Osuma’s hand grasped the bottom of the envelope as the other pulled the ‘Please Tear Here’ dotted seal, the envelope opened with a satisfying rip. The envelope is stamped with the standard Fleet insignia’s and warnings, which goes with any official correspondence. Paper orders could only mean one thing to the recipient, a commission.
All orders these days were transferred to digital pads or portable arm devices, via various types of communication software, each with its own purpose, security and urgency. Commission orders were the last of the Mail Delivered Order, normally delivered by a junior officer. The paper order could be retained as keepsake in a family album or mounted on a wall.
“CS Carpathian, oh what the hell!” Yuki Osuma was disappointed with the news. Luckily the junior officer had already left, otherwise he would have been perplexed by the reaction.
Osuma had studied well, gained top marks in his class, excelled in Crew Motivation, Communications and Tactics as well as completing a small technical course in Terra Manipulation. He kissed a few dislikeable senior butts, and made sure he said the appropriate things at the appropriate times.
Osuma had always found it more difficult than his brothers in achieving his goals. He did not have the natural charm and charisma of his younger brother, nor his older brother’s dependable and trustworthy persona. He was not ugly, he was actually quite handsome, but his natural appearance was of a youthful trouble maker, as mother would have politely moulded the words. His thin frame, sharp chin and sleek eyes, actually did have its uses, it was a natural allurement to women, well the ones that liked the bad boy.
“I am a damn taxi driver”
The colony ship Carpathian was a state of the art passenger liner, decked out with Cryogenic pods able to transport 50,000 passengers via interstellar jumps and a travelling range of 78 billion kilometres on its four purpose built Techron fusion drives, as well as being fitted with anti missile defensive capabilities and thick armour, to defeat all but a determined attack. It was not a terrible ship, just not a warship.
Osuma sighed, it could be worse, I could have no assignment. Three years had passed since officer graduation, and most of his fellow classmates have not been given an assignment. With only sixteen ships in the fleet, posting were rare, and commissions were only others dreams.
What truly had stung Osuma’s pride was the fact his younger brother had been given an assignment before him and on a Fleet gunboat. But then again, where is his brother is now?
---
Two weeks and three days, trapped in a tiny holding cell, with five other people. The cell was designed to support one person. Tukama was tired of counting, the scratches marked into the bench, the number of times a person coughed and most of all the hours before he returned to the concrete floor. There was a ‘bench schedule’ everyone would rotate positions in the cell, so only two people suffered the indignation of sharing the cold concrete floor, at any one time. Sleeping or the simple pleasures of a bathroom break without sharing the smell and sounds without people, he would never again take for granted.
Tukama suppressed a chuckle, which raised some eyebrows from a few of his inmates, it could be a lot worse, I am still a naive child. Tukama drifted with his thoughts two weeks prior.
The Chimera and trade delegation’s civilian vessel docking at the Military orbital station, had gone smoothly. The orbital station was not located around Eurlia, but one of the four moons. The communications with the Eurlians, was standard procedure was no hint of deception. After the ship was secured, Tukama met the trade delegation, and together they march down the docking bridge towards the reception area. A gathering of civilian and senior military personnel, and the official honour guard were waiting to greet the delegation.
No sooner had the Osakan Minister for Trade make a polite bow, did we release the honour guard was to become our armed escort. The tap of a ceremonial sword against the boot, was the signal for the honour guard to level their guns in our direction. The shock was instant, and even our normally quick witted security officer, could not flinch in the direction of his sidearm.
The Trade Minister floundered, trying to speak his disgust and surprise at the event. In the end he only resembled a large fish opening and closing his mouth, with few discernable syllables being uttered. A polite and distinguished Erulian in formal attire, spoke a few hushed words to the Trade Minister, before gently guiding the old man away.
Tukama rubbed his face as he pondered, what were those words again, which seemed so inappropriate in the situation. He smiled now remembering “If you please sir, could you follow me to your chamber”. As if the old man had any choice.
