Into Darkness

Posted on Sat Oct 14th, 2017 @ 11:25pm by Captain Remas McDonald

1,219 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: S1: These Are The Voyages...
Location: Edge Of Federation Space, Entering System Far Far Away
Timeline: MD 1

“Commander? If you want to come up front we’re about to drop out of warp, should be a sight to see.”

Remas didn’t take long to exit the berthing area of the Runabout, the pent-up energy of being cooped up for a week giving him the sort of nervous twitch that made folks shy away from him. Even pushing the Arrow class Runabouts engines up to their theoretical safe limit for a high-speed cruise had only shaved twelve hours off of the transit time from Earth. But here they were, on the very edge of Federation space.

As far and away as it was possible to get until after launch.

Remas settled himself into the copilot's chair, securing himself as the streaking optical illusion of warp speed flittered past the viewports. With a doppler whine, the warp drive cut out and the Runabout left warp into perfect blackness: no stars, no planets. Well, maybe something, as a softball sized sphere of dim light lay in the centre of the canopy.

“Welcome to Far Far Away Sir. Not a lot to see yet, have to dial the photonic shielding in the viewport to maximum when we come into the system. That Blue Giant sun would blind us if we could see it clearly,” the pilot said with a smile, looking over his controls. “Don’t worry I have the navigation beacon locked in. We’ll be in the shadow of Planet 2 in a few seconds and I can roll the blinds down for you.”

Remas said nothing, watching as the dim ball of light slide off the glass as the craft pivoted onto a new course. He’d read the briefing file on the launch star system for Project Long Jump: an O Type blue giant star at the midpoint of its life cycle, home to a pair of rocky worlds orbiting far too close to the sun to give any life a chance. Both were tidally locked, with surface temperatures that allowed oceans of liquid steel to form. It was the star that was important, the powerhouse of gravity and pressure the Long Jump team would use to perform the impossible.

“Hull temperature dropping, lumin count falling into the safe zone of the visual spectrum. We’re in Planet 2’s shadow, rolling the windows down for ya…” the pilot grinned, as the visual changed before them. The black night side of Planet 2 dominated Remas’s vision, crowned the sapphire glow of the stars fierce majesty. It was like watching a waterfall of jewels in the colours of sapphires and jades as the solar wind bombarded the metal planets battered magnetosphere.

“Well, ain’t that a glorious sight?” Remas whisper, leaning forward ever so slightly until the harness of his seat pulled him back.

“Mhm. Oceans of molten steel on one side, lakes of frozen molecular nitrogen on the other that boil under your EV suit boots? Colour me jaded but I’m not gonna settle down here and plant roses,” the pilot said absentmindedly, his hands fluttering over the controls. “Ah, there she is. Right where I left her. ETA to the base ship is five minutes unless you want to do a fly by?”

Remas looked at the man as though he thought him crazy for asking such a thing, and the pilot just laughed.

“Plotting a new course, ignoring control tower aye-aye.”

Over the course of a minute, a smear of light on the dark side of Planet 2 expanded slowly before it swallowed the entire canopy. The USS I Knew I Forgot To Tell You Something looked like someone had gotten drunk whilst designing a dry dock berth and then tried to play off their mistake as intentions even down to the stubby warp nacelles strapped to her back. It had the cage like set up of a traditional dry dock, but built into the inner surface were a staggered series of now stilled rings. Each ring had been the subject of months of construction work, and whose creation had taken up the majority of the Projects time and funding. Set within the rings was the projects literal nest egg, a two hundred meters long wedge of smoothed inert matter. It was a faring designed to aid in what the boffin’s called ‘phase state acceleration trauma’.

Remas thought of it as the price for breaking all but one of the laws of thermodynamics.

“Hard to imagine how much gear is crammed into the eggshell,” Remas muttered, undoing the buckle and standing to get a better look. “One Ronin class heavy cruiser, a quartet of freighters and over two hundred colonists.”

“And four Lammas,” the pilot grumbled. “I should know, I transported them out here. Along with most of the senior staff, only one of which was friendlier than the Lammas. Anyway, we’ll be docking with the command ship in a second. Can’t land on the Traveller without breaking open the faring. You can transfer over to your ship from the I Knew I Forgot To Tell You Something. I’m sure Director Kasmir will be there to greet you, Sir.”

“What?” Remas asked, broken from his reverie.

“Oh, it just seemed that when I left here to go get you from Starfleet Command that Miss Kasmir seemed...enthusiastic in your arrival Sir,” the pilot said, not betraying any of the coyness that wanted to creep out. “Seemed to be a matter firmly entrenched on her mind.”

“Supposed I was to ask you to keep your eyes on the road instead of gossiping?” Remas asked with no real fire to his words.

“Mhm, it’s on autopilot. I’ve been doing this run for over a year bringing supplies, specialists and a llama out here to the edge of nothing. We’d seen the blackness of the intergalactic medium from here if it wasn’t for Far Far Away’s extreme brightness. So there’s not a lot for a pilot to do between flights than gossip with any and all who will,” the pilot grinned. “Besides I imagine you’ll be pounced on by your crew before the good Miss Kasmir can pull herself away from final calibration of the accelerator. But all good things come to those who wait so I’m told.”

“So you're told,” Remas shook his head, watching as the shuttle wheeled around to align its docking port to the airlock connector on the side of the redesigned dry docks habitation section. With a thunk, the physical connectors locked in, and the shuttle’s engines powered down.

“Welcome to the biggest gun made by the United Federation of Planets,” the pilot said. “And tomorrow Sir? Good luck, and Godspeed.”

“Thanks,” Lieutenant Commander Remas McDonald said and stepped away from the cockpit. His duffle was by the door ready and waiting, and the airlock cycled smoothly. With a slight pop, the Runabouts atmosphere equalized with the command ship.

He was here, at the very edge of the Federation.

And tomorrow afternoon, all being well, he’d be so far beyond it as to promise his crew a place in the history books.

“Best foot forward,” he muttered and stepped forward. The near trip over the lip of the airlock wasn't prophectic at all.

At.
All.

 

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