Chapter 6: Traversal
Barnard's Star
There are a few quirks of FV travel that are handy to know. First, momentum is preserved. If you activate a fold vector while doing .1c, you'll come out the other side doing .1c. However, this is only a help and not a hindrance if there is a way to control your exit orientation, too. One of the things the Oolians taught us was that if you activated an FV under the right circumstances, you could determine which way you pointed, coming out the other side. A function of energy levels and distance from the center of the vector itself, a good fold vector navigation system could bounce you almost halfway across the galaxy without any appreciable loss in momentum, zipping from one FV to another, coming out of each one pointed at the next.
Without such an advantage, you could add days or even weeks to a typical journey, as you spent time and precious fuel changing direction, accelerating, and all that.
At that point in our journey, as we coasted through Barnard, I had time to think. There wasn't, after all, much of interest in this system--no significant planetary bodies. Just a red dwarf and a bunch of dusty rocks. Why the Idaltu attached an FV to this system is anyone's guess.
My crew remained understandably edgy. I couldn't blame them. We'd just disobeyed orders from the President of the Terran Alliance--not something for anyone to do lightly, especially when the President happens to be Beatrice Cuerva. All one really needs to understand about her is that her great-uncle started World War III, almost singlehandedly. She inherited his acumen if not his bloodlust, were one to take the Cranion War as a good test of her abilities. She was the one who shifted our policy from a skirmishing defense to a relentless, advancing offensive. We won the war, but that's what worried me. This was a woman who didn't know defeat.
It wasn't that I thought she wted a war with them--all signs pointed to a desire to avoid it, as much as possible. But the gloves had just come off. Our new orders were unequivocal. Through whatever action, the Koraxians initiated an open state of war, and we were sucked right into the middle of it. What choice would the President have, once she realized the extent of the Commander-in-Chief's subterfuge? Legally, he was answerable to her, but got considerable leeway during an immediate crisis. She could get pissed off, replace him, and be set back several months trying to piece together just what happened--or she could bring him in, get a full accounting of his plans, and work them to her advantage.
Whatever moral qualms I had about the whole situation, I preferred the latter option.
Lalande 21185
I didn't even notice, at first, that we'd jumped again. Lalande proved rather quiet. I had Collins bring up a tactical display on the main screen. Merchant ships passed here, there, and everywhere, paying no attention to a lone military vessel just passing through. Based on our acceleration and the distance we needed to cover, I figured it would take about two days to actually reach Nanias. Not as fast as I'd have liked, but better than a week or longer. If there was one strategic advantage to FVs, it was that it leveled the playing field: everybody used them. We all had to live with the same limitations, including traveling across star systems to get to the next one. That meant the earliest the Koraxians could reach Earth--assuming they even know how to get there--was also (roughly) two days. If things went well with our rendezvous, we could hit them back in a hurry, with their attention focused elsewhere. At least, that was my plan.
I had no knowledge of the dissidents' agenda. The information packet from Admiral Sellis, including Jack's attached intel report, didn't give me much to work with. I browsed over it while passing through Lalande. I did learn a few interesting facts about the Koraxians, though. Their civilization had two primary strata: Rationals, who were rather dronelike and possessed no ambitious drive or emotional capacity; and Emotives, who comprised 10% of their population but occupied almost all important positions. Emotives, to say the least, were the interesting ones: motivated, ambitious--and by most accounts, exceedingly cruel--they ran the military, the government, and just about everything else. Korath, their supreme leader, was the ultimate Emotive. The little glimpse of history I got about him, provided from Oolian records, indicated he initiated and fought a multi-front civil war, annihilated his enemies, and took control. All this transpired over 2000 years ago, and he apparently held onto power all that time. I found nothing specific to distinguish whether Koraxians were clinically immortal or simply very long-lived. It probably didn't matter. It sent a small shiver up my spine, though, just the thought of someone living that long, accumulating that much knowledge and power. What if this offensive was the culmination of a thousand years of planning? And here we hadn't even given the Koraxians a significant thought, ever. What possible chance did we have at beating them?
Stagnation. If Korath had allowed his empire to wallow in mediocrity for generations, maybe we had a shot. Let's just say I wasn't about to hold my breath on that point.
Luyten
My vision blurred momentarily, interrupting my reading, and I noticed another jump. Another dead system, notable only for its few trading posts, assembled out of various bits of scrap and technology dumped here over the years. Someone took the time to build a halfway decent space station out of all the junk, an enterprising entrepreneur whose name the Oolians had lost to history.
We called it the Junkyard, which was probably translated as a more pejorative epithet than we intended, but the Oolian proprietor didn't seem to mind. I'd stopped off there quite a few times over the years, mostly when on shore leave. Imagine a smaller, seedier, more alien version of the Dock Plat, and that's the Junkyard.
