The vacuum of Space, well documented as being silent; however, the Void the podship Pioneer 4 trekked was suddenly chatting with interstellar ‘noise’. As if to concur with Commander Capel Perezsire’s recent log entry of “… six hundred and forty rotates since launch…” commenting on such an anomaly, over the saucer-shaped vessel’s communication PA came a series of roars, whistler notes, hisses, even oohs and ahhs.
Every functional piece of communication gear showed the podship test card for a moment, and then broke into a clicking cacophony. All were indicators of something dynamic ahead on the podship’s flight path.
The commander exited the stateroom after making his status report. He made his way round to the utility deck’s lift cage.
The elevator platform leveled with the upper deck. Capel Perezsire moved from the quarterdeck and took a stride forward down the small steps onto the operations pit toward the command apse.
“Report,” he requested of the on-duty crew.
“"It is coming in on every channel. Long-range sensors confirm a magnetosphere-like object,” said Lieutenant Retho Capelsire. The male studied his readouts at the astrogator console as his swift fingers brought up hologram after holographic display. “The object has tripped our primary and secondary sweeps.”
For the most part, familiar static filled the concealed speakers of the flight deck; but every now and then, the crew could hear what sounded like a rising or falling tone. To a more experienced ear, the audio spasms that consisted of peckings and crashings had a more scientific meaning.
“Helm, lock in a course to intercept, maximum Factor.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Retho as his slim fingers plied the circular console. “Course laid in.”
“Initiate.”
Major Nicraan Matasire who occupied the recessed pilot flight chair nodded and made the appropriate touches on his flight board. The background din of the podship’s sound envelope wavered a few octaves up the audio scale. Simultaneously, the bowport was shimmering with accelerated velocity.
Out the forward view a time-matter distortion, which the Pioneer 4 had created, morphed the distant starslight into strange, elongated shapes. A temporary deformation in the topology of spacetime.
As the podship drew deeper and deeper into the hyperspace vortex, the starscape altered in a rush of light strobes before settling back into the homeostasis of faster-than-light.
Satisfied with the podship’s progress, Perezsire turned to glance at Lieutenant Commander Jor Dansire at the tactical station. “Keep an eye on the source as our approach narrows.”
“Yes, sir,” answered the deep-voiced Maddi.
Capel Perezsire stroked his smooth chin and smiled. “Just when I thought this rotate was going to be a slow one. What is our ETA at the phenomenon?”
“Three point six macronodes,” answered Nicraan. He sat intently in the command apse’s recessed pilot chair. His fingers manipulating the flight boards before him.
Before the pilot and the command consoles in the apse was the flight deck’s sectional bowport; centered was a blob of light on the distant starscape. The secret of the alien signals soon to be revealed.
“We are approaching the source of the audio disturbances,” Retho said as he conjured up a long-range visual on the astrogator’s bowl. “The object ranges four hundred and fifty million mets long, buzzing with electrically-charged particles.”
“As we get within a safe distance, slow to one-quarter sublight,” Perezsire ordered.
“Aye, sir,” came Matasire as he tapped in the instructions to his piloting computer.
Both the navigation and helm subsystems started to make prim adjustments to the podship’s velocity and trajectory. The astrogator and the bowport also made changes to their views. On the bowl-shaped presentation platform of the astrogator there came a holographic morphing bubble of broken rainbows, while out the main view a polychromatic windsock seemed to billow in solar winds.
The transparent object had one rounded section facing ‘away’ in one direction, while a ‘tail’ flowed out the other. Yet it was not a benign phenomenon; it was stellarly active.
From the engineering station flight deck fore-port, the podship’s syntheform turned to its superior and reported, “The stellar object is generating up to ten million amps of electrical current.”
“Use caution on approach,” Perezsire said. “That’s one hellu’va powerplant.”
“Aye, sir,” Matasire replied with a nod, adjusting the podship’s propulsion drivers.
The bowport showed the starscape adjusting itself to a more static view. The elongated illumination of hyperspace quickly settled down into a more familiar splattering of pinpoints of lights. The anomaly that had drawn the podship and its crew to this vector was shimmering, coalescing, and glowing soft around its edges across the entire length of the command apse’s bowport.
Medical Commander Dara Lidasiress stepped down from her quarterdeck medstation puzzled. “Capel,” she called out. “What is this? It’s dominating the intercom.”
"We’ll find out soon. Kill the transmission,” Perezsire ordered. “Let's see it close up."
The harsh static concert suddenly stopped. Presentation screens returned to a stand-by readiness. A scan signal pinged.
Resembling a polychromatic cellophane bag caught in a breeze, the misshaped aberrancy immediately became the center of attention for the entire crew. The magnetic ‘coelenterate’ filled the sectional frame as if viewed within a panoramic aquarium. Its structure appeared soft, gelatinous; especially with its umbrella-like body and long, trailing ‘tentacles’. The anomaly’s ‘skin’ appeared covered in chromatophores, which enable the gossamer cloud to change color; a shimmer that resembled oil on water.
“What do you make of it?” asked Perezsire of his science officer.
