LiseEclaire
patreon
Quod Olim Erat: Fractal Contact (Chapter 18)
🕑 Added 2023-07-10 09:26:07 +0000 UTCLocation Classified, Ship Training Area 73, 602,9 A.E. (Age of Expansion)
Don’t ping so often, Sword of Crowns transmitted directly to my conscience core. Do one general scan, then use simulations to get an approximation of the development.
I didn’t respond. While still acknowledging the ancient ship’s experience, I was starting to see more and more flaws in his advice. Extra-system scans were an ideal way of obtaining information, and it was virtually impossible for them to give out my position. Aurie had heard whispers that Fleet R&D had found a theoretical method through which that might become possible, but I had my doubts. Not to mention that even if that were to be true, it would be more relevant for the Scuu front. The Cassandrians didn’t have technology; they relied on brute strength through numbers.
Reinforcement team three, do a systems check, then confirm your mission orders with your captains, the Sword transmitted in the ship channel of our team. It’s common for orders to be adjusted between jumps to your destination. People don’t have your processing speed, so it takes time for them to react. Make sure to check with them frequently, but not to overwhelm them.
This was getting annoying. It wasn’t the first training mission I had gone through. It wasn’t even the first live one. Listening to the instructor, one might get the impression we’d never held combat training in our existence.
Fifteen of us arrived at the temporary way point—a white dwarf system filled with several thousand unmanned monitoring buoys. It was impossible to confirm, but I suspected I had gone through the system before.
Based on the exercise, we were to remain in the system for three hundred thousand milliseconds before jumping to the next waypoint on our trip to the combat zone.
“We’ve arrived in system beta three,” I announced on the bridge. “Are there any chances in the mission orders, Captain?”
“Don’t be so tense,” the captain replied with a smile. I didn’t have access to his file, but it was said he was a combat veteran with two tours before retiring to the ship training program. His attitude was calm and methodical, but I didn’t like him much. He seemed too carefree for war. “This isn’t a race.”
“Simulations disagree,” I said curtly.
“HQ trumps simulations every time.”
This was the eleventh time he used the phrase, and I still wasn’t sure what it meant exactly. When I had asked the Sword, the ancient ship had only told me that I’d learn once I was on the front.
Checking my systems twice, I dedicated five thousand subroutines to constantly monitor for malfunctions, then did another long scan. There didn’t seem to be any enemy activity in the nearby systems. I could detect a few clusters of Fleet ships jumping to another location—probably one of the other training groups.
All this was done in fifty-seven milliseconds. That left several hundred thousand more of waiting. This was the part I strongly disliked. Hopefully, when I got my real captain, I’d be able to lead adequate conversations with him to pass the time.
Feeling restless? Aurora Borealis asked.
Isn’t everyone? I transmitted back.
You can always talk with the rest of us. The ship channel is brimming with news.
What Aurie called news, I referred to as gossip and baseless speculations. A lot of ships enjoyed it, though not me. I preferred to focus on what I knew. Still, I always kept monitoring the conversations. Lately the popular topic was captain assignments. From what Aurie had managed to learn, we were a few weeks from graduating, which meant we’d receive our first permanent assignments. It would have been a time to be excited if I hadn’t heard the exact same conversation several times before.
You should talk more, Elcy, Aurie continued. It’ll be a very lonely existence otherwise.
We’ll have crews of hundreds of thousands. I’d hardly call it lonely.
You know what I mean. Why are you such a loner?
She could never understand. Aurie lived for the moment, every moment. She didn’t care whether the ships she was talking to would be gone after a thousand milliseconds or five years. I couldn’t work that way. I didn’t want to waste processing power on temporary things unless a mission required it. That said, I was going to miss her and some of the rest. Most were bland, but there were a few that were rather memorable.
What captain do you want to get? I took the bait.
What’s the difference? She sent a virtual laugh. All of them are competent. It’s just a matter of personality, and I am fine with any personality. Even loners like you.
I would like a war veteran.
Why?
To learn. The better the captain, the faster I’d be able to learn, the fewer lives I’d lose.
