sneeze,” Talox interjected helpfully. “They are much more likely to pass intestinal gas.”
“Oh, lovely,” Lieutenant Bradshaw said, slightly dismayed. “I don’t get paid nearly enough for this.”
“All right, everyone, let’s concentrate and look sharp,” he said nervously. “There are no second chances on this little jaunt. A ten-second countdown if you please, Mr. Talox.”
The view screen still showed nothing but blackness in front of them, the Frontiere looked like it was hanging motionless instead of rushing headlong into one of the most violent and unpredictable environments in the quadrant. Talox calmly began his countdown and when he reached zero, the view screen exploded in orange light and an extremely loud, jostling shock rocked the spacecraft from end to end and a hissing, roaring sound permeated every cubic inch.
“Shielding at maximum,” Colin called out above all the noise. The orange glare on the view screen began to fragment as the ionization bubble from the re-entry into normal space was quickly stripped away by the nebula surrounding NXV-399. Brisbane continued to stare at the view screen and was mesmerized as the sheets of hydrogen plasma parted and he caught a glimpse of one of the most exotic and alien sights the universe had to offer – the surface of a neutron star. A luminous, dark gray, impossibly smooth, curved horizon stretched out in front of them on the bottom of the view screen, laced with a web-like network of white and electric blue streaks. Approximately the size of a medium-sized moon, it had all the mass of a Class J star compressed into a volume a microscopic fraction of its original size. The matter of a neutron star is packed to a density inconceivable under normal circumstances. A teaspoonful of matter from NXV-399 would weigh almost a hundred thousand tons. As the parent star collapsed in on itself, it developed an extremely rapid rotation – the neutron star rotated every 3.8 seconds! A harsh, acid-yellow haze of hydrogen plasma hugged the surface, following its curvature closely. Friction between the surface and the plasma kept it heated to millions of degrees Kelvin, and clouds of this superheated plasma began to buffet the spacecraft as the Frontiere plowed through its upper reaches. Brisbane could not see any features on the surface at all, noting that the intense gravity of the star would prevent any surface irregularities from becoming any higher than six inches.
Brisbane barely had time to take in the incredibly unusual, surreal landscape when the console in front of him lit up. “Navigation control is yours, Lieutenant,” Talox announced loudly, “I am preparing to send the computers into hibernation.”
“Dimensional shielding in place but are showing signs of stress,” Colin said urgently. “It is being overloaded by the hydrogen plasma.” He swiftly operated some controls on the shield console. “I’m reinforcing with reserve power.”
“Hold the shields together for just another couple of seconds,” Brisbane said as he fought to keep the Frontiere on course. They were starting to feel a very strong push to the left as the Frontiere was pulled by the star’s extremely powerful gravity while it plunged ever closer to the dangerous, nightmarish surface below them. His navigation console showed the velocity of the Frontiere increasing at a stupendous rate. The artificial gravity generators were having tremendous difficulty counteracting the enormous centrifugal force as the Frontiere rapidly accelerated to near lightspeed.
“Nearing closest approach!” Talox shouted out almost gleefully as his computers and sensors operated a full capacity, gathering critical data of the neutron star. “Approaching ninety percent lightspeed,” Brisbane announced in amazement. He knew the Frontiere and all its occupants would have been vaporized instantly upon exiting compressed space if it wasn’t for the dimensional shielding which was beginning to stress to the breaking point in the caustic, unyielding atmosphere of the neutron star.
Suddenly there was an unusual, jostling vibration throughout the ship and an alarm went off on one of the computer consoles.. “Proximity alert,” Brisbane announced, “What do we have, Talox?” he asked.
Studying his computer screens for a moment, Talox replied, “There is a density anomaly on the surface of the star. It is sending out powerful gravometric waves, and the rapid rotation is causing the waves to buckle and slip on each other. This is making us slow down slightly and drop closer to the surface of the star.” Talox thought for a second as he took in the rapidly-changing data. “We need to increase our forward velocity by 0.846 percent. Lieutenant, I am sending over new velocity parameters to your console now.”
Brisbane saw the new information come across his screens and made adjustments to the navigation console. Within seconds the proximity alarm ceased. “We have returned to optimum safety conditions now,” Talox stated, causing an almost audible sigh of relief in the command center.
The close pass to the star happened with breathtaking speed, and Brisbane barely heard when Lieutenant Bradshaw verified that the gravity screens had been engaged a split second before the Frontiere exited the dust and gas nebula which surrounded NXV-399. They were completely invisible to any sensors of the Kellurian military warships which were between them and their target, Dreen 7. The command area of the Frontiere was plunged into subdued lighting as the computers, compspace navigation and most of the other automated systems except life support were deactivated and went dark, so the Frontiere could run silently and undetected through space. After the roaring and noise of their neutron star encounter, a deafening silence enveloped the entire ship.
“Kellurian fighter up ahead, 30,000 dectons starboard,” Colin announced as he watched the only functional, low-powered video camera. They weren’t expecting a warship so close to them immediately upon exit from compspace and that worried Brisbane. “Looks like we’re going to have our first test of your ‘silent running’ idea, Talox,” he said uneasily.
