Episode 4: Strays - v1.0

=Triangulum Files=

Episode 4: Strays
Three weeks had passed since the USS Harvard had first entered Hell’s Cradle. For Vixen those three weeks had been slow, dull and boring. If she wasn’t in the cockpit running a system patrol or surveying some system, she was sitting in the pilot’s lounge or running a sim for the bazillionth time. With only 5 fighters and 21 pilots her turn to sit in the hot seat only came around a couple of times during those three weeks. If it hadn’t been for the dedicated, and almost as bored as her, flight technicians she would still be waiting her turn instead of flying.

It was another standard run out to a system to drop a sensor buoy and to scout out a couple of other systems on the way back, but she was flying and that seemed to be the only thing that mattered at that point.

Her wings for this run were those of the newly minted Wolfcraft Type 1X. With design help from the pilots, spare time donated by the flight technicians and other engineering staff, and permission from the higher ups, they had built her from the ground up. They didn’t have detailed designs to work from, but most could take apart a real one and put it back together sleeping, with the lights off, and in Zero-G. Everyone was confident it could be done, so they blazed ahead.

The original Wolfcraft design was a very sturdy and reliable model. Features included three oversized ISAH Pods, triple redundant Shimmer Shields, four Deuterium Slug Cannons, two MILAN ship-to-ship missiles, and twin Black Light FTL Gatlings, and a single seat cockpit. A formidable fighter when in the right hands…..which was every time it left the hanger. Why change anything if it was great the way it was? First of all, you don’t. Fighters like that are great for attack or defence, so taking any away would be just plain stupid. However, the Wolfcraft weren’t being used for attack or defence much. Mostly they were being used as survey or scout craft. Despite not being specifically designed for those tasks, they were still performing as good as their equipment would let them.

On the Type 1X, the Deuterium Slug Cannons were removed completely to make room for an enhanced sensor suite. This lightened the load considerably, as they weren’t being used in favor of the munition-less Black Light FTL Gatlings anyway. No one wanted to get yelled at for wasting resources, so when it came down to a choice everyone steered clear of the DSCs…...unless the situation specifically called for it…...which hadn’t really happened yet. Also the cockpit was expanded to two seats, using the designs already on file. An additional person allowed for training of new pilots, company on long missions, or a specialist who could both see the enhanced sensor data and see it in person so their was less confusion on where to go and what to do. Two smaller ISAH Pods were also added for increased speed, especially over long distances. Hardpoints were added around the cockpit and on the underside of the craft. Both would allow for easy mounting to objects or objects to them for special missions…….like having to tow the Harvard again. Or for carrying additional cargo, scientific equipment or weapons packages. The options were endless. For now, atleast, Vixen and her co-pilot, Chunky, had to get through the test flight and get back to the ship before the dream could go further.

“Harvard to Vixen. Divert to TG-288, a ship just jumped into the system. You are to hold at the perimeter and wait for further instructions,” came over the comms.

“Acknowledged,” replied Vixen.

“Do you think it’s the Imperials?” wondered Chunky.

“Probably. They’ve been popping up everywhere,” replied Vixen absently as she adjusted their course to head for the designated system. They were only a couple of light years away, so the trip was short before they dropped back into normal space. In the distance the star at the center of the system glinted dimly.

Vixen pulled up the telemetry from the Union sensor buoy in the system. True enough, there was a Gax ship near one of the gas giants. From the exterior markings it didn’t appear to be military, but its shape and design were clearly Gax. What was odd was that it was doing an atmospheric braking maneuver. It was an efficient yet brutal way to decrease speed by using the friction of the atmosphere against the hull to slow the vessel down. The system had been surveyed weeks ago and there hadn’t been any indication that anyone had been anywhere in the system. So what could the Gax ship be heading for?

It was nearly two hours before anything changed. The Gax, slowly making it’s long elliptical orbit around the gas giant, and with Vixen and Chunky watching on, nearly bored to tears.

“Second contact in the system,” announced Chunky eagerly.

“”Hm?” replied Vixen.

“Where did it come from?” said Chunky, mostly to himself.

Finally seeing what he was seeing, Vixen was just as confused as her copilot. Coming out of the clouds was large ship like object. It had a wide, birdlike shape with a long trailing…..tail of sorts. The information being gathered by the sensor buoy were odd. The propulsion was a crude hydrogen fueled rocket system, no sign of gravity manipulation was detected, and the hull was made up with a unique molecular structure that the computronic couldn’t figure out without more data.

What was more puzzling were the radio signals that the Gax ship had been sending out since it had arrived in the system and had only just reached the sensor buoy. They weren’t like the previous ones they’d detected or received in the past. A pattern was detected, but it almost seemed to be in a different language entirely.

As the new ship pulled out and away from the atmosphere the Gax ship immediately changed course for an intercept. Slowly the two craft drew closer. It took over three hours more until either ship changed course. This time it was the new ship which diverted sharply back towards the gas giant. The Gax responded by launching a torpedo at the new ship which landed a direct impact on the engines causing the ship to begin a slow tumble and altering its trajectory. As the ships closed within 20 km of each other, the Gax ship shot again, what at first appeared to be more torpedoes. They were in fact harpoon like weapons which imbedded in the other ship while still being attached to the Gax ship via a cable of sorts. Once attached the Gax ship altered course away from the gas giant, slowly dragging the other ship with it.

As Vixen watched the events unfold with fascination she only vaguely became aware that a second set of signals was being detected by the buoy. These ones had a pattern as well which was very similar to the ones being broadcast by the Gax ship, but were infinitely more complex and dynamic. The computronic aboard the Harvard had been busy analyzing the signals from both ships since they had been first detected along with all the rest of the data collected by the sensor buoy. Finally having completed its analysis the information was displayed on Vixen’s console.

Probability object being an organic construct: 89%

Probability object being an organic life form: 61%

Probability object being intelligent: 98%

Probability object being sentient: Inconclusive

Conclusion: Object is most likely an organic life form possessing advanced complex intelligence bordering on sentience. Further data is required.

“That thing’s alive,” exclaimed Vixen. With renewed fascination quickly becoming horror, she watched on.

Once both ships were a sufficient distance from the giant planet the Gax ship began to slowly reel the other ship/creature closer. As the gap closed to within a kilometer additional harpoons were deployed. These were much slower and had maneuverable tips which moved to the opposite side of the ship/creature before they too embedded themselves.

