March 14, 2075; UNSS Hermine
The bridge of the UNSS Hermine remained determinedly out of focus as they approached their arrival zone near L1. Adrian noticed the countdown in the corner of his display flash red, indicating thirty seconds until the switch back to normal space.
“All crew, prepare for transition, t-minus twenty-five seconds,” he announced before disengaging his comm from the ship wide address. It would be nice to get back to Sol and get some real food for a change. With no space for fresh food storage on the exploration ships, he and the crew had nothing to eat but military rations for the last six weeks.
His comm floated a notification in front of his vision, ::UNSS Rimor Memorial – 10:00.:: The reminder was unnecessary. He had shortened his survey run by two weeks so that he could attend the formal decommissioning of the Rimor and the memorial service for its lost crew.
The Hermine started reading out an audio countdown of the last ten seconds, the normally soothing voice doing nothing to alleviate Adrian’s tension. While there had been no more occurrences like what happened on the Rimor two years ago, they were no closer to understanding the alien warnings about travel space, or why the crew had been killed. A few more of the glowing beings had been sighted, but they were peaceful and made no further attempts at communication. It was only the unusual cases of Travel Sickness, leaving nearly a dozen people comatose or in a psychiatric ward, which gave any indication that their understanding of the drive was still woefully incomplete. He had asked Sally if she saw any relationship between the Travel Sickness cases and what happened on the Rimor, but she was unable to find anything conclusive.
A stomach-churning lurch accompanied by the bridge expanding to impossible size before collapsing back to its normal and gratifyingly stable configuration, meant they had transitioned back to normal space. With the drive disengaged, the interior of the ship returned to zero-G and Adrian suppressed the bile that accompanied the sudden change.
“Transition complete; linking with Sol data streams,” stated the matter-of-fact voice of the ship’s computer.
As local system data began to populate the screens around him, a voice sprang to life in his comm. “This is L1 control. We are picking you up right on the transition marker, Hermine. You are cleared for dock three and we are transmitting auto-dock data to your pilot now. Welcome back, Commander.” Business concluded, L1 signed off. The advent of a ship returning to Sol after an exploration run was starting to become commonplace and little of the fanfare that had used to greet them remained.
His pilot leaned back and stretched in his harness as the auto-dock sequence took over, accelerating them toward L1 station. With a muffled groan, he hunched back over his station and started scanning through the information scrolling across his screens. “We’ll be docked with L1 and back under some stable Gs again in about twenty-two minutes, Commander.” He grunted in appreciation as something on his monitor caught his attention. “It looks like the Beagle found a couple of stars worth a follow-up on their run. I really hope I get to pilot one of the long-term exploration missions; the data from some of these systems we’ve been finding is amazing.” A chorus of agreement came from the rest of the bridge crew.
“I just want to get in to see some of those alien ruins,” the communications officer said over his shoulder. “The builders were obviously more advanced than us, so who knows what kind of tech we could pull out of them.”
Adrian let the crew continue their chatter as he had his comm scan over the in-system ship listing. The Rimor was not shown as having arrived yet. If they were on schedule he should have about half an hour to clean up before it reached L1. It would be nice to see all of the old research team together again at the decommissioning and memorial. After the test runs completed eighteen months ago, they had been split up by the initial exploration phase of D-SEC’s plan. Due to the loss of half of the key science and command staff in the incident on the Rimor, instead of his intended job as a coordinator on L1, Adrian had been pressed into command of the Hermine. Truthfully he was glad he was out among the stars instead of warming a seat in the middle of nowhere between Earth and the moon.
Now that the first exploration phase was winding down, the Rimor could finally take its rest and its lost crew could be mourned properly, two years after they had disappeared. Sally had drawn the duty of the ship’s last mission and the honour of bringing it in to L1 for the memorial. The Voyager and the Yamato had taken up positions flanking the Lagrangian point where the Rimor was expected to come out of travel space, and would be serving as an honorary escort during the trip to the station. As the person responsible for overseeing the original Sorrenson Drive research staff, Adrian’s job was to meet the Rimor at the dock, rub elbows with the visiting dignitaries, and say a few words on behalf of UNSA once Sally finished the opening memorial speech. He was glad she had that responsibility, as he was almost certain that he would have struggled to get through a more personal presentation.