“It always works in the movies,” Talox said in his bubbly voice. “It will work here!” Brisbane and Colin looked at each other in shocked amazement.
Several agonizing seconds crawled by as the Frontiere zoomed into close proximity with the warship. The command center was swallowed in claustrophobic anxiety. Colin listened intently to his communication monitors as they tapped into the intraship communication network of the Kellurian cruiser. “The captain and the tactical officer are having some sort of argument,” he said in disbelief. Brisbane and Talox looked over to him, almost unable to say anything.
“What are they saying, Colin?” Brisbane asked desperately. “Can you translate what they are arguing about?” he asked.
“I – I’m not sure,” Colin said, sweat starting to break on his brow. “There’s a lot of noise and hollering, many conversations at once,” he said. “The tactical officer is reporting they tracked an electrical disturbance coming out of the nebula and moving in a straight line, but the captain is telling him to ignore it!”
“An electrical disturbance?” Brisbane said in alarm. “What are they talking about?”
“They may be talking about us, sir,” Talox answered as the corners of his mouth drooped. “It may be that the Frontiere’s hull is retaining some ionization from the neutron star’s atmosphere and it is slowly discharging into space. That most definitely would be something they could pick up on sensors.”
“There’s a lot of loud arguing and discussion,” Colin said urgently. “The captain is now – Oh my God!” he gasped incredulously.
“What the devil is going on, Colin?” Brisbane demanded. “What is happening?”
“There appears to have been weapons fire of some sort onboard the Kellurian warship,” Colin said, straining to hear any more information. “I don’t hear the tactical officer anymore!”
Brisbane looked at Talox who stared blankly in amazement. “The captain is saying something to another crewman. He is apparently appointing a new tactical officer!” Colin looked up from his monitors. “Looks like Kellurian discipline is very much alive and well this far out into space.”
“Captain Twillig said that Ambassador Craethon told him there would be several Kellurian commanders that would be working for him on this mission,” Brisbane said as he slumped back in his chair. “Looks like we found one of them, and a Kellurian officer paid the price for this subterfuge. What is our current position and speed?”
Consulting his monitor again, Colin reported, “We have passed the Kellurian warship and are heading away from it. The speed adjustment we were forced to make earlier gave us a bit more forward velocity than planned. We will reach Dreen 7 approximately 2.17 minutes sooner than anticipated. Also, we are a several thousandths of a percent off our optimal heading, but it’s useless to try to correct a variation that small right now. We will have plenty of chances to tweak our heading later on.” Colin looked up from his screens. “Should we adjust our speed to get back on our plan?”
Brisbane stopped and thought for a few seconds. “No,” he said, “leave our speed as it is. It may come in handy to be a little bit ahead of the game. Hopefully we’ll continue to run silent and run dark, until we get to the planet.” Brisbane said with a sigh of relief. “And maybe the Kellurians will continue to look the other way. Tell me again how we’re going to slow ourselves down without engaging any of the engines?”
“There are several pockets of gas between us and Dreen 7,” Talox said. “The pockets are very tenuous but very large, and will offer enough drag on the ship to slow us down to under ten percent lightspeed.”
“Won’t there be any ionization whenever we plow through the gas at over 50% lightspeed?” Colin asked.
“The gas is extremely thin and cold, a few degrees above absolute zero,” Talox answered with confidence. “Ionization will be minimal. We can also use the gas maneuvering thrusters to usher us through the densest part of the gas pockets. After that, we will need to use traditional atmospheric braking when we get close to Dreen 7. I’ve plotted our orbits around Dreen 7 and calculate we will need to orbit the planet 34 times before we lose sufficient speed to enable safe entry into the atmosphere.” Talox pointed to a tactical plot of their orbit around Dreen 7, which showed a dense series of highly elliptical, concentric orbits. With each pass around the planet, the Frontiere dipped into the atmosphere of the planet at closest approach, losing a little velocity each time and dropping a little closer to the planet with each cycle.”
“All the while dodging a hornets’ nest of Kellurian military craft,” Brisbane noticed with dismay. “No wonder my hair is turning gray.”
“I think your gray hair is extremely attractive and distinguished-looking,” Talox gurgled in delight and complete sincerity. “I don’t even have any hair.”
Brisbane couldn’t help but laugh at that comment. “Leave it to the Cyclopeans to put everything in perspective. Let’s keep our fingers crossed and hope we can slip by all those psychotic Kellurians out there. Estimated arrival at Dreen 7, Talox?”
“Arrival at Dreen 7 in five hours, seventeen minutes, thirty-four seconds,” Talox replied.
For the next several hours the silent journey to Dreen 7 proceeded without incident. The only sound heard on board where the hushed conversations of the crew and the sharp hissing noises as Brisbane carefully used the gas maneuvering thrusters of the Frontiere to steer it toward the invisible expanses of gas along the way, and passing through them was caused a noticeable drop in velocity.
Talox took over the visual monitoring of the nose camera while his two crewmates busied themselves with other tasks in the uncommonly quiet ship. It came as that much more of a surprise when Talox opened his single eye wide and announced, “Lieutenant, remember what you said about our luck holding out until we get to Dreen 7? I think it just ran out on us.”
