The Syn-En Solution (SciFi Adventure)

Bei paced the America's circular bridge. The utilitarian space suited his mood and the mission more than the opulence of the conference room. Following the white, curving wall, he walked in a fixed orbit around the helm in the center of the room, mirroring the movement of planets and moons in the holographic projection above the helm. Squeezing and releasing his fingers in time to his steps, he chaffed at the passage of time. Six hours of creeping along the solar system like cockroaches waiting for darkness before venturing into the world.

  And they still had millions of kilometers to travel.

  For a moment, his control failed and his thoughts turned to Nell. Was she well? Had the bastard hurt her? Could her neural link have turned her into an automaton, responding only to wishes of an alien race?

  The sensors in his fingers tingled from the compression of his grip. He pivoted on his heel and joined Captain Petersburg and XO Penig at the helm.

  The bright fiberoptic can lights overhead glared off the XO's bald head. "Helium-3 won't be a problem. That last planet had enough to power our engines for several lifetimes."

  Captain Petersburg pointed to the holographic image of a small moon orbiting a gas giant. "Neuron spectroscopy indicates this satellite is almost entirely ice."

  "So, that takes care of water and fuel." Penig pinched his bottom lip in thought. "As for food? We could trade for supplies until we get on our feet."

  Captain Petersburg snorted. "That's assuming ET is willing to trade, and thinks we have anything of value in return. Those are not odds anyone with a working statistic calculator would take."

  Bei watched the hologram of the planetary system. "We don't have enough rations to find another world, nor room to grow anything to augment what little stores we have left."

  He focused on the fourth planet from the sun. Terra Dos. The Syn-En had no choice. They needed to live on that world, make it their own before starvation overtook them. "Judging from its orbit, we should be able to land in the Northern Hemisphere and plant crops right away. Our supplies should last until the first harvest."

  "If everything goes well." Captain Petersburg frowned and tucked her hair behind her ears. "We're soldiers, not farmers."

  She'd missed the obvious, the reason they were here. Bei shook his head. "We're survivors."

  "Aye." XO Penig set both hands on the metal lip of the round helm control hub and leaned toward the hologram projected from its center. "I've given you a list of civilians with agricultural experience. We lost the farming machinery when the Starfarer went down. Engineering is trying to come up with a plan to convert our ships into plows, reapers, harvesters, etc. It'll take time to make the changes, since the ships are currently in use."

  "And time is something we don't have." Bei rubbed his eyes and boxed up his frustration before focusing on the planet where Nell had landed safely hours before. "Let's hope we can eat whatever's on the planet."

  "Now hunting we can do." Captain Petersburg raised her arm, as if aiming an invisible rifle and cocked her trigger finger. "Fresh barbeque. I had it once, you know, on Mars Outpost Z24. Traders came through, seeking shelter from the dust storm. They cooked for us. Best rat I've ever tasted."

  "I want a leg, preferably from something bigger than a rodent." XO Penig cleared his throat. His fingers flew over the keyboard under the hologram. The projection displayed the three groups of the fleet, winding their way around through the solar system.

  Captain Petersburg nudged him with her elbow. "Don't knock rat before you try it."

  Static buzzed the com. Tension replaced the friendly banter. Bei set his hands on his hips. His fingers squeezed the bones and his armor hardened to prevent damage.

  "This is alpha team." Commander Brazil's voice filled the bridge and a green triangle illuminated the first of seven dart-like Beagles near Terra Dos's tidally-locked, small moon. "We're approaching the target. Descending to high lunar orbit."

  Bei stabbed the com button, opening the channel. "Roger, alpha. We have you. Start sending sensor feed."

  They'd safely passed four planets and twenty-nine moons. None showed signs of habitation, exploration or exploitation. It almost seemed as if the system had been free of life. Almost. But someone had directed Nell and Bastard to that fourth planet, and no civilization would invest so much in one place without protection. Bei had to find their defenses before they targeted the fleet. Two moons blocked most of Terra Dos's surface from their long range sensors. But if the planet was inhabited, the moons would have been the first bodies explored and armed.

  "Aye." Brazil acknowledged. "Sensors online. Transmitting now."

  "Admiral," Captain Petersburg's black eyes flashed, "we're receiving feed."

  Bei watched the helm's projection change from the solar system to a close-up of the moon's pocked surface. Accessing his cerebral interface, he transferred part of his attention to the WA and entered the CIC. Whatever waited for them, he wanted to be ready. "And the fleet?"

  Penig rocked back on his heels. "All ships' CICs are in sync with ours."

  In cyberspace, Bei confirmed the fleet's connections before focusing on the incoming information. The scan estimated Ghost moon's mineral content to be -silicon, titanium, aluminum, iron, magnesium, calcium and sodium. Things they could use, but nothing to feed the new inductees or civilian children. "It's similar to Earth's moon."

  "Not quite." Penig tapped on the hologram, drawing a rectangle around an area within the sensors' reach. The digital image changed, black shadows streaked the ghostly surface, but the resolution didn't improve. Scanners indicated the oxides in the black residues. Something had caused those scorch marks. Was it weapons or pieces of a ship hitting the moon's surface?

  Bei stared at the ebony oval markings. Something seemed off at the top edge. "That doesn't look like a meteor's impact crater."

  Captain Petersburg's fingers danced over the console. The helm overlaid the scorch marks with projected telemetry, weight and speed of the required meteor. She hissed through her teeth as the numbers popped up. "These numbers don't make sense. An asteroid of that size that would have taken a big chunk out of the moon if it hit."

  XO Penig jabbed the data, enlarging it. "A glancing blow is out. Something is half-buried in the rubble."

  "And the moon doesn't have enough atmosphere to slow a projectile down." Bei's gut clenched. Whatever had hit the moon had been piloted, and he doubted this had been their planned destination. So the question remained, where were the weapons?

  The hologram continued to unroll more of the moon's surface as Alpha squadron swept by. Using the helm's keyboard, Bei backed the image out. Hundreds of crash paths blackened the surface. The NDA between his shoulder blades itched. He doubted this disaster was an accident. Obviously this was the aftermath of a war, but who had shot down the ships and why? More importantly, what did it mean for Nell and the Syn-En's settlement of Terra Dos?

  Penig scratched the fringe of gray hair above his ear. "Commander Brazil, focus sensors at ten o'clock."

  "Roger, tightening sensor at ten o'clock."