Pain response detected.

Confirmed: Object is an organic lifeform.

Confirmed: Life form displays complex intelligence.

Probability life form being sentient: 38%

Language Analysis Complete - Language contains complex concepts and references to self.

Translation: In progress.

“Harvard, requesting permission to enter system to conduct close range scans of the Gax ship and the life form,” called Vixen.

“Hold, Vixen,” replied the flight boss aboard the Harvard. After a brief pause he continued, “Harvard Actual believes life form to be sentient. You are to enter the system and intercept the Gax ship. Targets will be painted. Should you take fire you are authorized to disable all weapon systems aboard the Gax ship.”

“Acknowledged,” replied Vixen as she prepped for a quasi-space jump.

“Good hunting.”

“Sensor suite calibrated for close-range sweep of organic structures,” called Chunky from the back seat as they briefly entered quasi-space.

When they re-entered normal space, they were still several hundred kilometers from the Gax ship. Despite this, they were within weapons range in only a couple of seconds. FTL cannons lanced out at the harpoon anchor points on the Gax ship. Before the ship even began to react the life form had been freed from its captors. As Vixen swung wide to assess her handy work and see how the Gax would respond, two torpedoes were launched at her. Collision alarms blared and she broke left, evading the first torpedo entirely, but the second one had gotten in close and detonated only meters off the hull. The shimmer shields deflecting the blast without difficulty.

Flipping a 180, Vixen raced toward the Gax ship, who only realized then that it should have started running from the beginning. Again, faster-than-light bolts of energy raped across the hull of Gax ship, as the fighter orbited only 10 meters out. The Gax ship finally began a mad dash towards a hyperjump point, warnings began screaming at Vixen for attention.

“Warning catastrophic engine malfunction imminent. Emergency shutdown initiated,” announced the computronic as the engines suddenly cut out.

“What happened?,” demanded Vixen.

“One of the ISAH pods was thrown out of alignment so the computronic locked down the engines,” reported Chunky.

“Looks like it’s one of the smaller ones. I think I can get the computronic to bypass it. We’ll fly home on four engines, it’s just going to take the computronic some time to recalibrate,” announced Vixen.

“Vixen, it looks like we’ve got an audience,” said Chunky.

“Hm?....Oh, you’re right,” blurted Vixen as she looked off to her right. Sitting about 800 meters out was the life form pointing straight at them. The thing was immense at this distance with the main body measuring nearly 50 meters across with 100 meter wing-like appendages off to either side and two scoop-like openings were on either side of the main body. Tense seconds passed as the pilots watched the life form and the life form seemed to be watching the pilots.

Glancing back to her controls, Vixen saw that they were the focus of an intense barrage of shortwave radio signals across multiple spectrums. “This is a First Contact situation isn’t it,” she redundantly asked her copilot.

“Yep,” answered Chunky.

“And since I got the stick I get the…...honor,” gulped Vixen.

“Yep.”

“Can you remember your First Contact training from the academy?” hoped Vixen.

“Nope.”

“Thanx. You’ve been a great help.”

“You’re welcome,” answered Chunky innocently.

Summoning what little she could remember of that critical First Contact training, Vixen selected a shortwave bandwidth that seemed to be receiving more attention than the others and began having the computronic begin broadcasting. It would first begin to build a language with the life form through the nearly universal constant of mathematics. From the basics of numbers to the more complicated concepts like geometry. Each question and answer brought the computronic to a greater understanding of the life form and how it communicates. This critical first step could take several hours even days or months depending on how different the life form was from the base languages it would utilize.

Expecting that this was likely to take a while, Vixen settled in for the long haul. To her great surprise the creature began requesting more information on a second frequency  and then a third and forth until the computronic had maxed out the number of frequencies that the communications hardware could broadcast and receive simultaneously. Within minutes they were beyond simple math, and within an hour they finishing the more complicated maths. By the time two and a half hours had passed the computronic had a base language established and the real work was to begin…...direct communication.

“Greetings. I am Victoria Everett, a pilot for the United Stars of the Galaxy. We are available….uh, I mean, open to peaceful communication and…..stuff.”

All transmissions ceased from the life form. A minute passed before a reply came back in a simpler form to the previous signals and on the same frequency that Vixen had used. “I. AM. [ERROR]. I. AM. A. [ERROR]. I. AM. HAPPY. WE. COMMUNICATE. I. AM. HAPPY. YOU. COME.”

“I’m happy we can communicate too,” replied Vixen, uncertain what else she should say.

“WHERE DOES VICTORIA EVERETT COME FROM?” came the quick reply from the life form.

“I come from very far away. But my friends and I are staying in a system close to here. Where do you come from?”

“I COME FROM [ERROR]. I HAVE NEVER LEFT.”

“Your names for things are too complex for our understanding. Are you from this system?”

A pause before it replied, “YOU THINK MORE FOCUSED THAN I. I WILL TRY TO SPEAK MORE FOCUSED FOR YOU. YES, I WAS BORN IN THIS STAR SYSTEM. I AM THE ONLY ONE LEFT.”

“I am sorry to hear you have been alone. Is it because of the Gax, the other ship we chased away? Is it because of them that you are alone?” asked Vixen tentatively.

“IN PART. THEY HAVE COME BEFORE AND TAKEN MY [ERROR]......MY SISTERS. BUT THE WANDERERS HAVE NOT COME SO THEY COULD NOT BEAR CHILDREN.”

“Wanderers?”

“YES. I AM [ERROR].....FEMALE. WANDERERS ARE [ERROR]......MALE.”

“Oh, so where do the males come from?”

“THEY WANDER THE STARS LIKE VICTORIA EVERETT AND THE ONES YOU CALL GAX.”

“You mean they travel from other star systems?” exclaimed Vixen in disbelief.

“YES.”

“How is that even possible?”

“YOUR MIND IS TOO FOCUSED. I COULD NOT EXPLAIN FOCUSED ENOUGH. I WILL TELL YOUR BIG MIND. MAYBE BIG MIND CAN TELL FOCUSED MIND.”

On a second frequency the computronic began to receive massive amounts of information. Most of it was some very complicated math. What little Vixen did manage to pick out she recognized from her academy days and dealt with faster-than-light travel similar to the ISAH drives used by the Union to travel through quasi-space.

“WE LEARNED THIS OVER MANY [ERROR],” but this time the life form sent over a data packet with reference data to describe the word that she had used. The computronic was then able to simplify it to, “THOUSANDS OF YEARS.”