Brisbane and Colin rushed to the navigation console. “I don’t see anything,” Colin said as he looked at the sparse field of stars on the screen in front of them.
“Right there, dead center,” Talox said. Cyclopean eyesight was several orders of magnitude sharper than human vision, and he was obviously seeing something the others couldn’t. “Let me magnify as much as possible.” Talox manipulated some controls and the star field changed. There was now a cluster of very tiny stars right in the middle.
“It’s the main Kellurian fleet,” Talox said with genuine apprehension and surprise. “Right in the middle of our path.”
“What the hell?” Brisbane said incredulously. “What are they doing there? They are several million dectons away from their regular position.” Brisbane cursed under his breath. “You can’t count on those damned Kellurians to do anything right.”
“If they are within visual range, that means we are well within their sensor bubble,” Colin said. “If we try any kind of maneuver they may pick us up.”
“Does that include the gas thrusters?” Brisbane asked.
“Yes, it does,” Colin replied. The crew members look anxiously at each other. “What are we to do, Brisbane?” Colin asked. Brisbane took a breath and stared at the video console. “Steady as she goes,” he said slowly. “Let’s wait to see exactly how close we will get to them.”
Tense seconds seemed to pass very slowly as the cluster of stars expanded in front of them.
“I’m counting 212 individual vessels,” Talox said ominously. “They range from small fighter-craft vessels to several fully-armed battle cruisers,” he said, “along with science and tactical vessels arranged in a large sphere, centered on our originally projected path.”
“Can you calculate our present pathway through the Kellurian fleet?” Brisbane asked. “I will know in a few seconds,” Talox responded. The cluster of stars slowly turned into a constellation of Kellurian war vessels, and several of them grew dramatically in size.
“We will be passing through right there,” Talox said as he indicated on the screen. “We will miss the main concentration of vessels in the center and will traverse the upper right fringe area, in that opening between the battle cruiser and the science vessel,” he said. “Adequate room to get through, if they don’t make any sudden moves or course changes.”
“That’s the issue, isn’t it,” Brisbane said, the worry evident in his voice. “Will they just sit quietly for the couple of seconds it takes us to zip on by right under their noses?”
“Talox,” Colin asked, “What could we do if we had to get out of their vicinity in a real hurry?”
“Unfortunately, not much,” was his reply. “The trans-ionic engines are completely degenerated. It would take nearly 10 seconds to fire them up for an emergency burst and the Kellurians would detect that in a microsecond.”
“What about …” Colin began asking.
“Don’t even think about the compspace engines,” Brisbane said warily. “They are ice cold and dead. They would take three minutes to spin up to minimum levels.” He looked up at his comrades. “We have no choice,” he said slowly. “We’re going to fly right into their midst, and out the other side.”
It was a surreal feeling to watch the images of the enemy fleet getting closer, filling the video screen and then to see two large vessels draw closer, with the space between them seeming to open up wide, nearly taunting them to try to get through. “Steady,” Brisbane said quietly as he saw Talox’s fingers moved toward the maneuvering thrusters. “Thrusters as a last resort,” he said.
Again the seconds seem to crawl by interminably. “Anything unusual on wireless?” Brisbane asked Colin, as he monitored the communication channels.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Colin replied quietly, but beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow. “Wait!” he shouted with alarm. “A fleet-wide command has been issued!”
Just when it seemed they were about to make it through, hundreds of small silvery objects started pouring out of nearly every Kellurian vessel, forming a large swarm which permeated nearly every bit of free space between the ships.
“What the hell are they doing?” Brisbane shouted.
“The Kellurians are launching an enormous number of some sort of instrument probes,” Colin said in shocked surprise. “There must be hundreds of them, coming from everywhere!”
As many dozens of tiny silver stars spread out in all directions from the Kellurian ships, the crew watched in abject horror as the science vessel on their starboard side released its own array of probes, fanning out directly in front of them. “Talox, does it look like we’re going to hit any of them?” Brisbane asked in desperation. He knew Talox’s brain would be able to plot the most likely pathways of the probes instantly.
“We will avoid most of them,” Talox answered, a rare tension evident in his voice. “The only one that is questionable is the last one on the bottom, right there” he said, pointing to the screen. “There is a forty percent chance of a collision with that one.”
“Thrusters on standby ready for evasive,” Brisbane ordered reluctantly. “Fire on my signal only.”
It was only a few seconds as the images of the probes got large enough to see detail on them. Talox took several pictures of them with another camera. The crew members we unable to breathe as the Frontiere glided through the collection of space probes.
Suddenly one of the space probes appeared to misfire its engines as a spray of gas shot out from the back of it at a strange angle. It caused the probe the deviate from its straight path and fall directly in front of the Frontiere. Before Brisbane could utter a sound, the errant probe slammed into the outside of the Frontiere, causing a loud, shattering noise inside and an intensely jolting vibration. The probe completely disintegrated and for a few split-seconds the gravity screens concealing the Frontiere fragmented. Portions of the outer structure of the ship were dimly visible for a few fleeting fractions of a second.
The collision with the probe knocked the Frontiere slightly off-course, but Brisbane did not dare to use the gas thrusters to nudge the ship back on course. “What are they saying on that base ship?” he asked.
