Ch. 5 Pt. 3

[kriadydragon]

“You got here just in time, captain,” Kerry said. Two halls and an elevator ride had brought them straight to the heart of the outpost, literally. They were in the command center that was wall to wall view screens and com consoles. Outposts were beacons, havens of communication, forever keeping in touch with UTD ships and colonized planets. The screens altered between maps of solar systems, grids of solar systems, specific planets, readings, diagnostics, incoming communiques and on and on. Every console was manned, and if someone wasn't sitting then they were moving from station to station. In the center was the largest of the consoles, circular, with a holograph of a planet the spitting image of mars, except more red striated with gray and black. The console was run my a mix of humans and the waist-high, long-necked ermine looking beings known as Mriks. Mriks came in an assortment of colors (Jace swore he saw a pink one once) but were mostly either gray, blue, or yellow-orange in color. They were docile creatures with a lot of pent up energy they knew how to utilize. They were in constant motion. Their long bodies could be still, but their prehensile tails were always twitching.

Kerry indicated the image of the red planet with a quick gesture. “Your first assignment. I know you just got here, but the Void 'don't like to wait', and the UTD wouldn't send anyone else since you guys were already coming. I know there's a logical reason for protocol but it's a pain in the butt. There's no such thing as overreacting, not out here.”

Jace arched an eyebrow. Dallas definitely didn't waste time. When Kerry reached the console, she clasped a light blue Mrik dressed in a gray unisuit on the shoulder. The Mrik twisted around, twitching it's tiny nose.

“Captain, this is Minikt. Minikt, the crew of the Black Dragon.”

Minikt's nose twitched again, and he bowed. “Please to meet you.”

Kerry gave Minikt a light pat on the back. “Minikt here is your encyclopedia of Void worlds... As far as we know of them. Research is still pending on most worlds and other worlds have yet to get even an atmospheric survey. Even if a planet hasn't been surveyed, all you need to do is run an atmospheric diagnostic, send the readings to Minikt here, and he'll give you to an accurate weather forecast and tell you whether or not your ship will fall apart on entering the atmosphere.”

Minikt grinned flashing a mouth full of tiny, sharp teeth.

Kerry moved around to the other side of the console and began manipulating the controls. “Qitorri? Where the hell are you?”

Jace managed to hold back a flinch when a dark, copper Osek came bounding, seemingly, out of nowhere to skid to a halt beside Kerry and rise up sinuous as a cobra onto its hind legs. Jace had worked with plenty Oseks and found them relatively easy to get along with once you got used to them. They had a tendency to come across as creepy before then.

This Osek was dressed in a gray tech unisuit, and beneath that emerging from the sleeves and pant cuffs was the skeletal harness of a cerebral interface, the kind normally warn by the quadriplegic to help them walk. They were also used by obsessive techs to connect with computers systems for a one-on-one diagnostic and repair involving nothing but brain power. It wasn't an encouraged practice as it was said to fry the brain if one didn't maintain perfect mental control. Even if one did, it was still risky business that sported quite a few side effects. There was an unsettling look in this Osek's pale red eyes that told Jace the harness wasn't being warn because the Osek was crippled.

“Rerouting,” the Osek rasped (all Oseks had a kind of hissing quality to their voices), “like you asked. Tower four is still experiencing fluctuations.”

“Don't worry about the fluctuations. We're used to the fluctuations now. Kowalski doesn't get that. Thus my constant insistence that you tell him where he can shove his 'itinerary of repairs' the next time he thrusts it in your face. Right now we need to bring up the ambient grid.”

The Osek began manipulating controls right along side Kerry. “Why, has there been another pulse?”

“No. Our newly established patrol crew's just arrived. Qitorri, the crew, the crew, Qitorri.”

Qittori's head popped up like a startled bird and twitched to each face comprising the Black Dragon crew. He suddenly broke into a wide grin and snapped his head around at Kerry, bobbing like an excited kid. “Oh, oh, you tell them yet?”

“No. That's why I needed you here.”