Once the Trade Minister had left, a senior fleet officer marched towards Tukama, his small portly stature and redish nose, gave his march a comical appearance, although the situation was far from comical.
“My name is Captain Willem Jord, you are the senior commanding officer, correct” the air of seriousness directed toward Tukama, squashed any hopes, that this was some elaborate practical joke.
“I am Kaigun Shosa Yuki Tukama, what is the meaning of this” Tukama’s voice was calm and controlled, although his heart pounded like a traditional Nihon Taiko drum.
“Shosa Yuki, you and your crew will not resist, you will be taken to a holding cell until such time we can get to the bottom of why Earth has cut us off” Captain Jord was very direct with his wording almost to the point that Tukama was personally responsible for the problems.
At least the Captain is not a complete moron, he understood the Nihon naming convention was family name first. Tukama then tried to summon the correct response, but could not find the words to create a tactical advantage. With a final look around, and a nod of reassurance to his security officer “Captain, I see we have no other choice but to do as you wish. If any member of my crew is harmed, I will see that you are personally held responsible.”
The Captain took a moment to process the meaning, and understood they were not said in a trivial sense “Very well, please give the orders for your crew to lay down their weapons and access to board your craft.”
Those orders were the hardest Tukama had to make, in his short Fleet career.
Tukama snapped back to reality, it was almost time for his scheduled interrogation. The interrogation happened every day, lasted for approximately one hour and been continuous for the last three weeks. The same questions were asked, and the same answers were given. Why did Earth cut off jump access, Is your colony at war with us, why are our probes destroyed the moment they enter the Earth system. He followed these questions with the same answer “I do not know”.
Tukama stroked his fingers down through his hair towards the nape of his neck, and proceeded to massage. No sooner was he given a slight level of satisfaction, before the buzz of the cell door opened. He did not wait for the guard to call his name, instead put both his hands on knees and pushed himself of the bench. As he stepped over a fellow inmate, he hear the cry of ‘Yuki’ from the guard, who was hovering his hand over the cell door button ready to close the instant he made his way out.
Tukama made a brief walk down the various corridors, arriving at interview room where he was seated and restraints applied. The room were spartan, two chairs facing each other, split by a small table. Tukama would often sit alone for 5 to 10 minutes before the integrator entered the room, in that time he would practise the Art of the Praying Mantis. His eyes would pick a spot on the wall and remain perfectly still. This art concentration, gave him an acute awareness of his surroundings and own physical condition, to the point he could hear the mutterings of conversation outside the interview room. In reality it made passing time easier than any nefarious benefit.
Finally Mr Malik entered the room. A casual observer would note nothing particular about him, no special features or distinguishing look, his appearance was very plain. After detail analysis though they would note his clothing, grooming and persona were meticulous, to the point Tukama devoted some of his attention to finding flaws to pass the interrogation time. Rarely did Tukama identify anything, other than a small amount of fluff on his tailored business suit.
Mr Malik slinked into the chair directly opposite Tukama, taking time to arrange his papers and adjusting a recording device. His hands came together infront of him with fingertips touching the opposing finger, in almost a religious praying gesture.
“Shall we start Mr Yuki” the familiarity of the procedure start to irk Tukama, only slightly, but he was able to suppress it with a smile, today he was going to be as calm as a cherry blossum tree, swaying in the breeze.
“Of course Mr Malik, how would you prefer the answer “ I don’t know, today” Tukama followed the line with a smile. For a moment Tukama thought he saw a flicker of frustration in the eyes of Mr Malik, a little win today perhaps I will savour that for later.
“Why has your government conspired with Earth and deny access to our colony and closed the Jump Gate” and so it began.
---
Like all spaceships, George was a She. She was fickle, unpredictable and if neglected would also be your lifelong tomb. But She was Yoshi’s ship and he was truly in love with her.