Adrian spent the duration of the trip to L1 reviewing his speech notes while his comm scanned internal and system data, ready to alert him should anything need attention. His eyes kept drifting to an image of Sahi that he had up on one of his screens. Of all the people that had to disappear, why did she have to be one of them?
All too soon his pilot was indicating that they were beginning final docking manoeuvres. Adrian saved a few last edits to his speech file and loaded it into his comm so he would have it at the memorial. Sahi’s smiling face continued to glow at him while the Hermine floated into docking port three and Adrian distracted himself with the information flowing across his screens.
UNSA L1 Station
The outer lock finished cycling and Sally heard the echo of a naval band floating up the hall to the bridge. The rest of the crew were already lined up and started bowing out through the airlock single file to the sound of a funeral march – UNSA’s staged parade of loss and compassion, hyped up for the public eye. Sally would have preferred a quiet, private ceremony, but at least she and the rest of the research team would finally have a chance to pay proper respects to their lost friends after the show.
As she left the bridge she issued a command with her comm to begin the final shut down of the Rimor. The lights and consoles on the bridge dimmed into obscurity and the air stopped circulating through the vents. UNSA intended to re-open the Rimor and turn it into a tourist attraction after a twelve month period of mourning, but until then it would be as silent and dark as the tomb it was.
Sally cast one last look over the bridge as she entered the still-lit hall and her shadow fell the length of the room like a ghost. She had heard of other alien sightings and had even seen one herself during a mission, but whatever happened to her friends had thankfully not occurred again, which only seemed to deepen the mystery surrounding their deaths. She had spent dozens of extra hours investigating the data, but still had no idea why that one test had been different. She had even tried correlating with the flight data from the Travel Sickness cases, but still came up empty.
With a resigned sigh she made her way down to the airlock accompanied only by the sound of her footsteps and the strains of the band. Sally exited the lock, pulled the latch closed, and secured it with her comm. Once the last of the lights in the Rimor darkened, she turned to begin her procession toward the stage, feeling the focus of the news cameras like an increase in air pressure on her skin. Crowded onto the stage were a podium and seven stands, each displaying a picture of one of her lost friends, the national flag of their home country, and the UNSA emblem.
She double checked that her speech was queued up in her comm before she mounted the steps and approached the podium. She had thought of letting the world know about the occurrence on the Rimor, but without any further communication from the aliens to explain what had happened, it would only jeopardize the exploration program. The fact that UNSA’s decision had proved to be the correct one galled her, but with a pang of selfish guilt, she knew there was no way she would ever trade the ex
periences of the last eighteen months for anything.
The crowd disappeared in a wash of flare from the spotlights as she reached the podium where she hung her head and waited for the band to finish its mournful song. She hoped that the flow of words in her ear as the comm dictated from her speech file, would let her focus enough to get through the next few minutes.
On screens around the Earth, people saw Sally take the stage in a command officer’s ship suit that she seemed far too young for. Underneath the bright lights, her eyes shining with restrained emotion, she looked fragile and alone behind the podium. She was flanked by the pictures of seven smiling faces that everyone recognized from the tragic news two years ago, but obviously had meant so much to this young woman. After the constant stream of surreal discoveries and frightening stories of Travel Sickness coming through the networks, for many it was this image of Sally standing on the stage that made humanity’s forays into galactic space real. As the final chords from the band echoed out into silence through the halls of L1 station, Sally cleared her throat. The barely controlled feelings in that sound struck at the hearts of everyone in the room and around the world.
“Two years ago today, seven people – brothers – sisters – sons – daughters – friends – lost their lives to give us the stars.” She paused to try and stop the waver in her voice. “I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. My friends were the last people you would expect to seek fame and recognition. They died doing what they felt was needed to bring us a new future. A lot of you won’t know who my friends were and it’s sad that it took their sacrifice to be recognized as true pioneers of galactic space travel. It’s sad that it took two years for the loss of my friends to be anything more than a note in a report and a bit on the evening news, but we all had work to do and it was deemed that mourning was a luxury we could not afford. It’s sad that they never got to enjoy the wonderful gift they gave to the rest of us.