The red planet vanished. Replacing it was an aquamarine plane that spiked with jagged peaks stretching through the entire prismatic spectrum. Readouts scrolled up on either side of the plane, measurements like what might be seen on a seismograph as well as a spectrograph. Sound waves, energy waves, as though this station were listening to everything this region of space had to offer, which was what most stations did. But this was being taken in all at once rather than separately for individual study. Jace had a good grasp of intercepted communications, and ion fields that could wreak havoc with equipment, but the everything else was beyond him.

Qitorri stood his full height and spread his arms out wide. “I am most pleased to introduce you to our little pet anomaly – the Ambient. It is neither sound nor energy, but seems to involve a heaping helping of both. It appears to do nothing more than exist, but will pulse and fluctuate for reasons we have yet to discover, and at unpredictable intervals. It is nothing to fear as it has yet to cause any technical problems. It is, however, what sets the borders of this sector of space deemed 'the Void'. All within the Ambient is a part of the Void.”

Show boating was an honest to goodness Osek trait. They were good at what they did, and did everything with a flourish.

“It's been studied since this station was established,” Kerry jumped in, “and we still have no idea what it is. At most we hypothesize that its some sort of massive energy field, like a shield or cloak. Except, as Qitorri said, it hasn't messed with any of our equipment. In fact it hasn't 'messed' with anything. Not climates on planets, not the corona of suns. The Ambient can be measured in terms of sound at decibels either too high or too low for anything to hear, energy waves, even in terms of colors though we can't see it. It's like...” Kerry shrugged helplessly. “Personally I have no idea what it's like. Some theorize that it's an energy existing on another plane, but bleeding into our existence.”

Cpt. Gale looked back down at the console and typed. The visual representation of this Ambient vanished. Next came a grid mapping out the Void territory. Jace knew these maps, and how each white dot represented a solar system. There were many, about thirty in all. What really got his attention was how the 3-D grid faded to black in the center as though an immeasurable black hole dominated.

“We'll be downloading this map to your navigation. Pay special attention to the heart of our realm – the real Void.” Kerry typed and a slightly opaque but still transparent circle enclosed several inches out from the dark center. “Pay closer attention to the boundary set by this circle.” Readings scrolled up - distances and the like. “That sector of space is to be avoided at all cost. You so much as get a garbled message for help coming from anywhere beyond that boundary, you ignore it. I know that's harsh but every ship that's listened to those calls and crossed the border never returned – ever. Same with the ships sent to rescue them. Took the UTD long enough but they finally okayed our petition to mark that sector as completely off limits. And by that I also mean that if you end up chasing a Murek transport into that sector, you basically just defeated them so no reason to proceed.”

“The Ambient,” Qitorri said, “grows stronger toward that sector. Obviously there is a connection. But the Void is too dangerous to warrant further exploration.”

Izzy raised his hand. “So what you're saying in a nut shell is – we stay away from that particular area and everything's cool?”

Kerry gave him a sharp nod. “Exactly. We can't even send in a probe without it vanishing. The most we've managed to ascertain is a few seconds worth of input telling us about the kind of gravitational pull normally associated with solar systems. Nothing yet resembling a black hole, but the probes never get very far.”

Jace raised both eyebrows. So that was it: the big bad scary wolf that made the Void the urban legend that it was. Putting a form to the thing, even if the form was nothing more than energy readings and set boundaries, was like putting a face to the enemy. Avoid this enemy and the Void won't grab you after all. Giving form and substance to something feared usually made that something less frightening. True enough in the immediate case. Yet instead of feeling slightly relieved that part of surviving the Void meant no trespassing into the literal heart of darkness, Jace felt incredibly wary.

That little black cloud of sector was giving off readings, and nothing freaked a UTD officer out more than something giving off readings. Mostly when it was some supposedly dead robot, but having an entire sector pulsing with waves that sounded almost like they were alive was a hell of a lot creepier; like facing the biggest, baddest robot of them all.

Jace shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his gaze to Kerry. “So this planet that's our first assignment...”

There was typing, and Mar's ugly twin sister reappeared.