He stood engrossed with the view out the Digitally Enhanced Bridge Display (DEBD). The window was a combination of a transparent polymer and a layer of cellular based crystals that enabled computerized data to overlay the image. It was the perfect HUD display for a multi crew environment. Each crew member could manipulate the display via their touch based smaller consoles. The data flicked across the DEBD at a high rate of speed.
Yoshi first time on the bridge as a young ensign was embarrassing. He became nauseous from the information overflow and needed a spell in sick bay. The doctor at the time was very reassuring and explained most junior staff entered her establishment within the first couple of days, before they gained their ‘space legs’. Still this made Yoshi feel far from reassured, his pride took a massive hit.
Two hours he had been holding position outside the Grav Well designated 45dx23, waiting for the all clear from the scout vessel. A high level of security surrounded these operations, the strange naming designation, false flight plans and encrypted communiqué back to Osaka. The reason for the security was not because of an alien threat, but from Osaka own civilian mining companies. These companies were ruthless in their pursuit on stripping the galaxy clean, one rock at a time. Honourable conduct always came with a set of scales, and most time the profit gain tipped theses scales.
A visual representation of audio message flickered on the DEBD, from the direction of the Grav Well. Yoshirou eyes drifted across to the communication officer, who had a finger to his ear and intently listening to the message. After a few moments the Ensigns face beamed with excitement “Shosa, the Lucknow sends their compliments, the system is green”.
Yoshi understood the Ensign’s excitement, this was the first time in 40 years that the human race ventured into another system, it was a historical moment. Admittedly the scout frigate was the first into the new system but they would never ventured far from the opposing grav well, whereas the George would venture far into the system, even perhaps eyeball a few planets as they criss crossed looking for other paths out of the system. Future geo survey explorations would capture the public imagination, create a tangible benefits to the civilian enterprises, but those exploration would take time, compared to the mad dash around the outskirts of the system this ship was about to face.
“Lieutenant Kurogane, chouyaku”
Chouyaku is Japanese for jump. Commanders had always been given the right to add their own personal flair when proceeding with this order, but for Yoshirou he preferred the textbook method.
The Lieutenant punch at his console for a moment, the bridge bathed in a deep red hue, as the required safety lights engaged. A hum emanating deep in the bowels of the ship, as the 1000 tonne jump engine, was gaining and storing power. This was in preparation, so the ship could pierce normal space into the gravity well then back into normal space within a micro second.
For those that never had never experienced a jump, did not miss much. The movies from the 20th and 21st Centuries could of not been more wrong. There was no blinding flash, no coloured kaleidoscope, clouds, whirlpools, or watching you body stretch and shrink in unnatural ways. There was only the increasing hum from the engines, followed by a decreasing hum. This followed with your visual cortex readjusting to stars that had changed position. First year chemistry was actually more exciting.
Lieutant Kurogane busied himself at his console, trying to bring back the various sensors and communication data.
Lieutanant Kurogane had recently been assigned as the replacement XO, the previous XO was long overdue for retirement. Kurogane was awkward individual, he possessed neither athletic nor graceful attributes and was rather gangly for someone of average height. His unkempt black hair, resembled a string mop placed upon his cranium. Kurogane did have some endearing traits, his ability to provide fact and figure about the ship, sensor data and the last 50 years of Jeopardy always proved invaluable.
The sensors were realigned within a few minutes and new position information and communication data began to flow. Lieutenant Kurogane had left his console and moved beside Yoshi, who had not moved from his original position.
“Sir, the jump went smoothly no issues to report, all systems are operational, we are ready to proceed to the grid references that have been chartered”
Yoshi clasped his hands behind his back, “Very well Mr Kurogane, please proceed. The Lucknow will hold position for a few days before returning back to New Osaka, so align the information feeds direct to their databases, you can find me in my cabin if you need me” Yoshi about-faced and walk towards his quarters.
Yoshi contemplated what the next month would hold, by then he would have preliminary data, and he hoped more grav wells to explore, which was the main purpose of the expedition.