“There is a lot of noise, shouting and cursing,” Colin said in confusion. “Everyone is talking at once. They are trying to figure out what happened to their probe.”
“Good, maybe that will keep them busy until we can get the hell away.”
“They seem to be attributing the destruction of the probe to the engine misfire,” Colin said. “I can’t be completely sure because everyone’s screaming and yelling at once.”
“We’ll know in a few seconds if they think otherwise,” Brisbane said nervously. Again time seemed to trickle by with agonizing slowness. “Bring up a rear view,” Brisbane ordered. The view on the screen switched to a view of the collection of Kellurian vessels slowly receding, remaining quiet and keeping their positions.
Only after the enemy fleet disappeared into the background of stars were the crew members able to relax a little. “That was genuinely frightening,” Brisbane said.
“About the most terrifying ten seconds of my life,” Colin said, relief sounding in his voice.
“I took some pictures of the space probes,” Talox said cheerfully, as if their intimately close brush with a Kellurian war fleet was nothing at all.
“What?” Brisbane asked. “You took pictures of their probes?” he asked in surprise.
“Indeed I did,” Talox said almost chortling. “They appear to be GAS probes – gaseous atmospheric samplers.”
“You mean ‘sniffers’?” Colin asked. “We called them ‘sniffers’. We used them to sample atmospheres of recently discovered planets, looking for bad stuff.”
“What would they be using sniffers for out here?” Brisbane questioned. “It’s in the middle of interstellar space. The only thing out here to sniff is a stray hydrogen atom or two. There’s nothing out here that even resembles an atmosphere.”
“I intercepted some of their telemetry,” Talox said. “It seems they were sampling for one thing only – diatomic nitrogen.”
Brisbane and Colin looked at each other in disbelief. “Nitrogen? There’s no nitrogen out here,” Colin said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I completely agree,” Talox said, as he rechecked his data. “Nonetheless, it is clear they were looking for nitrogen.”
Brisbane’s brow furrowed and he got a worried look on his face. “Something just isn’t adding up here,” he said grimly. “There’s something very suspect about all this.”
Brisbane turned away for a few seconds, lost in thought. He stopped and said, “Computer, run a Detail Level 4 diagnostic sweep of the vessel. Are their any leaks or ways for atmospheric nitrogen to escape this vessel into space?”
The computer took a few seconds and then replied, “No atmospheric leaks are detectable.”
“I didn’t think so,” said Brisbane. “The computer would have picked up a leak instantly. Computer,” he continued, “scan the Frontiere. Compile a list of detectable concentrations of diatomic nitrogen.”
The computer took a few more seconds, and came back with a reply. “There are 17 sources of diatomic nitrogen on board this ship,” it said matter-of-factly.
“Remove sources related to life-support and humanoid biology, also anything connected with the medical resources of the ship. Report any other sources.”
“One source remaining,” the computer answered. “Maneuvering thruster fuel containers.”
Brisbane’s jaw dropped open in abject shock. Even Talox seemed stunned and unable to move.
“The maneuvering thruster fuel cells?” he asked, barely believing his ears. “The thrusters are supposed to run on nothing but pure hydrogen. What is the concentration of nitrogen in the thruster cells?”
“Fuel cells contain a mix of 82% hydrogen and 18% diatomic nitrogen,” was the answer.
“Can you beat that?” Colin asked incredulously. “Our thruster fuel cells are contaminated with nitrogen.”
“More like tagged,” Brisbane said grimly. “Does there seem to be a strange number of coincidences happening here?” he asked, pacing with agitation. “A Kellurian fleet far off its regular position and just happening to be right smack in the middle of our supposedly super-secret pathway? The only thrusters we would be using on this trip are the maneuvering thrusters, and they had been tagged with the exact same gas for which the Kellurians probes were specifically programmed to detect, an element which no one in their right minds would expect to find out here?” He looked around at his two crew mates. “This was no accident;” he said angrily, “the Kellurians were tipped off to our plan. Someone high up in the Galactic Alliance is passing information to them, and someone tried to sabotage the Frontiere!”
“They set a trap for us,” Colin said as the full meaning of events dawned on him. “They tried to force us into using the gas thrusters, and they were going to jump down our throats the instant we did.”
“That would seem to be the most logical explanation,” Talox added. “Perhaps our running two minutes ahead of schedule and being ever so slightly off-course made us miss the heaviest concentration of vessels and the major deployment of nitrogen probes.”
Colin suddenly turned to his monitoring equipment and said, “Lieutenant, I’m picking up some other talk, from a backchannel onboard the science base. Sounds like two engineers talking to each other over an unusual, low-powered system that seems outside the regular, official frequencies.”
“Sounds like their engineers are a little like ours; setting up their own private clandestine little chatterbox so they can talk about the senior staff behind their backs. What are they talking about?”
Colin listened closely for a couple of seconds. “They seem to be saying something about the new tactical officer aboard another Kellurian ship, probably the one who got ‘disciplined’ when they spotted us trying to sneak by.”
“Wow, bad news travels fast around here,” Brisbane said, not especially surprised. “What else are they saying?”