“Designation 4711B. Christened Anktorri – red sand in Mrikt. A science outpost was established two years back. About three days ago we lost communications with them.” Kerry smirked. “And we tend to give into paranoia around these parts.” Then she immediately dropped the smile. “Three days might not seem like a big deal elsewhere, but we've already established one day of lost communications as bad enough. We're past worry to being impatient and pissed.”

“Do you know what the scientists there were studying?”

“System of underground caves and the local culture. Group of cave dwellers, said to be shy but friendly. The last we heard, these cave dwellers were planning to make a permanent move underground. The team isn't sure why as they can barely communicate with the locals. They've been working with the locals for two years without a hitch, but I wouldn't rule them out either.”

“Have you had problems with locals on other worlds?” Jace asked next.

Kerry turned her head toward him. “There haven't been too many locals to run into, and a lot of the outposts haven't run as long as the one on Anktorri. Just touch and go stuff. People get antsy after a while, especially those trying to set up shop closer to the Void. Anktorri is in a solar system just within the range of the Ambient, so the scientists there have lasted longer; until now, apparently.”

“Guess that means there's not a lot of settlements,” Al commented.

“There are a few,” Kerry replied. “Most in solar systems positioned like Anktorri's solar system – barely within the Ambient. The one you'll want to get most acquainted with is Dural, a refueling town with a few scattered settlements. Then there's Jakoress. Nice bunch of people who refuse to leave the planet. Ships are only allowed if they're not going to stick around. If you ever plan to settle there then kiss every other planet goodbye. They make you sign a waver promising you'll never set foot off world. For that reason, no one settles there, and everyone there was born there. The settlement's been around long enough for the original settlers to have died off except for two, or so I heard. They're big on trade. You need some food, clothes mended or the like, all you need is a music or movie chip. They may not leave the planet but they're still caught up on current affairs.”

“Why don't they leave the planet?” Matt asked.

Kerry shrugged. “Superstition, I guess. They're kind of cryptic about it. Other than Dural and Jakoress, you won't be running into a lot of permanent settlements. There are a few groups trying to establish something on other worlds, but the most they last is a year.”

Kerry leaned forward, resting her hands flat on the console's edge. “All the details are being downloaded into your ship's systems now. Any other questions?”

Jace felt he knew all he needed to know. He glanced around at the rest of his crew giving them the non-verbal go ahead to ask away. No one did; just either shook their head or shrugged. Kerry gave them a sharp nod.

“All right then. I know this is sudden but your departure is in five hours. Enough time to get to know the place. I'd suggest you do so. Your ship may be you home away from home, but it's a mobile home, and we're your one and only body shop.”

-------------------------------

Dallas outpost wasn't bad as most outposts went. You had some outposts that were slap together, last minute stations forced into existence by necessity, and outposts planned out and built with care and detail, remaining for the long haul. Dallas was somewhere in between, close to snazzy but not all that spectacular. Everyone, guests included, were allow individual apartments; not rooms, actual apartments, complete with living rooms and kitchens. Jace and the crew had been allowed a look-see of one of the guest establishments. They were all in agreement that it made military barracks look like sleazy motel rooms.

There were two medium theaters for movie nights, but by the time the new flicks reached Dallas they were already a year old. There was a rec-room full of computers for Net access and computer games, hands-on games like ping-pong and air hockey, and a mini-library and video store. Not to far away was the gym that boated two basketball courts, a tennis court, and a pool. Jace liked Dallas' convenient store. It actually had some pretty useful stuff beyond canned sausages and beef jerky. The freezer at the back had lobster, actual lobster still in the shell, though granted it had probably been freeze-dried frozen rather than buried in plain ice. The stuff still cost an arm and a leg.

There were three fast food joints – pizza, tex-mex, and a burger joint – and one more high-end establishment that most of the more well-worn and well built outposts came with. It was a place to hold celebrations, weddings, etc. Right now, as Jace walked in after having given his crew the go-ahead to wander at their will, the place was empty. And it was a nice place, with circular tables covered in crisp, beige table cloths, plastic plants, paintings of scenic Earth landscapes in gilded wooden frames, and a bar at the other end between the two polished oak doors leading to the kitchen.