From the quarterdeck’s science station, its operator Lieutenant Commander Moela Darasiress was studying the spatial anomaly with intuitive interest. Her light-projected monitors were crowded with real-time data that her beautiful eyes locked onto and set her fantastic mind whirling off with algorithms and mathematical calculations.
“It has all the earmarking of being either a magnetic vacuole or a singularity remnant,” she said, her smooth forehead wrinkled with puzzlement.
“Please explain,” Dara asked as she returned to her quarterdeck console.
“Whenever a singularity forms after the collapse of some stars,” Perezsire explained, “in their wake is sometimes left… an …electromagnetic or gravity well residue as the singularity shrinks over eons as Space tries to return to equilibrium.”
“What’s the difference between the two?”
“A magnetic vacuole is the last best attempt of a singularity to maintain itself,” Moela said. “Whereas the singularity remnant is what is left after matter is infinitely compressed to an infinitesimal volume causing the space-time point to collapse in upon itself. Like a scab, but in the fabric of Space,” she explained. The science officer’s trim fingers were working while she spoke, instructing her science computer to manifest an illustration to her narrative. “It’s a way for Nature to maintain a balance. Imagine the surface of a lake settling, following the penetration of a pebble. What we are witnessing is the ripple affect of a tear in space-time between space-normal and hyperspace.”
The commander’s keen eyesight caught the change on the science monitors and studied the displays’ depictions. The holograms underwent a pictorial timeline that was in tandem to Moela’s description.
“The conductivity is giving off visual auroras,” she said, “as the charged particles leak and crash into a pocket atmosphere; it glows. They measure up to twelve hundred mets across.”
The ghostly curtains of charged particles were in reality over a thousand times more powerful than any planetary cousins. Moreover, true to Moela’s report, the kaleidoscopic roiling bubble of energy filled the entire regional ‘sky’.
“Current measurements have these auroras’ moving at lightning speed,” added BeeTee as it stepped to the EVS station, “at ten thousand mets per node.”
“So where did all that noise come from?” asked Dara.
“This magnetic anomaly is a monster,” the automaton replied. Turning to the environmental console’s holosets, the ambient Void presented in three-dimensional splendor. An animated display called out to all hands as BeeTee said, “And, it roars. It continues speaking to us right now.”
“Let’s take all precautions,” Perezsire said, moving away from the quarterdeck and toward the command apse. “Yellow Alert. Shields to maximum.”
Reacting to auto-control, the wall panel lighting shifted from a practical or aesthetic effect to amber. The second highest alert signal status was in affect. It designated a ship-wide state of increased preparedness for possible crisis situations.
“Defense fields are energized,” Dansire informed. “Deflector shields brought to full power. Weapons networks remain on standby status.”
As Matasire went to comply with the commander’s order, Moela was shouting out a warning that came heartbeats too late. “Noooo! Belay that order…” she yelled, pure horror gracing her elfin beauty.
Without warning, an arcing, zigzagging column of pure electrical energy reached out from the misshaped bubble and contacted the podship’s protective flight shields. White light brightened the bowport. Every crewmember felt it like a body blow. Damage control telltales spread like a red rash on the engineering console’s presentation membrane.
“Shields down fifty percent!” shouted Dansire. “Anti-concussion dampeners and gravitational grids are failing. I am losing structural control. None of the overrides are working!”
As the Pioneer 4 recoiled from the contact’s shock wave, a klaxon sounded, piercing the calm of the flight deck. The siren added a harmonic of doom to the situation.
“Red Alert!” boomed Perezsire as he staggered, then fell as the entire podship shook to another giant’s blow. “Evasive sequence beta one three. Report on shields and weaponry.”
A second ‘lightning’ bolt had reached out from the magnetic orb and touched the podship’s wounded protective force fields. The decks of the Pioneer 4 shook to their gamma-wielded rivets. Lights flickered and winked out; spot fires glowed on the engineering station, waveguide circuitry was overloaded. Heat dampener sprayed sending up clouds of foul-smelling fog. The crew not seated was flat on the deck holding on in a sliding smash.
“Shields down to thirty-six percent,” reported Jor after stabilizing himself before the railing integrated tactical console. “Weapon networks are one hundred percent. Some power fluctuations, but minimal damage to crucial networks. However, we cannot sustain another hit.”
Moela had left her station and was careening in to reach past Matasire, hitting the shield-deactivating icon. There was no time to unravel any more of it. From the commander’s perspective, Moela would not have countermanded his order without some good reason. Perezsire’s mind reeled along with the rocking of the deck; time felt askew.
“Weapons networks down!” shouted Dansire. “Shields buckling.”
The instant the podship’s protective bulb of force field energy scaled back, the plasma arcs released their grip of the Pioneer 4. Sparkles of red and then white flame slammed into the podship’s forward deflector fields, jarring the entire saucer, as if in a last try at its destruction.
When the echoing blast died, everyone scrambled to their stations and began doing shipwide diagnostics by the book. Perezsire ignored the sparks that were all around him from various consoles and the acrid smoke that drifted through the air. Atmospheric scrubbers kicked in automatically.