“Oh my...” Colin said ominously. “They are talking about Ambassador Craethon. They say he has been missing for the past four solar days.”
Brisbane stopped his maneuvering work and glanced up with a look of shock on his face. “Ambassador Craethon is missing?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” Colin answered, still listening as closely as he could. The weak signal was dropping in strength as the distance between the Frontiere and the science base swiftly increased. “The ambassador has not been heard from at all, and they have not been able to locate the transponder on his official vessel. They are saying the last known position of his ship was near the Omicron Cassiopeia system.”
“That does not sound good,” Brisbane said apprehensively. “This is the worst possible time for Craethon to disappear.”
“That system has been known to harbor star bases and activities of the Cusp Foundation,” Talox added grimly. A deep frown crossed Brisbane’s face at that information.
And the information was to get worse. “Someone is speculating that the Alliance has had something to do with his disappearance, and that they want the ambassador dead.” After a few tense seconds, Colin leaned back in his char. “Channel has gone dead,” he said. “We’ve moved out of range.”
“This is just getting worse and worse,” Brisbane muttered dejectedly. “I can’t wait until this mission is over and we are back on the Archangel.”
The Frontiere continued on its meandering journey toward Dreen 7. Several tense hours later the cloud-shrouded face of Dreen 7 appeared before them, and the Frontiere made its first loop around the backside of the planet, dropping low enough into the upper atmosphere to be noticeably slowed by atmospheric drag. Even though Ambassador Craethon was reported missing, his influence was still apparent. Although no fewer than eight warships patrolled the vicinity of the planet, there was still a “blind spot” on the far side of the planet where the Frontiere could drop down into the atmosphere, generating static electricity from friction with the gas molecules but not be picked up by any Kellurian sensors. The Frontiere emerged from the atmosphere and started on its next loop around the planet, but this time the other end of its orbit was closer to the surface than the one before. True enough, the thirty-fourth loop around the planet reduced their velocity sufficiently so that they did not have to emerge from the atmosphere back into space, but continued downward toward the surface.
“We’re still going to have to make a number of orbits around the planet to burn off some more speed,” Brisbane noted. “We’ll use these passes to make a sensor map of the surface and see if we spot anything unusual. Talox, drop the gravity screens and activate the full sensor arrays. The ionization layer of the upper atmosphere is enough to shield us from those nosy Kellurians.”
“Sensor arrays activated and mapping, Lieutenant,” Talox replied. “It is indeed fortunate that the Frontiere’s sensors are so highly developed. We can map vast areas of the planet with each orbit. Usually it would take days to map a planet this size.”
“Yeah, they really did something right when they built this little gem,” Brisbane answered with satisfaction. “Post the sensor data to the monitors as soon as it is processed,” he said.
As their spacecraft swept around the planet, a detailed sensor map of the surface quickly took shape. Oceans, deserts and mountain ranges were charted and detailed, along with rivers, lakes and plains. Many geological features were catalogued and cross-referenced, but nothing unusual immediately came to light. Two hours later over 80% of the planet had been scanned by the Frontiere’s sensors, but would not give up any of the secrets that the crew traveled such a long way to discover.
Brisbane, Talox and Colin poured over the sensor data until their eyes began to hurt. “I’m just not seeing much of anything,” Brisbane announced wearily.
“I agree, Lieutenant,” Talox said, slightly disappointed something didn’t jump out at them. “Humanoids and civilization are still many millions of years away.” Talox stopped and considered what he had just said. “Or, more correctly, they would be millions of years away, if all life had not been extinguished below.” He turned to the communications officer. “Do you agree, Lieutenant Bradshaw?”
Colin was watching a sea of numbers swim by on his console when something grabbed his attention. "I think I just spotted something," he said as he intently adjusted the controls on his monitor. "It looks like maybe a hit on something unusual on the 14 terahertz band."
"All stop," Brisbane said as he brought the Frontiere to a halt. "Maintain position. Talox, run the sensor feed back 10 seconds. Refresh my memory - what is the 14T band supposed to pick up?"
"The 14 terahertz band is keyed to detect high-density, high-atomic-number crystal lattices," Talox responded as he replayed the sensor data. "The kind normally associated with rare-earth metallic elements or artificially manufactured alloys."
Brisbane and Colin gathered behind Talox at his console as he started the sensor replay. "Right there," Colin said excitedly, pointing to an area on the screen. "Look at all those 4's, a solid block of them. These numbers are too regular, too sequential. If it was a natural mineral outcropping, purity such as this would be impossible. I would expect to see a lot more random numbers. As I recall, 4's are a signature of the uranium-duranium-tetranium family of ultra-heavy metals."
"Indeed, you are correct," Talox said. "Some 2's and 3's around the edges, but definitely something extraordinary."
"So it's either a huge outcropping of nearly-pure heavy metal - very unlikely, to be sure - or the product of a civilization with highly-advanced metallurgy skills, also inappropriate for this planet," Colin added.
"Whatever it is," Talox said, looking toward Brisbane as he returned to his console, "I am strongly in favor of examining the site ourselves."
Brisbane stopped what he was doing and looked at him. “Shoot an antiproton pulse at the surface?” he asked. “Jeez, why don’t we just call up the Kellurians and have them join us down on the surface for a couple of drinks?”
