Muffled tones of a chipper trumpet song bleated through the elevator’s speakers. Paired from the constant high whine of the elevator’s triplicate motors, it was all quite obnoxious to listen to.
He glanced down at his tablet, provisioned by Stardust Cruises to manage his ship.
Stardust Industries Orca Liner SK-9916
Pilot: CMDR Ashton Caltrice
Ship Class: Passenger Transport
Passengers: 19
Cruise Destination: Coalsack Line
Status: Enroute to Litralia City, 15:29 Remaining
He watched as the arrival timer ticked down, second by second.
The tinny trumpet continued to grate his ears. He was sure that he heard this part of the song before.
His body slightly swayed as the elevator changed directions.
He opened the cargo view on his tablet. A visualization of his ship’s storage appeared, alongside a description of what each cargo hold was filled with. The majority of his cargo was emergency food supply, lasting at least a few weeks for himself and his passengers. The remainder was normal, pre-cooked and pre-prepared food supplies for the duration of the trip.
Finally, the elevator slowed to a harsh stop. He adjusted his stance to not be thrown off his feet.
The doubled elevator doors slid apart with segmented clunks. A small loading dock in front of him, covered on four sides, opened into an expanse of a room, unabashedly lined with pipes, bare metal, and suspended walkways. Even the banquet hall he was in not a day before would compare to the size of this cargo bay. Holographic advertisements for ships or personal weapons lined each long wall, and various, smaller bays led into maintenance areas for the starport’s staff to access.
Toward his left, the hangar extended further, cutting out into a cylindrical area. It served as the elevator for any massive ship docked here, extending upward onto the landing pad for departure, and downward into deep storage.
At present, striped barricades lined the end of the loading dock, dropping down into an inhospitable nest of exposed wires, magnet coils, and oil-slicked tracks.
“I trust you’ll pilot us well, Ashton?”
He glanced behind him. He hadn’t noticed Percy, sat to the side of the loading area, holding a tablet much like his own.
“Mr. Graham. I suspect you’re not here to send me off?”
“No, I’m not.” He stood and joined Ashton by the barricade. He smiled at him, like he always did. “I’ll be cooking for your passengers during this trip.”
“Cooking?” His eyes widened, half from pleasent surprise and from unpleasant surprise. “I’m surprised my father hadn’t made me aware.”
“He left me to make my introductions.”
“Right…” he wanted to be frustrated for not being told in advance, but he was happy to accept the help. It made sense that someone needed to prepare meals for the passengers, yet the thought hadn’t yet crossed his mind. The 'mind of an entrepreneur,' he supposed. He paused before he continued, slower now. “For security, I assume?”
“Partially. Your father wanted to ensure your safety, and Stardust needed meals prepared. Your father worked with Stardust to put me to the task.”
His gaze flitted to the empty bay. "And you were alright with being told to go on a two-week cruise?"
His smile faded slightly, and he pushed out a curt sigh, as if he expected the question. "What I'm alright with isn't a part of this."
"But shouldn't it?"
"I'm here to pay off a debt, Ashton. You know your father treats me well. Better than most."
He spoke with finality, despite how much Ashton wanted to fight for him.
A small part of him knew a man shouldn’t own another.
Sha-shunk! Whirrrr…..
The landing pad, once sealed at the top of the elevator, began to lower down to the storage bay's level, carrying upon it Ashton's ship. It was an instantly recognizable design. A sleek, perfectly white body stood out against the dark steel bay, black glass panelled across the side, doming the front and tops of the ship. It was easy to understand how the craft got its name, given the large patches of black glass and white body. Four fins at the front and back housed stabilizing thrusters for quick rolls and pitches.
Before entering the bay, the landing pad spun, pointing the ship away from Ashton, revealing the purpose of the cylindrical shape. From here, its large, man-sized thrusters were in full view, as well as the bright orange heatsinks situated at its stern, held behind a protective, heat-treated glass.
The landing pad backed into position, occasionally making a bump upwards against an alignment coil below.
When it finally backed fully into the storage bay, it came to rest, large teeth locking the pad into place.