We didn't have time to stop off and exchange pleasantries today, though. I watched the blip representing the Protector whisk past the patchwork, slapdash establishment. I looked briefly behind me, noticing that Rydia wasn't picking up much comm traffic. The implied silence struck me as eerie. Everyone's too busy rushing off to fight the Koraxians, I thought at the time. I really, really wanted to be wrong.
Teegarden
If you've never heard that name before, I'll wait while you have a chuckle. I know I did, the first time I heard it. But I was 12. What's your excuse?
Another dim, boring main sequencer. I was actually relieved when I noticed the steady stream of personnel emerging onto the bridge--shift change! That meant I could go to bed, Ramsey could cover the gap, and I'd be back on duty in eight hours.
I hoped the rest of our journey to Nanias would be as quiet as the first leg. I leaned toward the Commander. "I'm signing off now. If anything happens, wake me up. And I mean it--don't stand around looking dumbfounded, or try to make a hard decision yourself. There's a hell of a lot hanging in the balance, and I don't want you doing anything rash or irrational."
He grimaced at the perceived (and intended) insult, nodded, and I went on my way. He was too chickenshit to ever say anything about it, anyway. I exited the bridge through one of the small corridors near the comm station, and strolled through the complex toward the elevator cluster. Everyone worked diligently at their stations, and I again appreciated the complexity of my ship. The main computer ran about 90% of everything, and it took this many people to keep the other 10% in working order. Analyzing scanner data, running through tactical simulations, processing our periodic data packets from Stelnet, tracking personnel efficiency and effectiveness--not to mention a bunch of other functions I usually forgot about. They were part of the great machine, and its brain was about to be shut off for a good eight hours.
I smirked at the thought as I stepped into the elevator. You really think you're something, don't you?
Chapter 6
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There are a few quirks of FV
Without such an advantage, you could add days or even weeks to a typical journey, as you spent time and precious fuel changing direction, accelerating, and all that. ('and all that' sounds odd and lazy. I'd consider revising it a little.)
At that point in our journey, as we coasted through Barnard, I had time to think. There wasn't, after all, much of interest in this system--no significant planetary bodies. Just a red dwarf and a bunch of dusty rocks. Why the Idaltu attached an FV to this system is anyone's guess.
My crew remained understandably edgy. I couldn't blame them. We'd just disobeyed orders from the President of the Terran Alliance--not something for anyone to do lightly, especially when the President happens to be Beatrice Cuerva. All one really needs to understand about her is that her great-uncle started World War III, almost singlehandedly. She inherited his acumen if not his bloodlust, were one to take the Cranion War as a good test of her abilities. She was the one who shifted our policy from a skirmishing defense to a relentless, advancing offensive. We won the war, but that's what worried me. This was a woman who didn't know defeat.
It wasn't that I thought she wted (I'm assuming this should be 'wanted'?) a war with them--all signs pointed to a desire to avoid it, as much as possible. But the gloves had just come off. Our new orders were unequivocal. Through whatever action, the Koraxians initiated an open state of war, and we were sucked right into the middle of it. What choice would the President have, once she realized the extent of the Commander-in-Chief's subterfuge? Legally, he was answerable to her, but got considerable leeway during an immediate crisis. She could get pissed off, replace him, and be set back several months trying to piece together just what happened--or she could bring him in, get a full accounting of his plans, and work them to her advantage.
Whatever moral qualms I had about the whole situation, I preferred the latter option.
Lalande 21185
I didn't even notice, at first, that we'd jumped again. Lalande proved rather quiet. I had Collins bring up a tactical display on the main screen. Merchant ships passed here, there, and everywhere, paying no attention to a lone military vessel just passing through. Based on our acceleration and the distance we needed to cover, I figured it would take about two days to actually reach Nanias. Not as fast as I'd have liked, but better than a week or longer. If there was one strategic advantage to FVs, it was that it leveled the playing field: everybody used them. We all had to live with the same limitations, including traveling across star systems to get to the next one. That meant the earliest the Koraxians could reach Earth--assuming they even know how to get there--was also (roughly) (I think 'approximately' woujld work better than 'roughly, here.) two days. If things went well with our rendezvous, we could hit them back in a hurry, with their attention focused elsewhere. At least, that was my plan.