“The “big mind” you refer to is our computronic. It helps us to make calculations that would take us a long time to do ourselves,” corrected Vixen. This only seemed to confuse the life form. It requested clarification from the computronic which obliged by sending a data packet of its own to the life form.

“SO VICTORIA EVERETT IS NOT THE [object] AT [spacial coordinates]?”

“No, I am inside the object you’re talking about, It’s a ship…..an artificial construct we use to get between stars. I ride inside it and control it,” several more data packets passing between them.

“IT IS IMPRESSIVE THAT SUCH SMALL [beings] CAN CROSS BETWEEN STARS. IT TAKES MANY YEARS TO GATHER ENOUGH MATERIALS TO GET TO OTHER STARS. IT MUST ALL BE STORED INSIDE SO THE WANDERERS ARE MUCH LARGER THAN YOUR SHIP. ONCE THEY LEAVE THEY MUST SLEEP THE MANY YEARS IT WILL TAKE THEM TO GET THERE. IF THEY DID NOT THERE WOULD NOT BE ENOUGH FOR THEM TO LIVE.”

“If it’s possible to leave this system, why have you stayed?”

“I DO NOT HAVE THE PROPER ORGAN TO LEAVE THE SYSTEM. I WOULD NEED TO GROW IT FIRST. HOWEVER, I AM TOO BIG TO MAKE THE JOURNEY. I HAVE GROWN LARGE TO PROVIDE ROOM FOR MY CHILDREN. I CAN NOT GROW SMALLER. IT WOULD TAKE TOO MUCH [energy] TO LEAVE THE SYSTEM. I WOULD NOT SURVIVE THE JOURNEY. INSTEAD I GROW MY CHILDREN. I HOPE THEY WILL TELL THE WANDERERS TO COME BACK.”

“You have children?”

“THEY ARE NOT BORN YET. ONE IS ALMOST READY. HE WILL BE A WANDERER. HE SAYS HE LIKES YOUR [voice].”

“He can hear me?”

“YES. WE CARRY OUR YOUNG LONGER THAN THEY WOULD NEED IF THEY WERE TO SIMPLY LIVE IN [a gas giant]. IT GIVES THEM TIME TO LEARN. DURING THAT TIME THE MOTHER AND CHILD CAN COMMUNICATE AND THE CHILD CAN SENSE THROUGH THE MOTHERS SENSES. HE HAS BEEN LISTENING FROM THE BEGINNING.”

The two continued talking for another 4 hours much to Chunky’s dismay. The computronic also got quite the workout as it was continually bombarded by questions while the two were still talking. It’s questions were more about the Union and how it functioned. However it was inevitably time to part ways.

“It has been a pleasure meeting you. If you like, we can come back again. I’m sure there is so much that we can learn from each other,” said Vixen.

“Oh yes,” replied the life form, her communication having improved exponentially. “My little wanderer has been quite fascinated by you and your Union. He wishes for us to join with you. I am not yet convinced and would need more time to consider it. I do wish for you to come back soon. He will be ready even if I am not.”

“It’s a big decision and we have only just met a few hours ago,” understood Vixen.

“Come back in 200 of your hours, I will know by then one way or the other.”

“So the leviathan is letting us go finally?” interrupted Chunky.

“You know she heard that don’t you?” informed Vixen, making sure to toggle the live transmission off first.

“She….did?” replied a  stunned Chunky, looking down at the comms indicator on his console confirming that it was still live. “Uh…….uh……”

“Leviathan…..what is this word?” inquired the life form innocently.

“It’s, uh…...a word from ancient Terra, our homeworld. It means,um…..sea monster or, uh…...really big creature,” explained Chunky nervously.

“Interesting,” stated the life form.

“Anywho, we will rendezvous in orbit around your gas giant in 200 hours. Again, it’s been great talking with you,” said Vixen in hopes of changing the subject.

“It has been enjoyable. We await your return. May your sleep bring you to new stars,” replied the life form as it rotated it’s huge body to head for it’s giant home.

Vixen did the same except she headed for interstellar space. They would take a less direct course home as per First Contact protocol, incase they were being followed. “You are in so much trouble when we get home,” she scolded her copilot as they jumped into quasi-space.

“It has been enjoyable. We await your return. May your sleep bring you to new stars,” came the final words over the comms. It was a good First Contact. Pilots weren’t known for verbal diplomacy, but Vixen had done well.

However, the confrontation with the Gax bothered him. It was the third time they had interacted with them and the third time they had shot at each other. He didn’t even communicate with them before taking the first shot. His mind told him he was doing it wrong, but his gut said otherwise. He would need to try and sort out relations diplomatically again soon.

“What are your thoughts, Mr. Freeman,” asked Dante.

“It could have gone better, but the outcome looks positive, sir,” said the silver man dryly.

“And of these life forms?”

“They seem trustworthy, but we only just met them and know very little about them. It is likely too early to draw any meaningful conclusions, Captain.”

“I suppose the same might be true for our asylum petitioners,” commented Dante. The thirty or so former crew of the Gax Imperium had been placed in the brig awaiting Dante’s final decision. Only a two were actually Gax, the rest being made up of several other species. From the intel they’d given, the Imperium was built upon the subjugation and enslavement of other species along with the lowest caste of Gax society. “However, I don’t believe I can deny their request.”

“Have you made a decision, sir?” inquired Freeman.

“I have. I am officially granting their request. I want them moved to quarters, aboard ship, and given something to do. Make sure someone is keeping an eye on them. Those that wish to leave us, see if we can get an idea of where they would like to go. If it’s not too far or too dangerous we’ll do our best to get them there.”

“Very good, sir,” was the only response. Freeman had already made it clear that he thought the petitioners should be kept in the same condition as the Gax officers they’d captured. Zero-point stasis.

“The Conn is yours,” ordered Dante before retreating to his Ready Room. There was so much to do and yet he could do very little except wait for things to get done. They had been in Hell’s Cradle for three long weeks and it would likely be another three weeks before Harvard would be ready to leave under her own power. He’d nearly killed himself the first week trying to micromanage everything. Commander Relis had reminded him to focus on the big picture after ordering him to take a day off. That had been a long day.

