Hayden was sure Pavlovich was trying to kill him on the Old Man’s orders. The demands of his position were exhausting. The captain claimed the punishing schedule was necessary because of the reduced crew complement and the number of jumps required to get them to their objective. Only when the ageing engines failed on the approach to the final gate did he reluctantly agree everyone was exhausted and ordered most of them to bed.
Hayden wondered if that order had included Cora. The young engineer seemed to thrive on the pressure. As far as he knew, she took no downtime. He suspected she kept a supply of stimms and considered asking if she would share with him.
No sooner would she and her team put one thing back online than another system would fail. Artificial gravity went out three times, and they lost life support in half the lower decks at one point.
Hayden worried they would never make it back to Earth, marooned somewhere or dying in an explosion when something critical failed.
One jump-gate remained to be traversed. It was perhaps fortuitous that they now had some time to put the ship in good order before making the final FTL leap into the unknown.
Still exhausted, despite a brief opportunity for sleep, he arrived for his shift on the bridge thirty seconds ahead of schedule. He even had enough time to grab a cup of strong coffee from the mess hall.
Pavlovich looked up from the command chair to acknowledge his arrival. Hayden noted two officers were already at their posts and well into preparations for activation of the light-gate drive. Ensign Bates, a rail-thin albino man of indeterminate age, was at the sensor and communications console. Ensign Kwok, a petite Asian woman of about forty years, occupied the helm/navigation station.
Two stations remained unoccupied: engineering control and the tactical alcove, an isolated booth for the ship’s gunnery commander. That bridge position alone dated the vessel to a time before all ship defences became managed by synths.
Hayden immediately logged himself in, and, one by one, verified his interlink with each system. It had taken him a couple of days beyond his initial orientation to become comfortable with Scimitar’s archaic interfaces.
“Engineer, report please?” Pavlovich spoke into an ancient headset. It was another anachronism Hayden needed to get used to.
He glanced up and noted the engineering station was empty.
“Well, get it finished and haul your ass up here.” The captain removed the apparatus and as an afterthought addressed Kaine. “She’s patching a coolant leak and will be right up.”
He nodded his thanks and silently wondered how the ship had survived so long out at the fringes.
Eight minutes later, Cora breezed in, unfazed, and assumed her station. After logging in, she announced, almost incidentally, “All systems are green for FTL jump, Cap’n.”
“About bloody time.” He regarded the still open hatchway.
“Where the hell is Gunney?”
She smiled at Pavlovich. “He’s coming, sir. Don’t worry.”
“I thought I met the entire bridge crew,” said Hayden.
“He is our tactical officer, Kaine. He doesn’t much like hanging out with the rest of us.”
“He’s been down in engineering getting updated,” added Cora.
“He’s a synth?”
The captain laughed. “Don’t ever let him hear you call him that.”
“He’s a cyborg,” Cora said. “Gunney doesn’t like people much.”
Hayden was dumbfounded. It figured that the Scimitar had an outdated gunnery officer. Before he could say anything, a rhythmic clanking echoed through the open hatch and an enormous hulk of a man lurched through it. He slammed the door shut and made his way to his station.
“Gunney, how many times do I have to tell you to take it easy on my ship? We just fixed that,” said Pavlovich, not unkindly, to the man’s back.
A raspy voice that sounded like sandpaper being scraped across a microphone responded, “Sorry, Cap’n.”
The cyborg assumed his position inside the alcove.
Kaine caught himself staring and broke off his gaze. He’d never met a cybernetic enhanced person before and only knew of them through his history class. Gunney showed few external signs of his prosthesis, and Hayden couldn’t tell how much of the man was still human. He assumed from the awkward clanking of his gait that his lower body was synthetic and reinforced to military specs. Aside from that, except for the metallic voice and an obvious artificial left eye, he appeared to be an unusually large man.
Pavlovich settled into his command chair. “I believe we are now all present and ready. Initiate the jump, Mister Kaine.”
“Aye, sir. Helm, bring us to full zero motion relative to the light-gate.”
After verifying on his own station that all systems were green, Hayden said, “Awaiting your authorization sequence sir.”
The captain entered the access code on his console.
“Codes accepted by gate control. We are authorized to transit,” said Bates.
“Roger that,” said Cora. “Spinning up light-gate drive. Maximum power available in twenty seconds.” Her eyes were riveted to the redundant console readouts at her station.
Following the requisite delay, she announced, “Drives at full spin. We are go across the board.”
Mindful of all the various rumours about what awaited them on the other side, Hayden swallowed hard and prayed his voice would not crack. “Initiate FTL transit.”
The sensation of a jump was something he had never been able to get used to. The only way he could ever manage to describe it was to say that the world winked out for a moment. A slight dizziness was the only residual effect he experienced.
According to the readings, they were in the Mu Arae system, 100 kilometres from its own light-gate.
“Jump completed, Captain,” he said. “All systems read as normal.” The information was available on their implants, but Pavlovich insisted on verbal confirmation of status.
“Long range scans?”
“Actively scanning, sir. No contacts,” said Bates. Moments later, the pitch of his voice rose. “Correction. Bogie contact, 100,000 kilometres off the port bow.”
The exact coordinates flashed up in Hayden’s implant.
“Identification? Size and vector. Give me something,” said Pavlovich.
“No ID beacon. Configuration: small recon drone. Heading parallels our own.”
“Raiders?” asked Hayden.
The captain nodded. “We’ve seen these things before. Ensign, is it sending out any communications?”
“No comm detected, sir, but I began jamming the moment we spotted her.”
The corners of Pavlovich’s mouth curled upward. “Gunney, I don’t want that thing telling its pals about us.”
“Already on it, Cap’n,” rasped the tactical officer.
Hayden followed on his LINK as the ship’s port bow rail gun array targeted the drone. The firing solution flashed up the same moment the rumbling deck plates told him they’d fired. Seconds later, in concert with his implant readout, Gunney announced, “Target neutralized.”
“Thank you, Tactical. Any further contacts, Mister Bates?”
“None, sir. I’m getting intermittent static on the dorsal stern sensor array, though.”
Pavlovich frowned at Cora.
“I’ll get right on it, Cap’n.” She rose from her station and exited.
“All right, people. So far, nothing out of the ordinary, so either the bogeymen are asleep, or they don’t exist. Deploy proximity drones for maximum coverage.”
He turned to Hayden, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s go see if we can find the scientist Command is so hot about. Set our heading for Dulcinea at best speed.”
“Aye, Captain,” he replied, now fully awake.