I had no knowledge of the dissidents' agenda. The information packet from Admiral Sellis, including Jack's attached intel report, didn't give me much to work with. I browsed over it while passing through Lalande. I did learn a few interesting facts about the Koraxians, though. Their civilization had two primary strata: Rationals, who were rather dronelike and possessed no ambitious drive or emotional capacity; and Emotives, who comprised 10% of their population but occupied almost all important positions. Emotives, to say the least, were the interesting ones: motivated, ambitious--and by most accounts, exceedingly cruel--they ran the military, the government, and just about everything else. Korath, their supreme leader, was the ultimate Emotive. The little glimpse of history I got about him, provided from Oolian records, indicated he initiated and fought a multi-front civil war, annihilated his enemies, and took control. All this transpired over 2000 years ago, and he apparently held onto power all that time. I found nothing specific to distinguish whether Koraxians were clinically immortal or simply very long-lived. It probably didn't matter. It sent a small shiver up my spine, though, just the thought of someone living that long, accumulating that much knowledge and power. What if this offensive was the culmination of a thousand years of planning? And here we hadn't even given the Koraxians a significant thought, ever. What possible chance did we have at beating them?
Stagnation. If Korath had allowed his empire to wallow in mediocrity for generations, maybe we had a shot. Let's just say I wasn't about to hold my breath on that point.
Luyten
My vision blurred momentarily, interrupting my reading, and I noticed another jump. Another dead system, notable only for its few trading posts, assembled out of various bits of scrap and technology dumped here over the years. Someone took the time to build a halfway decent space station out of all the junk, an enterprising entrepreneur whose name the Oolians had lost to history.
We called it the Junkyard, which was probably translated as a more pejorative epithet than we intended, but the Oolian proprietor didn't seem to mind. I'd stopped off there quite a few times over the years, mostly when on shore leave. Imagine a smaller, seedier, more alien version of the Dock Plat, and that's the Junkyard.
We didn't have time to stop off and exchange pleasantries today, though. I watched the blip representing the Protector whisk past the patchwork, slapdash establishment. I looked briefly behind me, noticing that Rydia wasn't picking up much comm traffic. The implied silence struck me as eerie. Everyone's too busy rushing off to fight the Koraxians, I thought at the time. I really, really wanted to be wrong.
Teegarden
If you've never heard that name before, I'll wait while you have a chuckle. I know I did, the first time I heard it. But I was 12. What's your excuse?
(Hahaa. Nice.)
Another dim, boring main sequencer. I was actually relieved when I noticed the steady stream of personnel emerging onto the bridge--shift change! That meant I could go to bed, Ramsey could cover the gap, and I'd be back on duty in eight hours.
I hoped the rest of our journey to Nanias would be as quiet as the first leg. I leaned toward the Commander. "I'm signing off now. If anything happens, wake me up. And I mean it--don't stand around looking dumbfounded, or try to make a hard decision yourself. There's a hell of a lot hanging in the balance, and I don't want you doing anything rash or irrational."
He grimaced at the perceived (and intended) insult, nodded, and I went on my way. He was too chickenshit to ever say anything about it, anyway. I exited the bridge through one of the small corridors near the comm station, and strolled through the complex toward the elevator cluster. Everyone worked diligently at their stations, and I again appreciated the complexity of my ship. The main computer ran about 90% of everything, and it took this many people to keep the other 10% in working order. Analyzing scanner data, running through tactical simulations, processing our periodic data packets from Stelnet, tracking personnel efficiency and effectiveness--not to mention a bunch of other functions I usually forgot about. They were part of the great machine, and its brain was about to be shut off for a good eight hours.
I smirked at the thought as I stepped into the elevator. You really think you're something, don't you?
Wow, that's irritating. I just discovered that the BB code only works with the American Spelling of 'color'. Grrr.
Honest ...
I have to be here ... had a real hard time reading this chapter. It does not flow and seems superfluous ... I wound up scanning rather than reading ... But, I will move on rather than let it bog me down ...
Yeah, this one was hard to
Not a bad idea ...
Or perhaps ... combine it with the previous chapter and condense ...
"and all that" needs to go.
"and all that" needs to go. It's like you've just taken time to explain some finer points and then you give up on it. You might as well just go "whatever"
Here:
There wasn't, after all, much of interest in this system--no significant planetary bodies.
Lose the "after all", it doesn't need to be there.
And also, same paragraph, after '--no significant planetary bodies' there shouldn't be a full stop, change it to either a --, or a commar.
My crew remained understandably edgy. I couldn't blame them.
That would benefit from an "and" instead of the pause.
In all, this chapter is a lot harder to get through than the preceeding installments. I feel as if you're rambling here, more than delivering the important details.
Another dim, boring main sequencer. I was actually relieved when I noticed the steady stream of personnel emerging onto the bridge--shift change! That meant I could go to bed, Ramsey could cover the gap, and I'd be back on duty in eight hours.
This part is not great, spefically the "--shift change!" part. The exclamation mark is ugly here. Perhaps you could go with something like... "...personnel emerging onto the bridge, signalling the shift change, which meant I could go to bed. Ramsey could..."
That fits so much better than the sudden statement.
I hope you're finding my comments over these first 6 chapters helpful, and not just a random whitering of bullshit.
I'll look at some more chapters tomorrow evening I expect.