Sitting down at his desk, Dante skimmed the engineering report from that morning. Two ISAH Pods would be ready to install after Deep Night. Ross assures me they’ll be as good as the originals, unlike the first one he rushed, he thought. It had barely got them to Hell’s Cradle and then down to the surface before becoming unusable. He’d learned so much from the experience he had to scrap his embryonic failures and start over. Both Wolfcraft were detached for survey and patrol missions, the civilian assemblage was removed too. Effectively stranding Harvard, but work had increased 3 fold in nearly every area.

Mayor Bi, had also sent an update on the civilian efforts, which Dante skimmed next. Bi happily reported the first birth since they’d arrived in Triangulum, and that the tomatoes were beginning to ripen in the greenhouses. Already, he was requesting to use the nanite factories still aboard ship for any number of ambitious projects. The one Dante had set aside for exclusive civilian use had been one of the better ones aboard and had been in continuous use since it had been moved to the….settlement. The cluster of prefab buildings with connecting tubes wasn't anything like a town or even a village. An industrial complex might have been more accurate with the MCH refinery attached. They had only just completed assembling everything in time for this Deep Night. It housed only  five thousand beings at present, but the plan was to double that before the next Deep Night and have all the civilians housed in 3 months with appropriate infrastructure. Construction was likely to dig down rather than out but it would be sufficient as a colony truly began to take hold.

The most disturbing report was the one not present. The USS Yuiika had gone dark shortly after passing the edge of the galaxy. Analysis indicated that she had still been well within the range of her last communication buoy. While no verbal communication had passed between the Harvard and Yuiika since the latter's departure, the computronics had been exchanging information on navigation and the systems they’d been visiting. Even that had terminated. There were only 2 possible reasons for this sudden silence. Either the ship was running silent by choice, or she’d been sunk. Neither bode well.

Where are you Christine, thought Dante before returning to his work.

“Lt Victoria Everett, reporting,” announced Vixen from the doorway to the Captain’s Ready Room.

“Come in Ms. Vixen. I was just going over your report. You did well out there,” said Captain Vento, “I’m just trying to get your impression of this life form. You know, the stuff that doesn’t end up in a report.”

“She’s an amazing individual, sir. I’ll help anyway I can,” replied Vixen.

“As is quite evident from your report. First, do you think they are trustworthy?”

“Yes, sir,” stated Vixen swiftly and decisively.

“No hesitation, good. What do you think their motives are for wanting citizenship?”

“Loneliness, for the most part, Captain. It feels like they’ve been alone for a long time. Wanderers, the males, are biologically programmed to travel and explore, but they both seem to like the idea of something bigger than themselves or even their own species. The concept of serving others and protecting the whole seemed to really resonate with them.”

“In your report you said they didn’t give any indication of having any ill-intent toward the Union. What does your gut tell you?”

“My gut, sir?”

“Yes. Your gut. As a pilot, after all your training and instruction, it’s all up to you in a split second decision. Would you shoot, or would you veer off?”

“Shoot…..I would shoot,” replied Vixen. It was clearly not what the captain had been expecting. “That is to say, sir, this is an opportunity we can’t afford to pass up. We need help and allies from this region of space. They might not know a lot, sir, but it’s not worth it to miss it this time and have to come around for a second pass.”

“I think you might be right on that,” mused Captain Vento. “Thank you, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed.”

All the way back down to the pilot’s lounge, something had been bothering Vixen. She couldn’t quite place it until she was greeted by some of her friends already seated at one of the booths.

“Vixen! So how did it go?” called Chunky. Despite his name he was only a small, bony man. His call sign had originated from his severe case of SAS, Space Adaptation Syndrome. He needed meds every time he went Zero-G or he’d get…..chunky, all over his helmet.

“As to be expected…….Has anyone had a superior officer use their call sign before?” asked Vixen finally voicing the nagging itch in the back of her mind.

“Only over comms, and never in person. Why?” replied Razer getting straight to the point.

“Was it the Captain? It was him, I knew it! He makes mistakes like that all the time,” said Chunky in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Be careful Chunky, that was awfully close to being disrespectful. He might be new to being a Captain, but he’s still our superior officer,” countered Razer.

“He does have small slip ups, but they rarely happen more than once. Considering everything, he’s doing a remarkable job…...This time was different…..he called me Ms. Vixen,” added Vixen.

“He probably doesn’t know how to talk to pilots, big deal,” said Chunky.

“Then you’d think he’d just use the generic Ms. Everett or just Lieutenant if that were the case,” commented Razer.

“That was my thinking, he even dismissed me as just Lieutenant,” said Vixen.

“So?......What am I missing here?” asked Chunky cluelessly.

“I don’t know what it means, but it means something,” said Razer as if Chunky hadn’t spoken.

“You don’t think he was a pilot do you?” said Vixen.

“He’s too young to have been a pilot,” denounced Razer taking a swig from his drink.

“True,” conceded Vixen sipping her own drink.

Both sat in silent thought before Chunky broke in, “What if he didn’t finish training?”

“So what’s the verdict?” asked Vixen as she ran her hand affectionately along the hull of the Type 1X.

Commander Ross was going over the data from the flight test with a couple of the flight crew. Beyond the look of extreme concentration, it was impossible to guess what the Commander might be thinking.

“Really good, actually. There are some nanofractures that will need to be addressed. Which means she’ll need to be stripped, fixed, then reassembled. The ISAH pod malfunction wasn’t serious, but it could have been deadly had that happened in a serious dog fight. And there are only 63 other red flags,” came Commander Ross’s eventual reply.

“And that’s good?” scoffed Vixen.

“You didn’t die. She made it back in one piece, under her own power. The issues are all fixable. So, yes lieutenant, that’s really good. I should get an award for this……You can have her back in about a week. Until then you’ll have to slum it with the most advanced fighter-craft ever designed,” retorted the Commander before leaving to perform some other miracle.

That man is a genius, thought Vixen as she gave the fighter one last caress. Since the Type 1X was grounded then she’d be flying escort on the return visit with the strange lifeforms she’s encountered. If the Type 1X had been given the green light the plan was for her to fly with Commander Asher in the back seat. Instead a patchwork FCT, First Contact Team, would be going in an equally patchwork science shuttle. From what she’d heard Asher was the closest thing to a First Contact Specialist, which every ship was supposed to have. Harvard had lost her’s to the Yuiika, so Commander Asher would have to do. As for Vixen, she’d been chosen because she had already spoken with the lifeform and her presence would hopefully ensure that the squints would be well received. =Triangulum Files=

Episode 4: Strays
Three weeks had passed since the USS Harvard had first entered Hell’s Cradle. For Vixen those three weeks had been slow, dull and boring. If she wasn’t in the cockpit running a system patrol or surveying some system, she was sitting in the pilot’s lounge or running a sim for the bazillionth time. With only 5 fighters and 21 pilots her turn to sit in the hot seat only came around a couple of times during those three weeks. If it hadn’t been for the dedicated, and almost as bored as her, flight technicians she would still be waiting her turn instead of flying.

