Slipspace

49. Gated



A new chapter! Woot! A blessed yule, merry christmas, and happy holidays to all! Here's hoping we go into this coming orbit of the stellar source a little bit better than we started the last.

Sitting in a small ship or shuttle and seeing light bend around you and distort as you cross the event horizon of the gate was an experience in and of itself. Watching on as ever more of your giant ship is devoured by an artificial wormhole is another. I’d seen it before, of course, but the void beyond the gate still looked for all the galaxy like a devouring maw of nothingness tinged in chromatic light that never seemed to settle on a color you could fully comprehend. In our quest to pick up cargo, I had just tossed a multi-hundred-million credit vessel consisting of several hundred-thousands of tonnes of material beyond the bounds of physics and to the edges of reality itself.

Space travel was so freaking cool sometimes…

In moments, the dazzling light show had broken to reveal the glories of the human race’s home system. Said glories included… absolutely nothing but a dozen ships arrayed around a gate complex that was nearly identical to the one we had just passed through. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I couldn’t help but feel a touch disappointed.

Gates and their accompanying power sources were incredibly complex and powerful pieces of technology. Unfortunately, any technology dealing with power levels that could overshadow small stars was ultimately incredibly dangerous as well. In the unlikely event of a large-scale failure of the gate safety systems, a detonation of a gate could potentially erase entire planetary systems from existence along with anything and everything else within the next few light minutes. Thus, they were always kept well away from major population centers.

Of course, this gate being where it was, I couldn’t be surprised by the warship that was parked nearby. It was nearly as big as the Ratatosk and was covered in armament; certainly not something I ever wanted to be on the wrong side of. Then that warship hailed us.

Echo, acting in her role as captain, stood and answered.

“This is the Independent Cargo Vessel Ratatosk, operated by Erickson Logistics. Is there a problem?”

A severe looking man in a Terran Union Navy uniform answered. “According to travel mandate Jericho Nineteen, you are ordered to hold position and set your power systems to idle while a scan of your ship is conducted.

Rather opposite of most gates I’d gone through, we were hailed and told to hold position while our ship was scanned. In most systems, gate control wanted travelers clear of the space lanes as quickly as possible in order to facilitate other traffic. Here though, security looked to be on high alert. I could only suppose that the Union navy kept tight security in this system simply because of what it was.

“Helm, cut engines and set thrusters to station keeping.” It seemed that Echo’s father had taught her well. The acting captain was keeping her calm and not letting her voice betray any feelings she might have about the situation. I did as I was told, though I had to get Casey’s help to adjust the controls appropriately. Interestingly, the guests on the bridge all seemed to be holding their tongues, apparently content to let the young woman in the big chair to handle the situation.

Though willing to follow orders from the navy cruiser’s commander, Captain Callisto spoke to the man again, her voice tinged by a curiosity that I was quite sure we all felt. “What is the purpose of this scan? I was not aware of any such travel mandate.”

In all my years, I’d had very little experience dealing with the military. There were a couple times that we’d gotten calls from system patrols while on the Forge, and there was a naval representative on any major station, including D’reth, but I’d never had reason to be around them. Sure, I respected them well enough as a concept. System Defense, a division of the Terran Union Navy, was the front line against piracy throughout the entirety of the core systems and ostensibly kept everyone safe. My issue with them was that, more often than not, they stood idly by while anything happened that didn’t directly and negatively affect Union interests.

By all accounts, they should have been involved with the whole situation with Kruger. Afterall, he had sabotaged not just one, but two ship's reactor cores. If the Ratatosk’s had gone critical like the Oxide’s, or if I had been anywhere closer to the station when my ship littered thousands of kilometers of space with debris, people would have been at serious risk. Anti-matter warheads were the ultimate weapon of the military, but that technology was the very same as what made ship reactors function. There was a very good reason that there were such stringent requirements for pilots to keep their certification. As long as you sat behind the controls, you were in possession of a potentially cataclysmic weapon of mass destruction. Even a ship as small as a shuttle could end life on an entire planet if it hit at significant fractions of light speed.

All that stood between would-be terrorists and the destruction of entire populations was the planetary and orbital defenses that were all operated by SysDef. The megacorps had their own defenses, but the regular person didn’t.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics,” began the officer haughtily. “But it isn’t my problem if you haven’t kept up with the most recent mandates. If you have complaints or questions, please direct them to the Office of Public Affairs.

Nobody on the bridge really seemed to be happy with that answer as I looked around, the Ericksons least of all. “Well, no point arguing then, is there?” Her tone obviously nonplussed, Echo gave the man his response. “Scan away, SysDef, not like you’ll find anything. We’re just freighters.”

There was a brief pause as the office spoke to someone off screen. When he turned back, the man gave a cocky smirk. “As if you had a choice in the matter. Regardless, the scan shows clear. You’re free to go.” I could almost hear the words of an order forming in my girlfriend’s mouth when the officer tut tutted at us through the comms channel, interrupting what was about to be said. “A piece of advice for you though, Civies. You might want to mind your temper in the future. Not every member of the Union Navy is as patient as I am.”

Several of the people on the bridge tried to spit retorts at him, but the channel cut too quickly, possibly for the better. Even still, mumbled frustrations echoed from the bulkheads. Again, I looked back towards the command chair, my tongue desperately trying to rebel against the leash I had it on. This wasn’t my place though, not my ship.

From where he stood against the aft wall, Conrad Erickson put a hand on his son’s shoulder and silently shook his head, stopping Marcus in his tracks before himself stepping forward towards the center seat. When he spoke, his seemingly calm and carefree sounding voice was directed at the acting captain, but was loud enough that it was clear he wanted everyone to hear.