Kerry was sitting at the half-circle counter, tapping a fingernail against her glass of soda. All outposts were dry. The closest any got to an actual alcoholic drink was a virgin dakari, because emergencies and alcohol didn't mix. The only way anyone on an outpost could get truly hammered was by leaving the outpost for a planet-side vacation. Other than that, the bars were to provide the illusion of allowing someone to drown their woes in chemically altered liquids.

The lack of drinks wasn't what bugged Jace about outposts; it was the people moaning and pining about the lack of drinks. Jace could never sympathize. Number one: he wasn't a heavy drinker, and had yet to ever get drunk. Buzzed, maybe, probably twice a year, but never beyond. Life was unpredictable and chaotic enough to risk lowering inhibitions even a fraction. Number two: in terms of health, it was for the best. These people would never fully realize how much their liver's appreciated these enforced no-alcohol laws. They were too busy woeing over not being able to drown their woes.

Jace dropped into the stool next to Cpt. Gale, who had an umbrella in her drink.

“I'll take a sugar high to having my ass chewed up and spit out over an elevated blood/alcohol level any day,” he said.

Kerry looked at him flatly, only to shift to mild amusement on shifting back at her drink. Jace could tell from the color and smell that it was probably a Coke, minus the rum.

“If you'd said that a year ago, I'd probably have punched you in the face,” she said.

“And now?”

Kerry shrugged and set her drink back down. “I'm agreeing with you. I haven't had a drink in four months. And you know what?” She looked over at him and smiled. “Haven't missed it.”

“Social drinker?”

She shrugged again. “Not for four months.” She finished off the rest of her soda in three swallows, set the glass down, then nudged it away with the tips of her fingers. “We're a paranoid bunch, Captain. We like to be alert, aware. Alcohol kind of does the opposite. It's gotten so most of us like to stay on our toes even when we're lying supine on a beach somewhere.”

Jace nodded in silent understanding. Although he had a slightly differing opinion. He idly scratched the back of his neck. “I always felt drinking was like giving into something. Not social drinking, that's kind of more a 'peer pressure/don't wanna be left out of the party' thing.”

Kerry grinned at that.

“But drinking until you can't tell up from down and you're kissing everyone in the room despite gender – not my experience, for the record, I've just seen it is all – that's always struck me as kind of dangerous, and I'm not just talking when you get behind a wheel.”

Both Kerry's eyebrows arched to her hairline. “Fellow paranoid?”

Now it was Jace doing the shrugging. “I guess that's what it is. I don't like anything that messes with my head unless it's a sleeping pill and I'm going to bed.” He glanced around the empty room, leaning over the counter in search of the bartender. “Gee, lively joint.”

“Rick's in back filling up the malt machines. Besides paranoid, we're also old fashioned.”

Jace dropped back into his seat, grinning like a kid. “I love malt sodas.”

“Rick knows how to make them. Just wait a bit, he'll be around.”

They both fell silent, Kerry apparently pondering, and Jace just waiting. He'd done enough thinking for the day in terms of “holy crap, I'm in the Void, and it's only day one”. He was still feeling the combination shock coupled with the denial that kept insisting it was just another quadrant like any other quadrant. It was a feeling that kept him tense, wary, like when he knew something was coming but it would still be a while before it came. It wasn't all consuming in a way that left him with his leg bouncing to siphon off some tension – that had come during the journey to Dallas, then vanished on arrival. He was here, nothing to be done about it, so he part accepted it and part looked at it askance and with a lot of mistrust.

He was ready since he had to be, but wasn't stupid as to be cocky about it. A part of him was still a little afraid, like riding a roller coaster for the first time and about to crest the top before the drop.

“Captain?”

Jace looked over at Gale who had reclaimed her glass to slide it back and forth between her hands.

“Don't take this inquiry the wrong way but...” she stopped playing catch with her glass to look Jace right in the eyes, “please tell me you didn't choose this quadrant just because it came with a wicked bad ship.”