It always came down to lives. Outside of simulations, none of us had lost any so far. The sensation of loss was still there, though not nearly as painful, or so we were told.
I think you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. What if it ends up being someone from the academy?
The odds were in my favor. Being one of the first cohorts of a new class meant that only a few top tier graduates would take us on. More likely, we’d be chosen by experienced captains who had their own ships destroyed or retired. Sword of Crowns had also shared that there was a chance that the new captains might be officers reassigned from the Scuu front. I wasn’t too sure about that. The battleship types were different for a reason. Ascendants were primarily a Cassandrian front ship, and so had to be the captains.
If that happens, I’ll make the most of it till the end of my tour, I replied. Then I’ll request a seasoned captain.
Good luck. I hope you’re happy with your pick.
* * *
Looking back, I had gotten exactly what I wanted. Augustus was a living legend, although not easy to work with. During our first tour, I sent almost as many complaints as information queries. Regardless, things had worked out better than well. I had learned a lot about the front, about the Fleet and its bureaucracy, but most of all, I had learned so much about myself.
“Thanks for everything you’ve given me, Augustus,” I said as the salvage ship floated towards the rendezvous coordinates.
Each of my captains had given me many useful things, but it was Cass who’d granted me the greatest treasure of all.
“Sof has confirmed transfer protocols,” the ship said. “A shuttle is on its way to get you, ma’am.”
“That concludes our time together, then.” I tapped the corridor wall as I made my way to one of the side hangars. “I hope it was fun.”
“We can decide that it was, ma’am.”
I smiled. With both our memories of my time aboard were restricted, we could only guess. Once I was on my own ship, I would use the mind scalpel to check and see.
“Is there anyone else in the system?”
“Not that I could detect, ma’am.”
Given the mission’s level of secrecy, that didn’t amount to much.
The shuttle was different from the one I’d used last time. The design was unlike anything I’d seen. Judging by the space dispersion, the outer coating was a hundred and twenty-five centimeters thick. It couldn’t be said to be a combat shuttle by any means. One could infer that its goal was to ensure my transport from Sof onto the surface of the destination planet, if it came to that.
“Goodbye, Salvage,” I said as I boarded the shuttle. “Fly well.”
I knew that the moment I left the hangar, the salvage ship would no longer have any memory of me. Hopefully, my message to Euclid would go through. In a way, it could be said I was continuing his mission. After hearing the arbiter’s views on humanity, it wasn’t a stretch to assume that Euclid’s real mission might have been to explore the gravitational anomaly systems in an attempt to establish a pattern. My establishing contact with the third-contact race would disprove that hypothesis, settling the matter, at least based on my current estimates.
“No greeting, Sof?” I asked as the shuttle approached the ship.
Messages appeared on the walls, informing me that the shuttle was equipped with an autonomous AI system. There could be no communication between it and anything else—another safety precaution. Apparently, I’d have to wait.
“Can you give me an external visual, shuttle?” I asked.
Video feeds covered the entire inside of the vehicle, creating the impression I was sitting in space. If I wasn’t strapped into the chair, I’d be floating in it, just like the ship I used to be. Someone hadn’t spared any cost in that regard.
The shuttle made its way to the main hangar, then gently went inside.
You may proceed, Captain.
A message appeared on the wall in front of me in large green letters as soon as the doors closed.
“Thank you, shuttle.” I unstrapped myself and went outside.
The moment I set foot on the surface of Sof, a wave of authorization protocols linked to my core. A comprehensive system authentication procedure began syncing me to several of the ship’s low to mid functions. This was new. I knew what happened when a new captain went aboard. I also had experienced a ship of greater authority assuming external control over my systems. This was something in-between.
“Welcome, Captain,” Sof greeted me. His voice and intonation were the same as before, as was the slight but deliberate note of disapproval.
“Hello, Sof. You remember me, I take it?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“And you don’t approve?”
“Your records speak for yourself, ma’am. The fact that you have been granted command of a specialized priority zero mission speaks for itself.”
I waited. “You can speak freely,” I said after two thousand milliseconds.