Hshhhhhh….
The hydraulics released. Just then, one of the advertisement screens flipped.
Saud Krueger. The finest, for the best.
The bright orange heatsinks drowned into black as the ship's engines died down. A small ramp on the underbelly folded down, minuscule in comparison to the ship.
A ping drew his attention to the tablet. A small notification slid in from the corner. Your Orca has arrived at Litralia City.
The ship, as organic and flowing as the exterior was, had a surprisingly modular design inside. Components, cabins, and storage areas were sectioned into clear, rectangular divisions within the ship. The arterial hallways of the ship ran in ovals, and spanned three floors. Each floor had a miniature storage area for easy access to emergency items, food, and water. The rearmost hallway of each floor led to a different part of the ship's most precious components: the forward thrusters, power distributor, and the frame shift drive.
A millennia ago, the thought that man could traverse the stars was only a dream. Something that people would research for decades, yet never got to see for themselves. He had read through preserved documents that were once in a humanity-wide "internet"—something that humanity quickly outgrew, as consistent wireless connections were impossible across light year distances—about miniaturized simulations of the universe. People, from their own home on earth, contributed to a secondary universe that they could travel through, much like commanders could today. A thousand years ago, people could only simulate and theorize star travel. Now, the technology can be utilized just as easily as an aircraft was back then.
The doors slid apart, revealing the seat reserved exclusively for himself, permanently in a half-reclined position, with foot rests to keep the user elevated. Attached to the right side of the seat was a flight stick, with buttons and dials peppered across the top and the base. Most prominent was a trigger at the back and a hinge-shielded button, clearly marked for offensive equipment.
At the left side, a throttle ran through the whole armrest, with a panel extending to the right, showing the power draw of each core component on the ship.
He fished his license key out of his pocket and waved it over the dash, just as he did on test day.
Hologram panels around his cockpit spun to life with a deep orange hue, anchored firm onto the front glass. The radar at the center winked to life first. The small circle hovered only a few inches off the center console, already populating with ships hovering around the starport. They were marked with tiny cubes hovering above or below the radar, visualizing the three-dimensional space around the ship. A throttle bar to the right of the radar appeared soon after, with a 0 at the far end, displaying the ship's velocity. The communications panel attached at the top of his cockpit displayed a line-by-line log of flight communications on the personal, local, and system levels. The last hologram to turn on was the weapons system. The statuses for four point defense turrets were docked at the far right of his view, showing that each were prepared to protect the ship from incoming rockets, ballasts and plasma blasts. Finally, he glanced at the panels at his right and left, both configuration panels for his ship on the internal and external level, respectively. Each turned on as he looked at them, automatically flicking off when he turned his attention away.
As he looked to the right panel, six small ranks appeared on the left side of the panel, showing Commander Ashton's skill and experience in each area.
Combat Rank: Harmless
Explorer Rank: Aimless
Trade Rank: Penniless
CQC Rank: Helpless
Mercenary Rank: Defenseless
Exobiologist Rank: Directionless
"Greetings Commander." A light, yet punctuated voice poked out from his flight suit's embedded speakers. "This is COVAS Verity, your cockpit voice assistant, installed to provide systems information and analytical support throughout your cruise. While standard COVAS systems assist the pilot, my features have been extended to provide in-flight entertainment, ship status, and safety protocols to your passengers automatically." A short positive chime sounded, just moments after she finished. "All self-test results have returned positive. Your ship is ready for flight. Your passengers have been notified, and will be entering the cargo bay soon."
The heavy use of automation within Stardust Cruises was a welcome. He knew of companies that asked their pilots to provide tourist information simultaneously with flight. Ashton knew he still wasn't quite ready for that amount of multi-tasking just yet. Perhaps someday he would be able to.
He made sure to personally welcome each of them at the cargo ramp. They seemed to be four families, each on a sightseeing vacation of their own accord. Incidentally, his introductions caused a few of his passengers to make introductions to each other.