“I know it sounds insane, Brisbane,” Colin continued. “But that’s the only way we’re going to get any real data from that spot. If we collimate the beam carefully and use an ultra-narrowband filter, I think a burst of a couple of milliseconds ought to get us enough additional data without waking up the Kellurians.”
Again Brisbane turned to Talox. “What do you think about this, Talox?” he asked.
Talox was still recompiling and reprocessing the data when he stopped and slowly looked up. He thought intently for a couple of seconds – an eternity for a Cyclopean – and finally said. “I think it would be worth the risk, Lieutenant,” he said quietly. “There is clearly something out of the ordinary down there, and we don’t have much time to descend to the surface to search for answers every time we spot a potential anomaly. I believe this may be our best chance at finding some clues to the mystery of the death of Dreen 7.”
“Then we have nine minutes before the area on the planet is within range. Talox, calibrate the radiation emitter for a tight, narrow antiproton burst. Colin, transfer all the computers over to the sensor panel. We’re giving it a shot, and hope the Kellurians are taking a nap or something.”
Minutes later, a sharp, focused burst of antiprotons blasted toward a tiny area on the planet’s surface and reflected back up to the Frontiere. The computers were running at full power and quickly processed the data. Feeding it directly to the monitor screens, it just took a couple minutes for everyone on board to come to the same observation.
“Right here, and here,” Colin said, excitedly pointing to the sensor data. “I knew it. This shows highly refined, isotropic duranium. Not only does duranium not occur naturally on any planet in this entire system, but there is no civilization to import or refine the duranium to a usable form.”
“You’re dead right on that, Colin,” Brisbane said, nodding his head in agreement. “There’s something down there that came from somewhere else, and it may hold the key to the destruction of this planet. That is where we need to look first.”
The Frontiere dipped downward and to the right as it descended to the surface. Still under gravity screens, it emerged from a layer of broken, gray clouds on the other side of a small series of ridges from the unknown object. Fifteen feet above the surface, the craft slowly rounded the end of the ridge and the crewmen caught their first glimpse of the mystery object resting in a shallow crater. Approximately 12 feet tall, there was a squat, round base-like portion with four vents and a number of ports visible around the outside. On top of that there was a rectangular, middle section with some large cylindrical tanks and radio dishes, and most startling was a large, spherical half-dome on top which appeared to be made of some sort of fine-mesh metallic screen, and dimly visible underneath the half-dome was a collection of emitters and transmitters.
For about ten seconds the crewmen said nothing, just taking in the sight of this amazingly bizarre, enigmatic machine in front of them. The outside of the object was streaked with dust and burn marks, obviously left over from a trip through space and a descent through the atmosphere. It was clear the object was not constructed on the surface but was built elsewhere and transported her, probably under its own power.
“What do you make of that?” Brisbane asked in amazement as they all stared at the image on the view screen.
“It looks like it was cobbled together over the past century using spare parts,” Colin replied. “That dome on top looks to be the most recent and advanced. The middle part looks like the fuel tanks and fuselage from an old Gamma booster rocket. And the bottom part, I have no idea where that came from.”
“I think I’ve seen that before,” Brisbane said with amazement. He turned to the library computer console of the Frontiere and started to transfer some visual information from the sensors. “If this is what I think it is, I haven’t seen one of these things outside of a museum.” He started to get some information back from the library and transferred it to his colleagues. Their monitors showed a picture of another object which bore a close resemblance to the base of the object in front of them, which in its entirety looked like an extremely strange totem pole from some long-lost extinct race of people.
“This is a picture of an old, obsolete utility vehicle originally used by the terra-forming teams of the Beta Carinae colonies,” Brisbane explained. “It was called a ‘Betty’ and used mostly as an automated drone transport to move large terra-forming and soil-moving vehicles from one planet to another. At the time it was an efficient way to move things around but could barely muster five percent of lightspeed. It was quickly replaced by faster, more powerful transport systems and became a historical museum piece. But someone apparently found one somewhere and came up with a use for it.”
“Looks like there have been some modifications made to the engines to significantly increase the speed,” Talox noted. “And also to hide any traceable exhaust or electromagnetic noise. It looks like my ‘silent running’ idea was more popular than I had imagined.”
“The base portion still has a little bit of power running inside it,” Brisbane noted, reviewing some sensor information. “It’s ...” The discussion in the Frontiere’s control center was disrupted by the beeping of an alarm on a sensor panel.
“Whoa, that thing is still putting out a neutrino stream,” Colin said, adjusting some controls. “Radiation levels are pretty hot, we better not approach it any closer.”
“We weren’t even looking for neutrinos in our original searching,” Talox said. “It looks like we are starting to get our fair share of surprises now.”
The next several minutes were spent examining sensor data and speculating on the purpose and origin of such a strange, unusual object. As more information came in it became increasingly clear that it was constructed to be some large neutrino emitter, almost certainly the source of the massive, extreme neutrino burst the Kellurians detected, but its ultimate purpose and whether or not it was responsible for the dead, sterile planet on which it now rested were still utterly unknown.