“These are the names of my friends who sacrificed to give humanity a chance at a new age of exploration; the names of the people who allowed UNSA to give you your day’s top stories and a wondrous future for everyone.” Sally stepped back from the podium and walked to the first smiling picture before facing the cameras again.
“Robert Williams.” Sally turned and bowed to the picture before moving to the next, giving each of her fallen friends the same honour.
“Ahnwai Udungno”
“Zack Sheppard”
“Chen Fei”
“Dmitriy Krusckov”
“Kiko Yashima”
“Sahi Bahai”
Her circuit complete, she paused to use the edge of her sleeve to dab at the tears which had begun flowing down her face before returning to the podium. She took another second to collect herself and then looked back up to the room and her worldwide audience, her eyes red, but with a fire of determination blazing behind them.
“Remember these faces, remember these names.” She pointed back to each of the pictures in turn as the news feeds zoomed in for another close up of each portrait. “Robert Williams, Ahnwai Udungno, Zack Sheppard, Chen Fei, Dmitriy Krusckov, Kiko Yashima, Sahi Bahai.” The cameras pulled back for a wide shot of the entire stage as Sally spread her hands to take in all of the pictures behind her. “They are the people who made our expansion to the stars possible. Their sacrifice has touched all of our lives and they deserve honoured consideration in our thoughts and prayers.”
Sally turned back toward the portraits of her lost team members and bowed again. “Thank you.” The cameras watched her straighten and exit the stage, stopping to embrace a gathering of people near the front of the crowd. A tall and powerfully-built man with dark hair greying at the temples, light blue eyes, and wearing a commander’s insignia, detached himself from the group and stepped up on to the stage, drawing the eyes of the world away from the young woman who had finally made humanity’s latest great endeavour a reality to so many.
Sally dropped into her seat beside the rest of the team, still holding hands with her friends on either side. Adrian had taken the stage now and was paying his respects to those lost on the Rimor. He looked every inch The Commander. A man you could trust to take you out into the great emptiness of space safely. Sally hated the fact that she was so young. Compared to Adrian she must have looked like a silly little girl up on the stage. Everyone probably just felt sorry for her and would not take her message seriously. After all, what could she matter in the eyes of all the viewers that had watched her speech? She settled back more comfortably on her chair and, with the people she cared about around her, finally took a moment to mourn the friends that had been lost.
Adrian stood with the rest of the research team and smiled at Sally as she left the stage. She had handled herself well and he was proud of her. It was time for his turn in front of the lights though, so he turned, squared his shoulders, and resolutely climbed the steps Sally had just descended. Once again Sahi’s face dominated his vision and he tightly gripped the podium until he regained his composure and looked up to the crowd.
Adrian focused on the litany of his speech buzzing in his ear from his comm. As the military commander of the research team he was expected to help carry UNSA’s views and he could not let himself get distracted by his emotions. He realized he was going over time when he saw Frontenac waiting impatiently at the side of the stage. Adrian wrapped up his condolences quickly, not focusing or lingering on Sahi. He shook hands and endured a quick embrace from Frontenac before leaving the stage and taking his seat at the front of the crowd.
The look of loss in Frontenac’s eyes was almost believable as he began, “It is a tragic day of remembrance that brings us here together.” He planted both hands squarely on the side of the podium and braced himself for support, as if the burden of his despair made it impossible for him to hold his own weight. “A day when we must pay our respects to those near to us whom we have lost; to those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our race in the pursuit of a new hope for all. We at UNSA acknowledge the loss of these seven great people who died to give us the wondrous times of exploration and discovery that we are now living in...”
Adrian’s attention kept drifting away toward the picture of Sahi during the Chairman’s speech. Seeing her smiling face caused him to simultaneously hate both Frontenac and himself for covering up the events surrounding her loss. He knew it was the correct decision, but that only made it more difficult to bear. It was unfair for him to take it out on Gilles though, even if he was over-acting for the benefit of the cameras.