He climbed back into the Captain’s chair, and ensured everything was ready for takeoff. As he read in the protocols guide, he was to first signal to the Stardust Cruises coordinators, then to flight control for takeoff.
With a glance upward at the window, he put the communications window in focus. Controlling the window with the flight stick's face buttons, he opened a direct message with the coordinator.
As he spoke, his words were transcribed into the message. "Coordinator, this is…" he glanced toward his right panel, confirming the ship's ID. "SK-9916, taking off from Litralia City enroute to the Coalsack."
He waited for a response. The ship's engines hummed idly. His response popped in.
"SK-9916, takeoff received. Sending navigation route now. Good luck, commander."
Just a moment later, COVAS Verity spoke sharply. "Navigation route received."
A holographic panel flickered on when Ashton looked to his left. Here he could access navigation details, and contact other ships and stations. At the top, his route details were displayed.
Current System: Thereila ⟶ Next Jump: HR 7221 ⟶ 39 Jumps: Musca Dark Region PJ-P B6-1 (498.61 LY)
While most ships could make that distance in a few hours' time, the schedule dictated that they could only make a few jumps every day. Hyperspace jumps make violent lurches that less accustomed passengers weren't used to. On a cursory glance of the schedule on his tablet, he had noted that most of the dead time was spent either passively orbiting a planet or fuel scooping from a viable star.
COVAS continued. "The ship itinerary was successfully uploaded from your datapad. Hands free schedule reminders are offered by default, and may be disabled within the ship functions menu."
He left the reminders enabled. "Verity, what's today's schedule?"
"The schedule for the next twenty-four hours is as follows: four hyperspace jumps from 1500 to 1600 UTC, then refueling at a starport, followed by a six-hour departure period for passengers. The ship will remain at the station during the designated night hours from 2500 to 1030. Departure will take place at 1100, at the latest. This schedule will repeat in the same fashion, with some days instead docking at a starport, or spending night hours refeuling instead. You will be notified of any schedule abnormalities at least twenty-four hours before they are to occur."
Another positive bling sounded out. "All passengers are accounted for, and have been directed to their designated rooms. This ship is now ready for departure.”
This COVAS variant seemed far more helpful than the Pilot's Federation's model.
He tuned his voice transmitter to the station’s frequency. “Flight control, this is Sierra Kilo Niner-Niner-One-Six requesting permission to depart.”
Flight control’s response came much shorter. “Sierra Kilo Niner, request approved. Safe travels, commander.”
With a sharp jolt, the landing pad's holds disengaged. Carrying the ship, the pad rumbled forward onto the elevator, which then brought it upward, ready for deployment. The magnetic hold on the ship's landing gear released, finally allowing Ashton control over his ship.
He gingerly placed a hand on the throttle, ensuring no sharp movement is made incidentally. He traced his pointer finger around the small indent in the throttle, programmed for strafing vertically and horizontally. He pulled the indent slightly north-ward, and the ship reacted instantaneously, upplying thruster force upward. While the thrusters were quick to react, the ship's mass was not. After a few moments, the ship pulled away from the launch pad. As the ship continue to rise gently, he could hear Verity, speaking through the hallway speakers.
"From all of us at Stardust Cruises, we would like to personally welcome you to the Coalsack getaway cruise. This cruise liner is equipped with everything you need to get you from here to there in a pinch—safely and comfortably!"
He stayed alert to the surrounding ships, both in the viewport and on the radar, making sure none would get too close. He watched the compass, slowly angling the flight stick to align the ship's current direction with the target dot. The target slowly slowly wrapped around onto his hud, the large UI element enclosing the tiniest speck of a star—his next jump. He slowly pushed the throttle forward. He watched the throttle meter near his radar match the movement of his left hand, and saw the velocity indicator follow slowly after. He stayed at a comfortable 60, a full 20 less than the limit defined in Stardust's Guidelines for a Comfortable Flight manual.
"Please stay seated and buckled, while we prepare to jump to the next star on our lovely cruise! Your ship is equipped with Stardust patented Jump Reducers, designed to reduce the intensity of a hyperspace jump. If you have ridden in a star liner before, you will be amazed at the smoothness of our ride these coming days! Please prepare for intense an intense increase in motion. Sickness bags are provided underneath every seat. Once again, stay seated and buckled while we prepare to jump!"
