Forerunner Series - Total Eclipse #1

Prologue

March 3^rd, 2253

Vigris Sector - Hatch System

UTFS Intrepid – Pod Bay Alpha

Chief Engineer Jim Dockins and pre-flight technical staff

“What the hell is it now, Smitty?  You told me that pod was ready to go an hour ago, and now I’m seeing the red light of death on the monitor.  Captain’ll chew my ass if we don’t launch on schedule,” said the burly chief engineer.  The Forerunner Intrepid held a compliment of twelve pods: three groups of four for three separate system surveys.  Each pod had to function or the survey wouldn’t be complete and the mission would be construed a failure.  For a ship carrying almost eight hundred crew, explorers and scientists whose sole mission was system survey and colonization preparation and with nearly forty billion Federation credits invested, everything came down to the Mark II Sensor Pod.   If the pods didn’t work, the mission was a wash.  And if the mission was a wash, nobody got paid.  Chief Engineer Jim Dockins would be held fully responsible for this, so of course, the man had stress-induced stomach pains since last Tuesday and was visiting the toilet once every forty-five minutes.

“Sorry, Chief.  It’s not a big deal, just a blown coupler.  Takes thirty seconds to replace,” said the scrawny man named ‘Smitty’.  Zack Smith was one of the oldest men on board, and the only man with a previous duty onboard a Forerunner.  Dockins could not, for the life of him, understand why the man had wanted to go out again.  Sure the reward was great, but the risk was almost too damned high. 

“Whenever you say ‘Not a big deal’ my gut ties itself into another knot, and if it ties one more knot, it’ll be a noose.  Just get it done.  I need these stupid song birds to sing in perfect pitch for the whole duration.  You’re last simulation didn’t exactly fill me with hope, Smitty.”

Smith blanched.  “Sir, honestly, the chances of one of these probes getting nailed by a meteorite is a million to one, a million to one.  The simulation is dumb.  I guarantee ya boss, they’ll work like a charm.  Just wait and see.  It won’t be a big deal.”

Dockins winced and shuffled uncomfortably.  “Stop blowing sunshine up my ass Smitty and get it done.  Final pre-launch checks are in less than five minutes.  Launch itself is only twenty-five minutes away.”

“It’s okay boss, really.  They’ll be ready on time, tuned up and ready to sing!”

Dockins sighed and moved to check on the next pod. 

UTFS Intrepid – Main Bridge

Commander John Philip

            “Sir, twenty-three minutes until launch.  Pre-launch checks are entering final stages,” the launch specialist called out.

            “Understood,” Commander Philip said.  So far, the mission had gone completely to schedule.  All jumps had been completed as predicted with less than .003 error.  The Patterson Drive had shown no faults or hiccups since its initial startup test at Jupiter.  But, frankly, the two months to get the ship this far out was nothing compared to the next step.  The Intrepid’s real mission started in 23 minutes.  Philip re-adjusted himself in the chair.  It was one of the longest periods of Philip’s life: waiting for the pods to finish pre-launch checks.  He re-adjusted his seat, the locksuit chafing at his neck where the metal extender ring sat. 

The locksuits, a marvel of modern UTF technology, were standard UTF space uniforms that doubled as fully self-contained space suits.  Form-fitting but comfortable, they resembled a loose-fitting wetsuit covered in pockets and metal devices.  The devices, placed at most of the joints, were kinetic generators and batteries.  Moving an arm once a day could keep the suit powered indefinitely.  The multiple units provided redundancy.  The extender ring, which when not in use resembled a collar, was made of a not-quite-liquid, not-quite-metal mimetic material, and when activated, extended over the wearer’s head in a pre-set pattern forming an air-tight helmet completing the seal of the suit.  The pseudo-metal even had the ability to become transparent at the front for a face-plate.  Extension and pressurization time was just under five seconds making them ideal for emergency decompression situations.  UTF regulations required all active duty personnel to wear the locksuit at all times. 

The Commander scanned the bridge taking in all the readouts and floating status screens.  Several technicians were huddled near the launch specialist’s console.  The Forerunner mission was considered a very important mission by UTF high command, and was also looked upon highly by academic institutions.  Serving a Forerunner mission was a dream for most technicians from any specialty.  The mission pushed the boundaries of UTF technology, and territory. 

On paper, the mission was simple.  The ship would go out into unexplored space, and via use of multiple space probes, would survey system after system seeking habitable planets.  When a habitable planet or near-habitable planet was found, the Forerunner would survey the planet, catalogue the results, drop a Jump Buoy, and move on.  Forerunner missions could last years.  Colonists and terraformers would follow in their wake creating new colonies enriching the United Terran Federation: Earth and her twelve colonies.

In reality, however, Forerunner missions were long and dangerous.  Forerunners traveled alone into places that even the latest optics could barely see.  Their navigators were handpicked elites paired up with the latest astrogation super computers, necessary to calculate the free-jump coordinates and insure the ship didn’t jump out into the middle of a star.  Even then, free-jumps were hazardous.  Moving hazards, such as radiation storms, meteorite clouds, comets, couldn’t be detected or predicted so far out and always posed a threat to the jump out.  Chances of hitting such things were small in the vastness of space, but were ever-present.  Anything could happen.  So the designers packed the ship with everything they could conceive of being needed for almost any situation.  This made the ship itself, a technological nightmare.  Bleeding-edge technology designed by paranoid neurotics.  The Commander frowned at the thought.

“Anything wrong, sir?” asked his first officer, Lieutenant Commander Jerrod Lovell.  Lovell was observant and intelligent, good qualities for a first officer, but sometimes he was almost too observant.

“No, nothing, just thinking to myself,” Philip said to him before raising his voice to the launch specialists, “Are the pods in launch position yet?”

“Yes, sir.  The technical staff worked out the fault lamp and all pods are green.  They were just loaded into their tubes.  We are on schedule.”

“Excellent,” Philip said as he waved his hand over the console on his right.  A translucent screen appeared, hovering in midair.  Philip typed some quick commands and opened a communications line to the pod bay.  “Chief Dockins, I show all pods green and ready for launch.  It’s your show.”  Philip hit another floating, translucent key, terminating the comm line.  He nodded to the launch specialist.

“All hands, stand by for Sensor Pod launch.  Mission Specialists, report to posts and prepare for data acquisition.”