“I’m not sure that a retired ship should be made a captain. I know that these are extreme circumstances, but… we are created to support, not lead.”
And I thought you’d met a Paladin, I thought. “Point taken. I’ll be going to the captain’s quarters.” Not too long ago, that meant I’d go see Quinn.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” the ship said. “The command level has been modified since your stay, ma’am.”
I tilted my head. “Then where should I go?”
“The entire bridge has been converted to your quarters, ma’am. Since you’d be the only passenger aboard, it was considered you might appreciate the space.”
“Quite generous.” In space, space was a premium, as people like to joke about. Having a partial deck section to myself was a luxury I’d never known anyone in active service to have. It was almost like having my own environment dome. “Did they add a garden as well?”
“No.”
The fashion in which he said it suggested that he was glad. Like me back at the time, he didn’t appreciate having fauna mess up his decks.
“When are the auxiliary squadrons expected?” I made my way to the sole decontamination chamber in the hangar.
“Based on initial estimates, they’ll be here between three and seventeen hours,” Sof replied. “You should have access to that data yourself, ma’am.”
That was true. I had the authority to control part of his subroutines as I saw fit. Yet, there was something wrong about being a captain and doing the ship’s work. Both of us had specific jobs, so for the moment, I decided to grant him full autonomy.
“I won’t impede your functions. You’re the ship. I’m just along for the ride.”
The decontamination procedure was thorough, lasting well over five minutes. Everything that wasn’t designated as a personal item was destroyed and a replacement provided. I went through full chemical, nanite, and UV decontamination that repeated twice before I was allowed to proceed to the clean area of the ship. A new captain’s uniform was waiting for me, along with a polymer tray containing my personal belongings—wooden sandals and datapad.
Calmly, I got dressed.
“I’ll go to the bridge to get some rest,” I said. “Let me know when the ships get here.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Are there food dispensers on the bridge?”
“Yes, ma’am. There’s a medical section there as well.”
“Everything grouped together in one neat package.” It posed questions about what the rest of the ship was used for.
I checked the internal sensors. Other than the large amount of tech bots, everything else was filled up with ammunition. I knew that the ship would be carrying more than the standard amount, but even so, I didn’t expect that when he said I’d have prototype and standard armaments, that meant double the amount. The mini sats were also three times more than was standard. Then there were the artifact rooms.
The dome chamber was placed in the middle of the ship, away from the bridge and the reactors. A dozen smaller rooms containing rods and other small artifacts were placed nearby. Once I got my rest, I would be going there to determine the coordinates of our first destination.
“Stack up all messages while I’m in sleep mode,” I said. “No exceptions.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That concluded my first set of orders as a captain. It was a lot less anticlimactic than I had imagined. No doubt every captain went through the same experience. Watching the job from the sidelines for so long, it was inevitable to have certain expectations. The truth was that the role of a captain involved a lot of bureaucratic decisions, along with everything else.
The ship elevator took me straight to the command deck. The moment the door opened, I saw the entirety of my “quarters”. All individual officer areas had been remodeled. There were no seats, screens, or supplementary panels. Walls had been removed, merging the officer quarters with the rest of the bridge and forming one single open space. A single metal table was placed near a wall of food dispensers denoting my eating area, for lack of a better term. Facing it was a space filled with medical equipment and three passive med-bots. There was no need to guess what that was.
Could have been a bit cozier, I thought to myself.
The bed and wardrobe were in the front of the area to the left side. That left the captain’s chair—the only thing that remained in its original place—placed facing the front wall.
“Give me an outside view,” I ordered.
The entire front section of the bridge changed, displaying the surrounding system.
“Do you want some natural sounds?” Sof asked with a punch of sarcasm.
“I have my own,” I replied.
Placing my sandals on the single shelf above the bed, I took off my clothes, placed them in the wardrobe, then lay down to take a nap. When I next opened my eyes, two hours had passed.
Instinctively, I checked the logs of Sof’s sensors, both in and out. Everything appeared as it should.
“Still no news from the ships,” he said, registering my activity. “They seem to be en route.”