It was another standard run out to a system to drop a sensor buoy and to scout out a couple of other systems on the way back, but she was flying and that seemed to be the only thing that mattered at that point.

Her wings for this run were those of the newly minted Wolfcraft Type 1X. With design help from the pilots, spare time donated by the flight technicians and other engineering staff, and permission from the higher ups, they had built her from the ground up. They didn’t have detailed designs to work from, but most could take apart a real one and put it back together sleeping, with the lights off, and in Zero-G. Everyone was confident it could be done, so they blazed ahead.

The original Wolfcraft design was a very sturdy and reliable model. Features included three oversized ISAH Pods, triple redundant Shimmer Shields, four Deuterium Slug Cannons, two MILAN ship-to-ship missiles, and twin Black Light FTL Gatlings, and a single seat cockpit. A formidable fighter when in the right hands…..which was every time it left the hanger. Why change anything if it was great the way it was? First of all, you don’t. Fighters like that are great for attack or defence, so taking any away would be just plain stupid. However, the Wolfcraft weren’t being used for attack or defence much. Mostly they were being used as survey or scout craft. Despite not being specifically designed for those tasks, they were still performing as good as their equipment would let them.

On the Type 1X, the Deuterium Slug Cannons were removed completely to make room for an enhanced sensor suite. This lightened the load considerably, as they weren’t being used in favor of the munition-less Black Light FTL Gatlings anyway. No one wanted to get yelled at for wasting resources, so when it came down to a choice everyone steered clear of the DSCs…...unless the situation specifically called for it…...which hadn’t really happened yet. Also the cockpit was expanded to two seats, using the designs already on file. An additional person allowed for training of new pilots, company on long missions, or a specialist who could both see the enhanced sensor data and see it in person so their was less confusion on where to go and what to do. Two smaller ISAH Pods were also added for increased speed, especially over long distances. Hardpoints were added around the cockpit and on the underside of the craft. Both would allow for easy mounting to objects or objects to them for special missions…….like having to tow the Harvard again. Or for carrying additional cargo, scientific equipment or weapons packages. The options were endless. For now, atleast, Vixen and her co-pilot, Chunky, had to get through the test flight and get back to the ship before the dream could go further.

“Harvard to Vixen. Divert to TG-288, a ship just jumped into the system. You are to hold at the perimeter and wait for further instructions,” came over the comms.

“Acknowledged,” replied Vixen.

“Do you think it’s the Imperials?” wondered Chunky.

“Probably. They’ve been popping up everywhere,” replied Vixen absently as she adjusted their course to head for the designated system. They were only a couple of light years away, so the trip was short before they dropped back into normal space. In the distance the star at the center of the system glinted dimly.

Vixen pulled up the telemetry from the Union sensor buoy in the system. True enough, there was a Gax ship near one of the gas giants. From the exterior markings it didn’t appear to be military, but its shape and design were clearly Gax. What was odd was that it was doing an atmospheric braking maneuver. It was an efficient yet brutal way to decrease speed by using the friction of the atmosphere against the hull to slow the vessel down. The system had been surveyed weeks ago and there hadn’t been any indication that anyone had been anywhere in the system. So what could the Gax ship be heading for?

It was nearly two hours before anything changed. The Gax, slowly making it’s long elliptical orbit around the gas giant, and with Vixen and Chunky watching on, nearly bored to tears.

“Second contact in the system,” announced Chunky eagerly.

“”Hm?” replied Vixen.

“Where did it come from?” said Chunky, mostly to himself.

Finally seeing what he was seeing, Vixen was just as confused as her copilot. Coming out of the clouds was large ship like object. It had a wide, birdlike shape with a long trailing…..tail of sorts. The information being gathered by the sensor buoy were odd. The propulsion was a crude hydrogen fueled rocket system, no sign of gravity manipulation was detected, and the hull was made up with a unique molecular structure that the computronic couldn’t figure out without more data.

What was more puzzling were the radio signals that the Gax ship had been sending out since it had arrived in the system and had only just reached the sensor buoy. They weren’t like the previous ones they’d detected or received in the past. A pattern was detected, but it almost seemed to be in a different language entirely.

As the new ship pulled out and away from the atmosphere the Gax ship immediately changed course for an intercept. Slowly the two craft drew closer. It took over three hours more until either ship changed course. This time it was the new ship which diverted sharply back towards the gas giant. The Gax responded by launching a torpedo at the new ship which landed a direct impact on the engines causing the ship to begin a slow tumble and altering its trajectory. As the ships closed within 20 km of each other, the Gax ship shot again, what at first appeared to be more torpedoes. They were in fact harpoon like weapons which imbedded in the other ship while still being attached to the Gax ship via a cable of sorts. Once attached the Gax ship altered course away from the gas giant, slowly dragging the other ship with it.

As Vixen watched the events unfold with fascination she only vaguely became aware that a second set of signals was being detected by the buoy. These ones had a pattern as well which was very similar to the ones being broadcast by the Gax ship, but were infinitely more complex and dynamic. The computronic aboard the Harvard had been busy analyzing the signals from both ships since they had been first detected along with all the rest of the data collected by the sensor buoy. Finally having completed its analysis the information was displayed on Vixen’s console.

Probability object being an organic construct: 89%

Probability object being an organic life form: 61%

Probability object being intelligent: 98%

Probability object being sentient: Inconclusive

Conclusion: Object is most likely an organic life form possessing advanced complex intelligence bordering on sentience. Further data is required.

“That thing’s alive,” exclaimed Vixen. With renewed fascination quickly becoming horror, she watched on.

Once both ships were a sufficient distance from the giant planet the Gax ship began to slowly reel the other ship/creature closer. As the gap closed to within a kilometer additional harpoons were deployed. These were much slower and had maneuverable tips which moved to the opposite side of the ship/creature before they too embedded themselves.