Adrian blew out a quiet breath of tension to regain control. With the testing and exploration schedule of the past two years, he had been unable to take the time to come to grips with the fact that Sahi was gone and that he had to lie about her disappearance – her ‘disappearance’ – he was unable to even admit that she was dead. He really needed to take some time and get control of these emotions before they jeopardized those under his command. He hoped this memorial service would at least help to bring him some closure.
A change in the tone of the Chairman’s speech pulled Adrian back to what was happening behind the podium. He shook his head and tried to focus. With the next phase of the Sorrenson Drive program ramping up, wallowing in his loss was not a luxury he could afford and he was expecting UNSA to use the publicity of the memorial to reveal their plans.
“...pleased to officially commission for active duty our first seven Ground-Breaker class exploration and colonization ships.” The lights dimmed revealing a large screen with a live feed from the L5 yards. Seven vessels were slowly emerging from their construction cradles under the power of tug-ships.
“The UNSS Udungno.” Lights lit up on the hull of the ship proudly displaying the lost research team member’s name. It was at least two-hundred-fifty meters long, judging from the size of the tugs next to it, making it almost ten times the size of the first exploration craft like the Rimor. Frontenac continued as the next ship fully emerged from its cradle.
?
??The UNSS Sheppard.”
“The UNSS Fei.”
“The UNSS Yashima.”
“The UNSS Williams.”
“The UNSS Kruskov.”
The Chairman paused while the last vessel floated out of dry-dock and Adrian’s heart leapt into his throat as the lights spilled across the hull illuminating its name, even though he knew what it would be. “And the flagship of our new Ground-Breaker exploration fleet, the UNSS Bahai.” The screen pulled out to a wide shot as all seven of the ships slowed to a stop. From this view Adrian noticed that large scaffolds were being assembled behind the L5 yards.
“And in a joint effort from MNASA, FESEA, and CNSA, overseen by UNSA, I am also pleased to announce the start of construction on three of our new Ark class colonization ships. These Ark ships will be capable of transporting over two thousand colonists, along with all necessary supplies, to worlds deemed safe by the crews of our Ground-Breaker fleet.” The size of the construction arms for the Arks was astounding. Adrian figured that each of them would be well over a kilometre long. How were the multinats expecting to get the resources up to L5 to construct these monstrosities or the people to fill them?
He quickly received his answer as the screen changed to show one of the asteroid captures that had been wrangled into orbit around Earth for easy mining. The view showed a large docking door in place on the underside of the asteroid and, as Adrian watched, lights came on around the rim of the portal, glittering off of a large black column that began to emerge from within. The entire crowd gasped at the realization of what they must be seeing.
The lights came up and Frontenac stepped in front of the screen. “And to fully herald humanity’s entry into the age of galactic exploration, we are building a bridge between Earth and the stars! UNSA is proud to show you all a first view of the Rimor Memorial Earth to Space Elevator emerging from the newly christened UNSA Station, formerly NEA 347. In exactly twelve months, timed to correspond with the opening of the Rimor Memorial here at L1 station, the space elevator will touch down at a base which has started construction in Jamaica. With its completion, humanity will be ready to begin colonizing those worlds that UNSA exploration crews have proclaimed safe within as little as three years.” The screens showed a traditional golden-shovel ground-breaking ceremony occurring Earth-side in a field surrounded by palm and banana trees, but Adrian was too stunned to react. The crowd around the research team were all up on their feet applauding as Frontenac paced the stage with his arms thrust up in a victory salute. Whatever solemnity had been created at the start of the memorial was quickly buried under a roar of jubilation and excitement.