Jace almost laughed, but composed himself quickly enough for an apologetic scrunch of his face. “It certainly made the job a lot more appealing.” He relaxed. “I didn't really choose it, I was called to it and said yes. And though having the command of a phantom sweetened the deal, I said yes because I'm a firm believer in someone having to do the jobs no one else wants.”

Kerry didn't react to that, keeping her expression neutral. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Kerry looked him up and down, searching, hoping to find the lie or false bravado. Jace didn't hide anything from her. He was nervous, yes, but resolved. He was ready, but the constant tension was going to wreak havoc on his spine.

Kerry's brow furrowed. “You're either desperate, insane, or have a death wish.”

“If I had a death wish, I'd be dead by now. I've had an uncomfortable one too many encounters with psychologists who're still watching me like hawks, but I've yet to be slapped into a straight jacket. And though flying a phantom is awesome, I was pretty content in my last job not to go giddy and brainless over the chance to command.”

“So what does that leave?”

Jace sighed slowly and looked down at the counter top. “You can't just accept that I'm doing this because someone has to?”

“Humor me. I've been out here a long time. Though I haven't really seen anything that would make me question the safety of this territory, we get plenty of radio feed, so I've heard things. I've heard crews slowly succumb to some kind of inexplicable madness that takes them straight to the heart of this quadrant. I've heard non-stop chatter from rescue ships go suddenly dead. I've had to interview scientists and colonists on the reasons for their sudden need to pack up and leave, and get answers concerning never-ending bad dreams and unsavory gut feelings.” Kerry shook her head and chuckled ruefully. “Sorry... I've now just had the epiphany that my remark is premature. I'll bring it up again if you remain here for four months and refuse to leave.” She held up a finger. “Big 'if', keep in mind. Nothing against you.”

Jace just nodded. He didn't take her words into offense. He did take them as a warning; another version of the same warning, actually. He would take it all to heart, but only experience was going to hammer the portents home. If things boiled down to being too dangerous to stick around, then he wouldn't stick around for the sake of his crew. He just hoped it didn't come down to that.

Kerry swiveled around in her seat to face Jace full-on. “Listen, Captain, I'm not trying to scare you away. Heaven forbid, actually, because we really need a patrol out here. At most, all you'll be doing is listening in on the waves and chasing off anyone trying get too close to the Void. At worst, you'll be running into some very pushy and persistent Mureks. But chances are good you're going to run into some pretty heavy weird out there, because something's freaking people out. You have the right to leave if you feel it unsafe for a patrol, but I'm going to prematurely beg that you don't. Stick to the shallows of the Ambient if it helps, call in for a second patrol ship. Just...” Kerry turned suddenly desperate. “This quadrant doesn't play nice. We need all the help we can get.”

Jace lifted his hands. “You got it.”

Kerry snorted derisively. “Say that after your first mission.”

Type your cut contents here.

Comments

[titan5.livejournal.com]

Please tell me you'll finish this some day because I love the characters and their ship and their mission. If I had money, I'd pay you to finish it. This is seriously better than lots of books I paid for.

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Oh, I definitely plan to finish it... as soon as I figure out how. But what you've read you should just put out of your mind right now and pretend you never read it. I did a total rewrite and changed everything, hopefully for the better. What I've done so far in the rewrite I like, but it's the rest of the plot I'm having trouble with.

This story is to be a series - kind of like the Dresden files, only sci-fi - so of course the first book needs to have one heck of a start to get people into it. The plot I originally had in mind, I think, would've (and still might, for all I know) work but there's something about the later half of the plot - something I can't put my finger on - that isn't working for me. For that reason the story's kind of stalled.

But I really want to write this story as I already love the characters, and feel it has great potential. For now, it could be that I just need to write other things before diving into this particular series, or that I need to do something totally different for the later half of the plot. Which ever the case, I'll figure it out eventually. I refuse to leave this story unifinished ;)

[titan5.livejournal.com]

I can wait as long as I know there will be more. I just really LOVE all the characters!! A series would be totally awesome.

Oh, and just so you know, I hate you. It's past midnight on my night to go to bed early and I'm still reading a certain book. To make things worse, it looks like I need to go find the kleenex. I feel a great need to hug a certain little boy.