Pain response detected.

Confirmed: Object is an organic lifeform.

Confirmed: Life form displays complex intelligence.

Probability life form being sentient: 38%

Language Analysis Complete - Language contains complex concepts and references to self.

Translation: In progress.

“Harvard, requesting permission to enter system to conduct close range scans of the Gax ship and the life form,” called Vixen.

“Hold, Vixen,” replied the flight boss aboard the Harvard. After a brief pause he continued, “Harvard Actual believes life form to be sentient. You are to enter the system and intercept the Gax ship. Targets will be painted. Should you take fire you are authorized to disable all weapon systems aboard the Gax ship.”

“Acknowledged,” replied Vixen as she prepped for a quasi-space jump.

“Good hunting.”

“Sensor suite calibrated for close-range sweep of organic structures,” called Chunky from the back seat as they briefly entered quasi-space.

When they re-entered normal space, they were still several hundred kilometers from the Gax ship. Despite this, they were within weapons range in only a couple of seconds. FTL cannons lanced out at the harpoon anchor points on the Gax ship. Before the ship even began to react the life form had been freed from its captors. As Vixen swung wide to assess her handy work and see how the Gax would respond, two torpedoes were launched at her. Collision alarms blared and she broke left, evading the first torpedo entirely, but the second one had gotten in close and detonated only meters off the hull. The shimmer shields deflecting the blast without difficulty.

Flipping a 180, Vixen raced toward the Gax ship, who only realized then that it should have started running from the beginning. Again, faster-than-light bolts of energy raped across the hull of Gax ship, as the fighter orbited only 10 meters out. The Gax ship finally began a mad dash towards a hyperjump point, warnings began screaming at Vixen for attention.

“Warning catastrophic engine malfunction imminent. Emergency shutdown initiated,” announced the computronic as the engines suddenly cut out.

“What happened?,” demanded Vixen.

“One of the ISAH pods was thrown out of alignment so the computronic locked down the engines,” reported Chunky.

“Looks like it’s one of the smaller ones. I think I can get the computronic to bypass it. We’ll fly home on four engines, it’s just going to take the computronic some time to recalibrate,” announced Vixen.

“Vixen, it looks like we’ve got an audience,” said Chunky.

“Hm?....Oh, you’re right,” blurted Vixen as she looked off to her right. Sitting about 800 meters out was the life form pointing straight at them. The thing was immense at this distance with the main body measuring nearly 50 meters across with 100 meter wing-like appendages off to either side and two scoop-like openings were on either side of the main body. Tense seconds passed as the pilots watched the life form and the life form seemed to be watching the pilots.

Glancing back to her controls, Vixen saw that they were the focus of an intense barrage of shortwave radio signals across multiple spectrums. “This is a First Contact situation isn’t it,” she redundantly asked her copilot.

“Yep,” answered Chunky.

“And since I got the stick I get the…...honor,” gulped Vixen.

“Yep.”

“Can you remember your First Contact training from the academy?” hoped Vixen.

“Nope.”

“Thanx. You’ve been a great help.”

“You’re welcome,” answered Chunky innocently.

Summoning what little she could remember of that critical First Contact training, Vixen selected a shortwave bandwidth that seemed to be receiving more attention than the others and began having the computronic begin broadcasting. It would first begin to build a language with the life form through the nearly universal constant of mathematics. From the basics of numbers to the more complicated concepts like geometry. Each question and answer brought the computronic to a greater understanding of the life form and how it communicates. This critical first step could take several hours even days or months depending on how different the life form was from the base languages it would utilize.

Expecting that this was likely to take a while, Vixen settled in for the long haul. To her great surprise the creature began requesting more information on a second frequency  and then a third and forth until the computronic had maxed out the number of frequencies that the communications hardware could broadcast and receive simultaneously. Within minutes they were beyond simple math, and within an hour they finishing the more complicated maths. By the time two and a half hours had passed the computronic had a base language established and the real work was to begin…...direct communication.

“Greetings. I am Victoria Everett, a pilot for the United Stars of the Galaxy. We are available….uh, I mean, open to peaceful communication and…..stuff.”

All transmissions ceased from the life form. A minute passed before a reply came back in a simpler form to the previous signals and on the same frequency that Vixen had used. “I. AM. [ERROR]. I. AM. A. [ERROR]. I. AM. HAPPY. WE. COMMUNICATE. I. AM. HAPPY. YOU. COME.”

“I’m happy we can communicate too,” replied Vixen, uncertain what else she should say.

“WHERE DOES VICTORIA EVERETT COME FROM?” came the quick reply from the life form.

“I come from very far away. But my friends and I are staying in a system close to here. Where do you come from?”

“I COME FROM [ERROR]. I HAVE NEVER LEFT.”

“Your names for things are too complex for our understanding. Are you from this system?”

A pause before it replied, “YOU THINK MORE FOCUSED THAN I. I WILL TRY TO SPEAK MORE FOCUSED FOR YOU. YES, I WAS BORN IN THIS STAR SYSTEM. I AM THE ONLY ONE LEFT.”

“I am sorry to hear you have been alone. Is it because of the Gax, the other ship we chased away? Is it because of them that you are alone?” asked Vixen tentatively.

“IN PART. THEY HAVE COME BEFORE AND TAKEN MY [ERROR]......MY SISTERS. BUT THE WANDERERS HAVE NOT COME SO THEY COULD NOT BEAR CHILDREN.”

“Wanderers?”

“YES. I AM [ERROR].....FEMALE. WANDERERS ARE [ERROR]......MALE.”

“Oh, so where do the males come from?”

“THEY WANDER THE STARS LIKE VICTORIA EVERETT AND THE ONES YOU CALL GAX.”

“You mean they travel from other star systems?” exclaimed Vixen in disbelief.

“YES.”

“How is that even possible?”

“YOUR MIND IS TOO FOCUSED. I COULD NOT EXPLAIN FOCUSED ENOUGH. I WILL TELL YOUR BIG MIND. MAYBE BIG MIND CAN TELL FOCUSED MIND.”

On a second frequency the computronic began to receive massive amounts of information. Most of it was some very complicated math. What little Vixen did manage to pick out she recognized from her academy days and dealt with faster-than-light travel similar to the ISAH drives used by the Union to travel through quasi-space.

“WE LEARNED THIS OVER MANY [ERROR],” but this time the life form sent over a data packet with reference data to describe the word that she had used. The computronic was then able to simplify it to, “THOUSANDS OF YEARS.”