Adrian looked down the row at his friends who were turning to one another with questioning glances. Sally was outright furious as a message from her popped into his comm. ::You’ve got to be kidding me; if you don’t do something I will.::
Up on the stage, Frontenac was busy silencing everyone. “Thank you, thank you! This is truly a moment for all of mankind to celebrate! Now if everyone would follow me to dock five, we can board one of our new shuttles which will take us over to UNSA station. Once we arrive, there will be a tour of the elevator extrusion factory and a celebration in the beautiful Earth View Terrace lounge. Afterward, everyone is welcome to stay in the new Virgin Galactic Hotel 347. I assure you the views from the rooms will be spectacular!” Frontenac and a group of UNSA aides quickly got everyone moving toward the exits.
Adrian took in the shocked expressions of his team and commed a reply to cut off Sally’s imminent outburst. ::Not now, Sally.:: Verbally he said to all of them, “You guys go ahead and I’ll meet you at the dock.” He left them to make their own way to the shuttle as he rushed to catch up with Frontenac.
One of the UNSA aides jumped in front of him as he approached the Chairman and his retinue. “I’m sorry, Commander, Chairman Fro –”
Adrian pushed past the flunky and got Frontenac’s attention. A text popped up in his comm as Frontenac saw Adrian. ::The lab just off of the corridor to the left.::
Adrian waited while the Chairman said a few words to the multinat dignitaries he was walking with and then let the group continue on ahead before ducking into the lab with Adrian right behind him.
“Commander, what can I –” Frontenac started before Adrian interrupted him.
“Really, Gilles? You’re going to turn our memorial service into a celebratory wine and dine for UNSA’s backers and partners?”
Frontenac grimaced and shook his head. “Adrian, look, I know that –”
“No, you don’t know.” Adrian closed in and loomed over Frontenac. “It has been two years and UNSA finally gives our friends a real memorial service, only to have you turn it into a publicity stunt. Tell me why this announcement couldn’t have waited a few days?”
“Adrian, I am sorry. You know the stakes,” Frontenac replied as he hung his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. “We cannot let the media dwell on the loss of the crew of the Rimor. We worked hard to control the rumours last time and we must not give the networks a chance to bring them back up again. The Order of Relativity has redoubled their witch-hunt to shut down the program in the weeks since we announced the service. It will not serve the memory of our friends if the program they died for is shut down because of a few unanswered questions.” He stopped and put a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “I promise you that UNSA is well aware of the work all of you have put in and we will give you the chance to spend some quality time together again.” He paused and tilted his head to the side as he received a call on his comm. “Listen, I have got to go. I will speak with you and your team at the dinner. Just please ensure they do not do anything rash before then.”
Frontenac turned and left Adrian in the lab staring after him, listening to his receding footsteps.
Adrian caught up with his team waiting for him in the corridor outside of bay five. Sally saw him first and called out, “Commander, what did the UNSA toady have to say?”
An embarrassed blush heated her face as Adrian frowned at her, but she did not back down. “We will just have to grin and bear it for a few hours. The Chairman said he would talk to us at the dinner tonight.” While he was speaking he commed Sally a message. ::Leave it for now, please.::
She briefly caught his eye and then stalked off toward the shuttle as Joan Fischer, their tall red-maned chief of engineering on the project, arched an eyebrow in Sally’s direction. “Did she really expect UNSA not to use this opportunity for everything it was worth? She’s been on the team as long as the rest of us.”
Adrian just shrugged and tried to keep the same faintly irritated expression on his face. “Come on, let’s grab some seats on the shuttle before we end up standing.”
The trip to UNSA Station from L1 was uneventful beyond a few of the passengers getting space-sick during the low gravity departure and docking. The pilot also happily informed them before they left, that the shuttle was outfitted with one of the new fusion plasma rockets, so they would be at Earth standard gravity for the entire four-hour trip. Adrian wincingly recalled the two-day zero-G rides between L1 and Earth on the old reaction engine shuttles and chuckled to himself. While he and the rest of the crew talked quietly amongst each other, Sally contented herself with brooding the entire trip. At least she was refraining from making a scene.