“Just as the officer suggested, I will be having a word with the public affairs office. It would seem that this generation of personnel did not receive adequate training before being inflicted upon the populace.”

Echo blinked at him owlishly. “Why? Did he violate protocol or something?”

The old man simply shook his head, though a muscle right at the corner of his lips threatened to betray him. “No, much more basic than that. If that man is representative, it would seem to me that the OTS has forgotten to teach the difference between one’s mouth and rectum.” I wasn’t able to quite tell which one made the sound, but I was pretty sure I heard one of Echo’s mothers snorting. It was hard to tell over the guffaws let out by others.

“Come now, Conrad,” Said Jay. “It’s hardly appropriate to judge the entire navy by the actions of one officer. I’ve no doubt that their officer molds are still of similar shapes to the ones we were shoved into.”

Oh Jay, you always were one to avoid-

“No, rather they look to the recruiters who are apparently falsifying aptitude tests for those who clearly lack mental faculties, if not credits from their parent’s coffers.”

If there had been anything in my mouth at that moment I might have spit it out. The always serious Captain Blackburn had just cracked a joke, and one that was directed at the military no less. My former captain was always respectful of the institution he’d served before, evidence suggested that wasn’t necessarily the case anymore.

Both old men began jovially bickering over where the fault was and Echo, barely holding in her own laughter, ended up actually asking them to leave her bridge so that she could do her job properly. Despite some minor protests, the old friends agreed with her.

“My granddaughter is right, you old geezer,” said Conrad, a smile both on his face and in his voice. “The bridge is no place for retirees. Come on, I’ve got a deck and a bottle that we haven’t spent time with in far too many years.”

Of course, that only served to start up a new argument between the two, this time about who was showing their age more and how said age must have dulled their card playing prowess. I allowed myself a quiet giggle at them. It was good to know that my mentor still had some life in him. I’d noticed a fatigue in him that had never been present before while we spent time together over the past week. It was a silent thing, much like many other things that Jay avoided discussing, but at least he still had friends.

Once the two had left, things returned to business on the bridge, albeit not without some whispers being traded between crew; some laughing at the men who’d just departed, but others were discussing the implications of the apparent mandate. I was not immune to that curiosity either and made use of some of my new toys to speak silently to my oldest friend, all the while executing the command to get us moving againg given by the incredibly beautiful captain.

“Hey Vox?” I tested. It was still odd using the new cranial implants. Whereas before I had a subvocal microphone embedded in my throat, I now possessed a much more advanced interface that eliminated the need to do anything more than think hard enough in the metaphorical direction of the AI to get her attention. It wasn’t any sort of telepathy, as the tech still couldn’t really read minds or anything like that, but the concepts at work were still effectively magic to me and it was taking a lot of practice to speak without actually speaking.

Thankfully, I seemed to get it right enough that Vox replied back immediately. “You rang, Miss Adresta?” Again, I was struck by the oddness of ‘hearing’ the AI’s voice without the use of my ears.

“You know you don’t have to call me ‘Miss’ all the time, Vox. I’ve told you a dozen times, at least. You’re my friend and friends don’t need to be so formal with each other.”

The digital being that my AI friend had evolved into merely chortled. I’d only gotten her to drop the non-sentient act recently, but she only allowed her true self to shine over private connections with me and other highly trusted friends, namely Echo. Still, it was nice to see this side of her.

“Ah, I could stop, but for one, your human traditions do not apply to me. As for the other point, the increased levels of dopamine registered by your biomonitor would appear to indicate that you enjoy the affirmations. Would this deduction be incorrect?”

It took all of my effort to avoid groaning from my physical mouth. “I’m fairly certain you’re teasing me, but you are way too good at hiding your feelings for me to ever be sure. I’m not sure whether to be frustrated or jealous or both.”

“An advantage of my digital being, certainly. What was it you needed?”

I could feel my eyebrows pulling together. “Not even going to answer my question, are you?”

This time I could feel the cheek in her replying voice. “Will you answer mine?”

My creased brow was replaced with a light blush that I hoped none of the other crew would see. “Anyways, do you think you could take a look into this ‘Jericho nineteen’ travel mandate? I would assume that you saw all of that with the picket ship commander and I figure that you can find info easier than I can.”

Vox replied affirmatively. “I am likely capable of finding that information, but for the sake of security, I will limit my searches to unsecured BBS’s. While I’ve no doubt that I could infiltrate the military infrastructure, it is unlikely I could do so without risk of detection.”

“I never said anything about doing that! Just asking you to check the news feeds.”

“Perhaps you should have been more specific, then. One moment, if you would.”

I didn’t find it hard at all to fill that time she required. Echo had ordered a course laid in for Sol V-3, the natural satellite Ganymede in orbit around Jupiter, the fifth planetary body from Sol.

By the time Vox finally came back on the line I had already fed the information from the navigation computer into the helm and nudged the ship onto the correct course. Of course, I had a feeling that the AI hadn’t needed that long and merely had waited until I’d finished.

“I have completed at least a preliminary search,” Vox started. “I unfortunately was unable to find much more information beyond the official statement made by your government.” With a bit of mental effort, I did my best to communicate an ‘and?’ I got the equivalent of a shrug in response. “There is some chatter in a corporate workers BBS about possible privateering issues along the far borders of the settled systems, however there is little to indicate any issues spreading into the core worlds.”

I hummed. “With how little SysDef usually cares about piracy out there, something must be going on. Keep a finger on the pulse, if you would, Vox. And pass all of this along to the Ericksons. I don’t think any of us want to get caught up in something nasty.”

“Certainly something to be avoided.”


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