“The “big mind” you refer to is our computronic. It helps us to make calculations that would take us a long time to do ourselves,” corrected Vixen. This only seemed to confuse the life form. It requested clarification from the computronic which obliged by sending a data packet of its own to the life form.

“SO VICTORIA EVERETT IS NOT THE [object] AT [spacial coordinates]?”

“No, I am inside the object you’re talking about, It’s a ship…..an artificial construct we use to get between stars. I ride inside it and control it,” several more data packets passing between them.

“IT IS IMPRESSIVE THAT SUCH SMALL [beings] CAN CROSS BETWEEN STARS. IT TAKES MANY YEARS TO GATHER ENOUGH MATERIALS TO GET TO OTHER STARS. IT MUST ALL BE STORED INSIDE SO THE WANDERERS ARE MUCH LARGER THAN YOUR SHIP. ONCE THEY LEAVE THEY MUST SLEEP THE MANY YEARS IT WILL TAKE THEM TO GET THERE. IF THEY DID NOT THERE WOULD NOT BE ENOUGH FOR THEM TO LIVE.”

“If it’s possible to leave this system, why have you stayed?”

“I DO NOT HAVE THE PROPER ORGAN TO LEAVE THE SYSTEM. I WOULD NEED TO GROW IT FIRST. HOWEVER, I AM TOO BIG TO MAKE THE JOURNEY. I HAVE GROWN LARGE TO PROVIDE ROOM FOR MY CHILDREN. I CAN NOT GROW SMALLER. IT WOULD TAKE TOO MUCH [energy] TO LEAVE THE SYSTEM. I WOULD NOT SURVIVE THE JOURNEY. INSTEAD I GROW MY CHILDREN. I HOPE THEY WILL TELL THE WANDERERS TO COME BACK.”

“You have children?”

“THEY ARE NOT BORN YET. ONE IS ALMOST READY. HE WILL BE A WANDERER. HE SAYS HE LIKES YOUR [voice].”

“He can hear me?”

“YES. WE CARRY OUR YOUNG LONGER THAN THEY WOULD NEED IF THEY WERE TO SIMPLY LIVE IN [a gas giant]. IT GIVES THEM TIME TO LEARN. DURING THAT TIME THE MOTHER AND CHILD CAN COMMUNICATE AND THE CHILD CAN SENSE THROUGH THE MOTHERS SENSES. HE HAS BEEN LISTENING FROM THE BEGINNING.”

The two continued talking for another 4 hours much to Chunky’s dismay. The computronic also got quite the workout as it was continually bombarded by questions while the two were still talking. It’s questions were more about the Union and how it functioned. However it was inevitably time to part ways.

“It has been a pleasure meeting you. If you like, we can come back again. I’m sure there is so much that we can learn from each other,” said Vixen.

“Oh yes,” replied the life form, her communication having improved exponentially. “My little wanderer has been quite fascinated by you and your Union. He wishes for us to join with you. I am not yet convinced and would need more time to consider it. I do wish for you to come back soon. He will be ready even if I am not.”

“It’s a big decision and we have only just met a few hours ago,” understood Vixen.

“Come back in 200 of your hours, I will know by then one way or the other.”

“So the leviathan is letting us go finally?” interrupted Chunky.

“You know she heard that don’t you?” informed Vixen, making sure to toggle the live transmission off first.

“She….did?” replied a  stunned Chunky, looking down at the comms indicator on his console confirming that it was still live. “Uh…….uh……”

“Leviathan…..what is this word?” inquired the life form innocently.

“It’s, uh…...a word from ancient Terra, our homeworld. It means,um…..sea monster or, uh…...really big creature,” explained Chunky nervously.

“Interesting,” stated the life form.

“Anywho, we will rendezvous in orbit around your gas giant in 200 hours. Again, it’s been great talking with you,” said Vixen in hopes of changing the subject.

“It has been enjoyable. We await your return. May your sleep bring you to new stars,” replied the life form as it rotated it’s huge body to head for it’s giant home.

Vixen did the same except she headed for interstellar space. They would take a less direct course home as per First Contact protocol, incase they were being followed. “You are in so much trouble when we get home,” she scolded her copilot as they jumped into quasi-space.

“It has been enjoyable. We await your return. May your sleep bring you to new stars,” came the final words over the comms. It was a good First Contact. Pilots weren’t known for verbal diplomacy, but Vixen had done well.

However, the confrontation with the Gax bothered him. It was the third time they had interacted with them and the third time they had shot at each other. He didn’t even communicate with them before taking the first shot. His mind told him he was doing it wrong, but his gut said otherwise. He would need to try and sort out relations diplomatically again soon.

“What are your thoughts, Mr. Freeman,” asked Dante.

“It could have gone better, but the outcome looks positive, sir,” said the silver man dryly.

“And of these life forms?”

“They seem trustworthy, but we only just met them and know very little about them. It is likely too early to draw any meaningful conclusions, Captain.”

“I suppose the same might be true for our asylum petitioners,” commented Dante. The thirty or so former crew of the Gax Imperium had been placed in the brig awaiting Dante’s final decision. Only a two were actually Gax, the rest being made up of several other species. From the intel they’d given, the Imperium was built upon the subjugation and enslavement of other species along with the lowest caste of Gax society. “However, I don’t believe I can deny their request.”

“Have you made a decision, sir?” inquired Freeman.

“I have. I am officially granting their request. I want them moved to quarters, aboard ship, and given something to do. Make sure someone is keeping an eye on them. Those that wish to leave us, see if we can get an idea of where they would like to go. If it’s not too far or too dangerous we’ll do our best to get them there.”

“Very good, sir,” was the only response. Freeman had already made it clear that he thought the petitioners should be kept in the same condition as the Gax officers they’d captured. Zero-point stasis.

“The Conn is yours,” ordered Dante before retreating to his Ready Room. There was so much to do and yet he could do very little except wait for things to get done. They had been in Hell’s Cradle for three long weeks and it would likely be another three weeks before Harvard would be ready to leave under her own power. He’d nearly killed himself the first week trying to micromanage everything. Commander Relis had reminded him to focus on the big picture after ordering him to take a day off. That had been a long day.