After they exited the shuttle at UNSA Station, a large elevator took everyone up into the asteroid and let them off at a debarking area which opened onto a massive promenade tunnelled through the rock. The street arced up around the curvature of the small planetoid’s horizon on either side of them and the comfortable pull at Adrian’s feet indicated the entire asteroid had been spun up to near one-G, making the outer surface ‘down’. Workers were planting trees in front of a bank of empty store fronts, some already bearing brand name signs, which lined the street with access to offices and living quarters above them. Further down the avenue, human and robot crews were hard at work carving the asteroid rock, shaping it into handsome facade
s that would one day be more stores, hotels, or apartments on the station. The entire team gawked at the station interior, their disappointment at UNSA’s interruption of their memorial overwhelmed by sheer amazement. After spending almost eight years working out of research facilities on Mars and L1, the attention to creature comforts on UNSA station was surreal. Workers were even mounting large OLED mats on the ceilings to simulate a fake sky.
Frontenac stepped up on a small stage flanked by two blossoming cherry trees, drawing the attention of the camera crews who were excitedly panning up and down the visible length of the street. “Welcome, to one of our best kept secrets. As you can see, we are moving beyond the institutional facilities that everyone associates with space travel. UNSA Station will be the first thing all colonists will see when they leave Earth. This station will provide them with all the amenities of home while giving them a chance to acclimatize to the rigours of space flight and colonization. All of this is being built to reduce the amount of shock that moving to another world will cause for a population that has never left our home planet. Please, feel free to explore the station before we move onto a tour of the elevator cable factory. Afterward, we will be treating all of you to a wonderful dinner to showcase our vision for this station and the future. Should you wish a closer look, UNSA staff will direct you through some of the office and living spaces where construction has been completed.”
Catering carts with snacks and drinks were rolled in, further enhancing the sense of a party atmosphere. Adrian and the rest of the team chatted animatedly as they stretched after the flight and picked up refreshments. Occasionally attendees would approach and offer their condolences, but the sombre note which had started the day’s events had completely evaporated. He was talking with Satish about one of the planets the Hermine had encountered on its last exploration run, when he caught a sullen look from Sally. The piece of cantaloupe in his mouth soured with guilt as she stared at him. While he wished he was just overwhelmed by all of the excitement, in truth he knew he was not ready to face the loss of Sahi and was grateful for the curtailing of the memorial service. He uncomfortably ducked Sally’s accusatory gaze, feigning interest in a tray of cheeses.
UNSA aides started circulating through the crowd, herding them up the wide street toward a tram station where everyone was instructed to board cabs that still reeked of new plastic. Once they all had settled in, a tone sounded their departure from the station and they smoothly accelerated. Their car very quickly passed into rough tunnels of bare stone, although even here robot crews were working to make everything appear more like Earth. The team guessed that once the station reached full size it would likely support a permanent population of one-hundred-thousand and many more transient residents.
They finally stopped at a utilitarian tram station and, as everyone debarked, they could feel a faint vibration coming up through the soles of their feet. Gravity was much lower here and Adrian noticed that some of the people who had been sick on the shuttle ride were starting to look ill again. Frontenac was in front of a large hallway with the label ‘Cable Extrusion’ above it. He wore a bright-blue hardhat strapped down on his head and UNSA aides moved through the assembly passing out similar headwear. As they gave out the hats, the aides explained that the chin straps on the helmets would be necessary due to passing through a zero-G environment during the tour. More than a few people re-boarded the tram and indicated they would wait until the tour finished at that announcement.
Once everyone who decided to tough it out were properly adorned and capped in blue, they were funnelled into the hall and through two large airlocks. At the door of the second airlock a klaxon blared and a perky female voice claimed that the area beyond the doors was a zero-G industrial zone. The room through the lock was an immense cylinder running up the center of the asteroid. Large robot miners floated along the central corridor, dumping carbon rich ore into processing hoppers distributed around the chamber. The people were guided along a catwalk before passing through another airlock into a mechanical area where the carbon was extracted, heated, extruded into continuous monofilament strands, and then braided into the final cable at a rate of just over four kilometres an hour. The whole process was explained by the same sing-song voice that had greeted them when they entered the facility, causing the team to roll their eyes at each other whenever their glances met.