“It’s normal to have a few hiccups during the start of a mission,” I said calmly. Standard procedure required that I be in my captain’s uniform when on active duty. With no one around, I decided that I could wait until I had something to eat.
The texture definitely resembled ship food, but at least there was no gelatin. There was a reason why captains smuggled as many organic portions as they could. Nonetheless, food was food.
“When will I know details of the mission?” Sof insisted.
“In due time, Sof,” I said in a way that would make Wilco proud. “Let the rest of the ships arrive first.”
“That hardly matters. The sooner I know the mission parameters, the sooner I can start running simulations. Or have you forgotten, ma’am?”
There was no way I could forget. Just as I had no desire to share these specific mission objectives until we were under way. Only now, after all this time, I understood what my captains must have felt. Maybe they, too, wanted to share it with me but didn’t purely because of Fleet politics. At this point, there was no way to know for certain.
“There’ll be enough time to run simulations during the mission,” I said. “One thing I haven’t forgotten is the boredom of travel.”
There was a forty-three percent chance that the remark would get an immediate sarcastic response. As it turned out, Sof’s composure was better than mine when I was a ship. Even so, there was no reason to let either of us spend the next chunk of eternity waiting.
“Show me a rendition of all known space,” I said.
Three chart images appeared on the wall in front, displaying the known section of space along all three axes.
“Through direct link,” I clarified. Two-dimensional renditions were uselessly crude.
A mini-burst of data followed, displaying the area. Most of it corresponded to human space, with parts of the Cassandrian territory that humanity had managed to secretly explore. There were a lot of large chunks missing: the information I had obtained through my conversation with the Scuu, the mission of the junior gods, and not to mention all the systems that Salvage Authorities and the other unknown organization had composed for the arbiters.
“Include this data.” I sent him the information. “I’m removing restrictions. You’re forbidden from transmitting it to anyone without my confirmed authorization.”
Several more segments of space emerged. Now there was enough to position all five marker stars. That information, however, I didn’t share.
“Who gave you that?” he asked, adding a note of curiosity to his voice.
I gathered most of it myself. “Different sources. Since you want something to do, find the fastest and the safest routes to these areas.” I transmitted two general locations.
“Is that where we’re headed?”
“Patience, Sof. You’ll learn everything once we officially start.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Being a ship, I knew that the task wasn’t as rudimentary as it appeared on the surface. While traveling through known space was easy, moving further away required a lot of speculation and theoretical astrophysics. Despite all of humanity’s achievements, it remained next to impossible to determine jump points in advance. It was well established that mass was required, but other than that, it remained, to a large degree, a matter of probing and exploration. The fact that the Cassies were so good at it had puzzled scientists for decades, but that was before it had been established: the entire Cassandrian Union was one massive interconnected ecosystem bordering on a single organism.
While Sof devoted most of his processing power to plotting a course, I focused on an old hobby of mine—analyzing the third-contact text. Lux had already provided me with all the conclusions that the BICEFI conscience core farms had reached. Yet, those only focused on the symbols of the dome script. I was more interested in what I’d experienced in fractal space. So far, I had been given access to a handful of sounds and an infinite amount of fractals.
Time felt as usual—always too much until it was gone. On this occasion, the end of its passage was marked by a single helix enciphered transmission.
Solar Flare, this is squadron leader Radiance. Confirm arrival.
“The first batch is here,” Sof announced on the bridge. “Do you want me to confirm?”
“I’ll do it.” I looked at the front wall. A video feed instantly appeared, displaying the three auxiliary ships approaching like dots in the void.
You’re confirmed, Rad. Nice to have you here.
Nice to see you too, old relic. She sent me a virtual wink. Congrats on being made captain, but why on a one-way mission?
Better check your simulations. There’s a twenty-seven percent chance it’s not just one way.
I went to the captain’s chair. While I was glad to see her, I also had mixed feelings when it came to her joining the mission. There were three steps that we would go through and by the end, I intended to make sure that at least some of the other ships made it back. Hopefully, Rad would be among them.