Sitting down at his desk, Dante skimmed the engineering report from that morning. Two ISAH Pods would be ready to install after Deep Night. Ross assures me they’ll be as good as the originals, unlike the first one he rushed, he thought. It had barely got them to Hell’s Cradle and then down to the surface before becoming unusable. He’d learned so much from the experience he had to scrap his embryonic failures and start over. Both Wolfcraft were detached for survey and patrol missions, the civilian assemblage was removed too. Effectively stranding Harvard, but work had increased 3 fold in nearly every area.

Mayor Bi, had also sent an update on the civilian efforts, which Dante skimmed next. Bi happily reported the first birth since they’d arrived in Triangulum, and that the tomatoes were beginning to ripen in the greenhouses. Already, he was requesting to use the nanite factories still aboard ship for any number of ambitious projects. The one Dante had set aside for exclusive civilian use had been one of the better ones aboard and had been in continuous use since it had been moved to the….settlement. The cluster of prefab buildings with connecting tubes wasn't anything like a town or even a village. An industrial complex might have been more accurate with the MCH refinery attached. They had only just completed assembling everything in time for this Deep Night. It housed only  five thousand beings at present, but the plan was to double that before the next Deep Night and have all the civilians housed in 3 months with appropriate infrastructure. Construction was likely to dig down rather than out but it would be sufficient as a colony truly began to take hold.

The most disturbing report was the one not present. The USS Yuiika had gone dark shortly after passing the edge of the galaxy. Analysis indicated that she had still been well within the range of her last communication buoy. While no verbal communication had passed between the Harvard and Yuiika since the latter's departure, the computronics had been exchanging information on navigation and the systems they’d been visiting. Even that had terminated. There were only 2 possible reasons for this sudden silence. Either the ship was running silent by choice, or she’d been sunk. Neither bode well.

Where are you Christine, thought Dante before returning to his work.

“Lt Victoria Everett, reporting,” announced Vixen from the doorway to the Captain’s Ready Room.

“Come in Ms. Vixen. I was just going over your report. You did well out there,” said Captain Vento, “I’m just trying to get your impression of this life form. You know, the stuff that doesn’t end up in a report.”

“She’s an amazing individual, sir. I’ll help anyway I can,” replied Vixen.

“As is quite evident from your report. First, do you think they are trustworthy?”

“Yes, sir,” stated Vixen swiftly and decisively.

“No hesitation, good. What do you think their motives are for wanting citizenship?”

“Loneliness, for the most part, Captain. It feels like they’ve been alone for a long time. Wanderers, the males, are biologically programmed to travel and explore, but they both seem to like the idea of something bigger than themselves or even their own species. The concept of serving others and protecting the whole seemed to really resonate with them.”

“In your report you said they didn’t give any indication of having any ill-intent toward the Union. What does your gut tell you?”

“My gut, sir?”

“Yes. Your gut. As a pilot, after all your training and instruction, it’s all up to you in a split second decision. Would you shoot, or would you veer off?”

“Shoot…..I would shoot,” replied Vixen. It was clearly not what the captain had been expecting. “That is to say, sir, this is an opportunity we can’t afford to pass up. We need help and allies from this region of space. They might not know a lot, sir, but it’s not worth it to miss it this time and have to come around for a second pass.”

“I think you might be right on that,” mused Captain Vento. “Thank you, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed.”

All the way back down to the pilot’s lounge, something had been bothering Vixen. She couldn’t quite place it until she was greeted by some of her friends already seated at one of the booths.

“Vixen! So how did it go?” called Chunky. Despite his name he was only a small, bony man. His call sign had originated from his severe case of SAS, Space Adaptation Syndrome. He needed meds every time he went Zero-G or he’d get…..chunky, all over his helmet.

“As to be expected…….Has anyone had a superior officer use their call sign before?” asked Vixen finally voicing the nagging itch in the back of her mind.

“Only over comms, and never in person. Why?” replied Razer getting straight to the point.

“Was it the Captain? It was him, I knew it! He makes mistakes like that all the time,” said Chunky in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Be careful Chunky, that was awfully close to being disrespectful. He might be new to being a Captain, but he’s still our superior officer,” countered Razer.

“He does have small slip ups, but they rarely happen more than once. Considering everything, he’s doing a remarkable job…...This time was different…..he called me Ms. Vixen,” added Vixen.

“He probably doesn’t know how to talk to pilots, big deal,” said Chunky.

“Then you’d think he’d just use the generic Ms. Everett or just Lieutenant if that were the case,” commented Razer.

“That was my thinking, he even dismissed me as just Lieutenant,” said Vixen.

“So?......What am I missing here?” asked Chunky cluelessly.

“I don’t know what it means, but it means something,” said Razer as if Chunky hadn’t spoken.

“You don’t think he was a pilot do you?” said Vixen.

“He’s too young to have been a pilot,” denounced Razer taking a swig from his drink.

“True,” conceded Vixen sipping her own drink.

Both sat in silent thought before Chunky broke in, “What if he didn’t finish training?”

“So what’s the verdict?” asked Vixen as she ran her hand affectionately along the hull of the Type 1X.

Commander Ross was going over the data from the flight test with a couple of the flight crew. Beyond the look of extreme concentration, it was impossible to guess what the Commander might be thinking.

“Really good, actually. There are some nanofractures that will need to be addressed. Which means she’ll need to be stripped, fixed, then reassembled. The ISAH pod malfunction wasn’t serious, but it could have been deadly had that happened in a serious dog fight. And there are only 63 other red flags,” came Commander Ross’s eventual reply.

“And that’s good?” scoffed Vixen.

“You didn’t die. She made it back in one piece, under her own power. The issues are all fixable. So, yes lieutenant, that’s really good. I should get an award for this……You can have her back in about a week. Until then you’ll have to slum it with the most advanced fighter-craft ever designed,” retorted the Commander before leaving to perform some other miracle.

That man is a genius, thought Vixen as she gave the fighter one last caress. Since the Type 1X was grounded then she’d be flying escort on the return visit with the strange lifeforms she’s encountered. If the Type 1X had been given the green light the plan was for her to fly with Commander Asher in the back seat. Instead a patchwork FCT, First Contact Team, would be going in an equally patchwork science shuttle. From what she’d heard Asher was the closest thing to a First Contact Specialist, which every ship was supposed to have. Harvard had lost her’s to the Yuiika, so Commander Asher would have to do. As for Vixen, she’d been chosen because she had already spoken with the lifeform and her presence would hopefully ensure that the squints would be well received.