“We’re out of it!” Nicraan’s relieved shout resounded over the sudden-quiet flight deck.
“Auxiliary power!” Capel ordered. “All stations report!”
The stillness of the flight deck was temporary as the magna-panels responded to the crew’s instructions to initialize all reserve systems. The stifled background din was quickly enveloped in the familiar singsong symphony of the podship’s computers and accented by the winking of accompanying indicators.
One by one, the darkened control consoles breathed life back into their instrumentation panels. The once shadowy astrogator flickered with hyperactivity; holographic displays whirling in representation of the external situation.
“Helm control restored, sir,” called Retho.
“Back us off!” Perezsire yelled moving to stand behind the pilot chair.
Matasire was already on it. He got the Pioneer 4 moving from a dead stop in surprisingly quick time. The bowport showed his efforts. The electrical anomaly quickly shrank away. The bubbly windsock was once again a remote light streak against the starmap.
"We have audio contact with Engineering. Video networks gone,” Dansire called out.
"Service Section. Lost all power,” BeeTee reported. “Banks one to eight deactivated. Operating on emergency services.”
“Life Support,” Dara called out. “Overload in two units. Assemblages sealed off. No leaks. Sufficiently operational to maintain breathable internal environment.”
“Nicraan, Jor, check the podship. All networks to made fully operational – top priority,” Capel ordered of his two senior officers before looking over his shoulder at the flight deck’s cybernaut, adding, “BeeTee and Retho, ensure our environment.” Perezsire then turned to face his science officer, waiting; his face was impassive, showing no indication of feeling either contrite or concerned. “Explanation, Moela. Why was my maximum shields order countermanded?”
Moela looked over her shoulder; she was cool and polite as she explained, “Sir, the Pioneer’s redesign increases deflector and shield power by channeling it through the main engines. When we maximized the shield harmonics, it effectively increased their piezo-conductivity and thus attracted the charged electrical particles to arc out of the spatial anomaly’s magnetic envelope. If the harmonics had not been changed, the energy potential in those plasma arcs would have torn the podship apart.”
It was not what Perezsire had expected. He felt chagrined with the realization of what Moela had done. “Then you acted properly, of course.”
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” said Moela.
“You saved the ship,” said Perezsire. “Damage report?”
Jor Dansire approached the commander with a hand-held data pad. “I have preliminary information,” he said. “Since the engineering systems are the source for our shield power, it would appear the damage was targeted at the engineering systems and was restricted by emergency containment fields from spreading to other shipwide systems. All flight deck engineering command functions have been automatically routed to auxiliary control belowdecks – not that the systems there are in any better shape.”
Perezsire frowned and looked at the bowport, which was comfortingly blank of phenomenon. “What is our position now?”
“We are moving away from our previous position at a speed of Factor 2.1,” Retho replied. “With the Pioneer’s current status, that’s the best speed we can achieve. There is a fault in our hyperplasmic drive. I’ll have to power it down within fifteen macronodes or risk a core breech.”
“Stand down from Red Alert,” Capel Perezsire ordered. “Retho, begin scanning for any habitable planet, just in case we have to set down to initiate repairs.”
“Aye, sir,” the lieutenant acknowledged, all the while setting the astrogator’s pallet of hypersensitive gear to work.
After a moment, the noise and flashing legends and lights stopped, but Perezsire still felt like a sapient on high alert. He took a deep breath. He gazed at the mess that was his beloved flight deck and heaved a sigh.
“As soon as we get on our feet, I want a full report on our situation and forecast on repairs,” he added.
“Yes, sir,” Dansire took a deep breath.
A sudden, violent shaking began to rock the flight deck.
“What the duce is going on…”
Perezsire’s mouth fell slack as though he were trying to speak. His words drowned out in a cacophony of shrieks and screams of terror that came from the podship’s crew.
Dara shrank away in fear as the bulkheads and deck continued to shake; her console jumped beneath her violently. The furniture and instruments throughout the flight deck seemed to tilt and run together, as she lost her orientation and crumpled to the floor. From somewhere among the chaotic scene Moela loomed over her, staggering about. Screaming and shouting, the science officer finally fell out of her view.
All around, everyone had become trembling, blurred outlines.
Not only the flight deck was vibrating; the entire podship was. It was shaking apart. It seemed on the verge of breaking up. The deck seemed to spin upside down.
“All personnel assume emergency positions. All personnel assume emergency positions," advised the onboard computer.
Out the bowport, the myriad of stars and galaxies seemed to be shivering. Dara’s lips quivered a little as she stared out the bowport. Retho looked stunned. Moela defied even this disaster to crack her pose of sophisticated indifference. Jor swallowed and stared. Nicraan clamped his jaws tightly, but he had both hands clenched to his flight chair armrests to hide their convulsive movements. Capel’s studied calm was less than convincing. BeeTee paused in its calculations as if in shock. As the crew watched with horrified, pleading expressions on their faces, the view shimmered out of existence.
"What the Novice is going on?" cried out Matasire.
The black pad vanished and the ubiquitous stars that it held blazed out, filling the sectional port with a fierce, mocking brilliance.