While Talox and Brisbane were making some more sensor sweeps of the structure Colin continued reading the library information about the obsolete transport system Brisbane called a “Betty”.
“Lieutenant,” he said, still reading from the monitor. “Did you know that the Beta Carinae transport used some form of an ancient telemetry recording process called ‘black box technology’?”
“I remember reading about that,” Talox said, his eyebrow arching up with interest. “It was used as early as the twentieth century in air transportation systems. It automatically recorded a wealth of information and data about the craft every time it was used, and was useful in case of a crash or other catastrophic accident.”
“Right you are, Talox,” Brisbane confirmed. “It’s possible that the base unit has a data cartridge and a record of how it got here and from where. The questions are, does it have a cartridge and how to we get a hold of it? Talox, can you set up a universal computer link between our computer and the automated intelligence on that thing?”
“I don’t know if the onboard computer systems are still operational on the object,” he said, beginning to manipulate some controls on his computer console. “I’ll try the commonly known, simplest protocols there are to see if it recognizes any of them.” He watched intently on his computer monitor as the Frontiere’s computer attempted to greet the computers onboard the Betty transport module in all known languages and contexts. After nearly a minute the monitor on Talox’s station beeped three times, and some alien script writing started flashing across the screen, along with a symbol that stopped everyone in their tracks. It was a flattened crescent moon with extended cusps, nearly touching each other, the symbol of the Cusp Foundation.
“There it is, the fingerprint of the Cuspies,” Colin said in disgust. “We don’t need much more proof of their involvement than that.”
“This is starting to make more sense now,” Brisbane said, looking at the image on the view screen. “Craethon told me at the Rimdao One meeting that right after the huge neutrino pulse the Kellurians surprised three rogue vessels as they hovered above Dreen 7. One of the vessels tried to fire a nuke at the planet’s surface but a Kellurian fighter destroyed it. If the Cuspies had developed some sort of device to destroy life on a planetary scale, they might have wanted to try it out on a test planet like Dreen 7. When the Kellurians showed up unexpectedly it would have been really important to destroy all the evidence on the surface, and a nuclear missile would do the trick nicely.”
“That would certainly be a plausible explanation, given all the facts we know,” Colin said.
“I think I’ve discovered the data recorder and cartridge,” Talox said excitedly. “It should be right here, on the upper right side,” he said, pointing to an area on the screen image. “It has an ejection system which will eject the cartridge, as in the case of an accident.”
“Can you pop the cartridge out the base unit?” Brisbane asked in excitement
Talox looked intently at the script on the computer screen. “It’s very difficult to read this script,” he said. “It is in some sort of dialect I haven’t seen before.” He continued to read the data on the screen. “However, I think the eject command is right … here.” He used the computer cursor to execute a computer script from a list on the screen. On the main view screen, a small port opened on the upper left side of the base unit and a small, cylindrical, metallic object poked about halfway out.
At the same instant, a loud alarm began sounding on the security console. “What’s going on?” Brisbane asked with trepidation.
Running over to the console, Colin swiftly touched some controls. He looked up at the main view screen. “That thing was booby-trapped,” he said. “When we tripped the data cartridge eject, it set off a radio alarm. It’s screaming bloody murder, and the Kellurians are sure to hear that.”
“Damn, they’ll be all over us in no time at all,” Brisbane said nervously. “Talox, we have to get that thing out of the base unit.”
“It’s too far away for us to physically go over and pull it out,” Talox said, “and even if we could the radiation levels are much too high. We would get a lethal dose in seconds.”
“What about the graviton generators?” Colin asked. “Can we operate a tractor beam to latch onto the data cartridge and pull it over to us?”
“That’s about the only option we have right now,” Brisbane said with anxiety. “Talox, what about that? Can you manipulate the graviton generators to focus on the exposed end of the cartridge and pull it to us?”
“I don’t know, Lieutenant,” Talox said, “but I will definitely try. We will need to drop the gravity screens in order to use the graviton beam.”
“Do it,” Brisbane ordered. “We’re going for broke here.”
The gravity screens were dropped and the silvery form of the Frontiere blurred into visibility above the dusty, dead plain. Talox immediately started using his long, nimble, extremely flexible fingers to work the controls of the graviton generators and tailored a thin, extremely focused tractor beam and turned it on the data cartridge. As the graviton beam made contact with it, you could just barely see it vibrate and jiggle.
Talox continued manipulating the controls. The data cartridge jostled and vibrated more but did not move much.
“You’ve got it in the beam, Talox,” Brisbane said as he kept an eye on the tactical sensors for evidence of any Kellurians approaching. “Why isn’t it moving?”
“Unknown, Lieutenant,” Talox answered, slightly confused. “It seems to be caught on something.” Talox continued to use the graviton beam to bump and jostle the metallic cartridge, hoping to knock it loose.
Suddenly there was a huge explosion in the low hills just beyond the object and to the right. A brilliant bolt of blue light rained down from the sky and blasted a hole in the ground behind the object and to the left. The Kellurians heard the alarm and were attacking from orbit. A sphere of green light dropped out of the cloud layer and impacted on the ground a short distance from the Frontiere with a loud, concussive blast, rocking the spacecraft back and forth. Rocks and clods of soil rained down on the Frontiere and bounced off its outer hull.