He pulled up on his left middle finger, triggering a paddle switch.
Verity, now louder and speaking directly within the room, sounded out a much sterner-sounding announcement. "Frame-Shift Drive Charging."
An indicator appeared at the exact center of his cockpit's view, showing the charge level. It slowly ticked upwards, from zero percent, to five percent, and continuing. A low sweeping tone quickly filled the room, at the lowest of basses. As the charging process continued, the tone only increased in pitch and volume. What was barely a whisper at zero percent was now a bothering hum.
"Pilot," Verity sounded, even sterner than before—almost like it was emergency—"You have a loose item in the cockpit. Please stow the data tablet to prevent damage to Stardust Cruises' property."
He looked down. The tablet was still laying on his lap. He grabbed it with his right, and dropped it in the mesh bag pinned firmly to the side of his seat. He latched the mesh bag shut, and returned the hand to the flight stick.
The hum was still increasing, now at a higher groan. The ship began to subtly vibrate, the groan still got higher and loader until Verity gave her go-ahead. "Ready to engage."
At the same time, Verity gave her warning to the passengers. "Hold on tight."
He pulled up on his middle finger again, confirming the jump.
The bassy hum swelled into a soft, warbly whine. The immediate air around the craft shifting and warped, as if from heat waves. The warbling air then morphed to a shimmering blue field around the ship, focused most intensely at its sides, impossibly thin white streaks splintering off like hair-thin comets. The whine swelled again and again, shifting to a rapid beat, matching the drive's immense rotational speed housed within the rear of the ship's systems. The beat quickened further, pitching higher and louder and higher until—
He was thrown back into his seat in an instant, a force that would have turned his stomach upside were his chair not elevated in such a fashion. His vision went white for a single moment. The light in between the field around his ship and his eyes bundled together in a "sonic boom" of light, all reaching his eyes at the same time. For smaller ships, the phenomenon simply did not exist. But for larger ships, it only got worse the larger it got.
He blinked to adjust. Even for a medium-class ship, it disoriented him. He had heard of this crash wave of light before—he even heard of seasoned pilots going blind from continued exposure. Experiencing that flash of white light for himself was much different.
What was after that, though, was incomporable. He wasn't sure he'd ever get over the sight of hyperspace—witchspace, as some of the cadets called it. Brilliant clouds of gentle hues flew by the ship, barely grazing and scraping with a faint, ghastly sound. None of it was real, of course, there wasn't really anything in between the stars he was travelling to. It was just illusions of the eye trying to make sense of what it ultimately cannot. The sounds, however, were unexplainable. Truly, study after study was conducted. The ear can hear it, but machine cannot. They call it witchspace for a reason.
The hull sounded an intense, loud groan that crescendoed to a nearly piercing volume, then stopped all at once. The drive made its exit procedure, spitting the ship out at twenty five times the speed of light, rapidly decelerating to zero in the manner of a single second. All of this, nearly unfelt by the ship, another benefit of the drive's space. All that those inside feel is a sharp deceleration.
The Frame Shift Drive still whirred down in the background, while the ship's heat control worked overdrive to keep the craft from burning itself down. He watched patiently as the heat went from 80% to 40% over the span of some thirty seconds.
There they rested, just a few light minutes from the star they jumped to. What was once a small speck between a target's sights, now was a burning, broiling star that took up his entire viewport.
"System scan complete." Verity announced.
A notification at his right appeared. "Two stars discovered. Zero planets discovered."
A binary star system, with no planets. Fitting for a momentary rest, and not another moment of consideration.
"A passenger has reported feeling unwell as a result of the jump. Please hold for further instruction."
"No further jumps, Verity?"
"Affirmative. No further jumps will be made until the passenger status is confirmed."
He flipped two paddle switches, locked the flight controls, and pushed away the controls at either side of him. If he was to wait, he may as well check on the sick passenger.