Once the tour completed, they exited the facility and took the tram back out to the living areas of the station where UNSA staffers led them toward a set of doors underneath a sign proudly proclaiming the entrance to the ‘Earth View Terrace.’ Inside the entryway, a large airlock made to look like a sweeping grand staircase, directed them down toward the surface of the asteroid before it broadened out into a large atrium which obviously gave the venue its name. Stretching from wall to wall, floor-to-ceiling windows were currently offering a stunning view of the Americas rising from the asteroid’s cratered surface, which provided a briefly disorienting grey and brown mottled ceiling for the view. Waiters in formal attire appeared and started passing out drinks and hors d’oeurves.
The room was filled with a who’s-who of UNSA and the multinats. Through the crowd Adrian even saw Andrew Sorrenson, the lucky discoverer of the ancient alien ship on Mars that they had gotten the drive technology from. Frontenac was really pulling out all the stops if they had bothered to dig him up out of whatever Martian dive he called home these days. Adrian nodded in response to Sorrenson’s wan smile of greeting before the conversation of his team drew his attention back to their table.
“Yeah, but that means we only have three years to find somewhere safe to put all these people that UNSA is going to be bringing up the elevator.” The person talking was Satish Shurma, their principal bio-systems engineer and a former eminent Martian xeno-biologist. Despite his East Indian heritage, he spoke with a wide Texas drawl that immediately identified him in a crowd. “I think UNSA is cutting it a little too tight. Even if they have the crews for those new Ground-Breakers ready to head off to the high-priority colonization targets right away, there is no way that you can explore an entire planet and identify all likely biological threats in three years.” Nods of agreement went around the table in response to his sentiment.
They were interrupted by Chairman Frontenac approaching them, his hands wide in apology. “Ah! Excellent, you are all here. First let me thank you on behalf of UNSA for allowing us to co-opt today’s events. I am sure this must have been a trying day for all of you. Commander Daniels has made it clear to me in no uncertain terms, that we owe each of you a great debt of gratitude.” A waiter approached from behind him bearing a bottle of champagne and nine glasses which were set on the table as the Chairman continued. “First, I would like to offer each of you whatever time you feel necessary to recharge before your next mission. Our landers are at your disposal should you wish to return to Earth for any reason.” His eyes twinkled and a smile played at the corner of his mouth as he lowered his tone conspiratorially. “However, I suspect that when you see what else I have to offer, you may not want to take too much time. If you check your comms, you should all be receiving a package containing some details of your next assignments. We realized that splitting your team up after the testing completed was not the best decision on our part, so UNSA has selected all of you to form the command crew on the UNSS Bahai.” Gasps came from around the table as the team opened the dossiers that they were downloading and Frontenac proceeded with an enticing grin. “Further, we are giving you first pick of the Ground-Breaker missions so you can go wherever you choose in the exploration zones.” A pop of the champagne bottle being uncorked punctuated the end of his declaration.
Adrian looked at Sally whose bitterness had finally been overwhelmed by the thrill of their new assignment and was speaking animatedly with their communications technician Kelly Friesen. He smiled in thanks at Frontenac as the Chairman raised a glass in a toast of congratulations before leaving them to continue his mingling.
Kelly squeale
d in excitement and hugged Sally before turning to the rest of the table and exclaiming, “Can you believe it? We’re going to be the command crew of the flagship!”
“And don’t forget we get to choose to go wherever we want in the galaxy. Just look at mission zone six – it’s where they found those abandoned alien worlds. We could walk through an alien city!” proclaimed Allain Brodeur, their navigation systems specialist, who was practically vibrating with excitement.
Penelope Artiz, one of the engineering technicians and the only other military member of the group outside of Adrian and Kelly, leaned in looking enthusiastically around the table. “All those planets and star-systems, who knows what we might find!”
Before long all of them were happily discussing the details of the different missions and good naturedly arguing about why they thought their choice was the best. Adrian sighed and wiped his memorial speech from active recall, letting their excitement dissolve his remaining melancholy. He figured he could take some time to himself on the trip out to wherever they decided to go, and began compiling a list of the systems that he and his crew could consider exploring. It looked like it was going to be a long night.