Colin quickly picked himself up off the floor and looked at the tactical screens. “Are those damned Kellurians insane?” he gasped. “Don’t they know this object is down here?”
“Let me answer your questions in the order you asked them,” Brisbane replied, leaning over Talox as he furiously worked to regain the lock of the graviton beam on the data cartridge. “Yes, those damned Kellurians are insane, and no, they probably don’t even know this object is here. All they know is that there’s some kind of radio signal coming from down here and they are bound to scan us any second. They might think we’re a Cuspie vessel.” He turned to the Subcommander. “Talox, how are things coming with the cartridge.”
“I’ve increased the power levels by 50% and still no movement,” Talox reported, with a barely noticeable tinge of anxiety in his voice. His fingers flew over the graviton controls with an almost supernatural speed. On the view screen it was obvious the data cartridge was vibrating quite strongly.
“I’m switching to the two auxiliary emitters on each wing,” Talox said. “By operating them in tandem I may be able to wrest the cartridge free from whatever is retaining it.”
Colin stopped what he was doing and looked over to Talox. “You can do that?” he asked in amazement. “Operate two grav generators at once?”
“Having seventeen independent, skinny fingers does have its advantages,” Brisbane answered. Outside, several more volleys of weapons fire descended on the area from above, blasting out small craters a short distance away. Luckily the Frontiere was shielded from the impacts by the low ridges.
Talox locked both emitter beams on the cartridge and jiggled them back and forth strongly. “Increasing power by another 50%,” he said. This time the entire structure of the alien object started to shake and wobble slightly from the force of the graviton beams.
Finally with one strong pull from the right emitter, the data cartridge flew out of the base unit and hung suspended in the air. “It’s free!” Talox cried out jubilantly. “The cartridge has broken free!”
“Fantastic job, Talox,” Brisbane said breathlessly. “Now, can you pull it into our primary cargo hold?” Activating several more controls, the cartridge spun around in the air and started gliding toward the Frontiere.
“The cartridge is still showing a lot of residual radioactivity,” Brisbane said. “Colin, set up a radiation containment force field in the hold.”
“Containment field primed and ready to go,” he responded. The data cartridge began picking up speed and headed toward the lower belly of the Frontiere. Another laser bolt from above impacted the ground very close to the object and nearly knocked it over on its side. Finally there was an audible noise as the data cartridge was pulled into the Frontiere’s cargo hold.
“Close up everything, we’re getting the hell out of here,” Brisbane ordered as he activated the navigation console. “Talox, get the compspace computers online. Colin, raise the dimensional shielding, I don’t think the Kellurians are going to make it easy for us to get away.”
The Frontiere veered off to the right as another flurry of antimatter torpedoes rained down from the dark, angry sky. One of the torpedoes hit the alien structure directly and destroyed it utterly in a massive explosion which showered bits of red-hot metal on a wide area.
“Those idiot Kellurians just did what the Cuspies tried so hard to do,” Colin said as he watched the smoke and fire from the new crater on the view screen. “They destroyed any evidence of Cuspie activity on this planet! Whose side are they on, anyway?”
“They are really starting to annoy me,” Brisbane said through clenched teeth, as the Frontiere banked upward and blasted into the sky at a tremendous rate of speed. Within seconds they were above the atmosphere and the dead, sterile surface of Dreen 7 was behind them. The darkness of space surrounded them once more, and in front of them was a gathering of eight Kellurian warships, primed and ready for battle.
Several warships on the right side of the Kellurian battle group started laying cross fire to the right of the Frontiere, trying to push them to the left side where the other ships were massing for a concentrated attack.
“They’re trying to push us over to the left flank,” Colin said as he viewed the tactical display.
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” Brisbane said, his eyes fixated on the navigation controls. “If they want us to go to the side, we’ll just do something a little different, fly right down their throats.” Talox and Colin exchanged worried glances. They knew when Brisbane was in one of his moods; the only reasonable things you could do are to hang on and pray.
The pulsed laser fire was fast and thick from the right side, trying to force the Frontiere to the left, but in a breathtaking, astonishing display of speed and maneuverability, the Frontiere executed some extremely fast, swooping corkscrew moves, evading the laser fire, and spun nearly halfway around in space. It pointed itself toward the middle of the Kellurian battle group.
“I hope you’re ready with those compspace computers, Talox,” Brisbane called out, “because this train is leaving the station.”
Talox touched some final controls on his console and several blue and green lights flashed on Brisbane’s navigation station.
“All compspace velocities online and available, Lieutenant,” Talox said, gurgling with excitement. He knew what was going to happen.
“Drop the shields, Colin, we’re going in!” Brisbane said, almost gleefully. With that, the Frontiere took off with an unbelievable burst of speed and hurtled directly toward the middle of the group of warships. So quickly did they move that one of the Kellurian cruisers fired their laser cannon at them and missed by a long shot, but ended up blowing off the wing of another nearby battle cruiser. The Frontiere blurred for a second while the space warps built around them and then vanished in a brilliant burst of white light as they dropped into compressed space, leaving behind about a hundred extremely angry Kellurians to scream and curse at each other.
