Alien Fireworks

Chapter One

The Close Call

The captain of the Nos was awakened by an alarm blaring throughout the ship. It was a standard red alert, one that didn't give any indication of what was wrong. All that it indicated was that something was wrong.

Oh, what now? he grumbled.

He was annoyed that the alarm didn't provide more information so that he might address the issue without having to get up. It could have been something simple, like the helmsman accidentally hitting the button. Or something critical, like the proximity sensors detecting an imminent impact with an unexpected planet. As the alarm continued without any further announcement, or impacts, he figured it was more likely the former. The automated alarms were usually more helpful, though they mostly sounded when it was too late to do anything about them.

Reluctant to leave his comfortable bed, in the off chance that it was just a mistake, he rolled across it towards the opening. He didn’t have the headroom to sit up properly within the wall cavity that his bed was in. In his half-asleep state, he slipped off the edge and flopped onto the floor. Grumbling, he pushed himself up to his feet. The bridge was just around the corner from his cabin, so he didn’t have to go far.

Status report, he ordered, without bothering to look to see if anyone was on the bridge. Someone was always on the bridge. What's going on?

Sir, we got hit by something, the helmsman on watch said. The computer registered it as a wave, though I’m not sure what kind of wave would be able to travel through space like that. It knocked us out of FTL.

What the hell do you mean by a wave? the captain barked.

I don’t know, sir. That was just what the readout was saying before our instruments cut out. I wasn’t able to pull any new data beyond that.

Well, bring them back online, he yelled at the man, as he fell into his captain's chair.

He always hated having to tell his men how to do their own jobs. Most of them are well experienced at their assigned tasks. However, he didn't quite remember seeing this helmsman before. With a quick glance at the clock on his screen, he knew it was in the middle of third watch, the overnight watch. Those soldiers stuck on third watch usually had earned it at some point, and usually from continued incompetence. Nothing this helmsman was doing changed the captain’s opinion in the slightest.

Reboot the system if you have to.

Yes, sir, the helmsman said. His voice was a mixture of annoyance and panic.

The captain glared down at the man, wondering what exactly he had to be annoyed about. He hadn't been the one to be woken up from a perfectly good dream.

The instruments should be coming back online right... now.

The captain had to hand it to the man. He timed that perfectly, cueing for the instruments the moment they came back online. However, once they had, neither had much time to congratulate each other. As the display screens flickered back to life, with readouts from each of the detection systems lining the display, it was filled with a darkness that was quite obviously not the emptiness of space. The headlights of the ship snapped on only two seconds later, falling upon the gigantic form of the asteroid. The thing was a world killer, and would barely notice their presence as it rolled into the Nos, as if the ship were nothing but an insect.

Turn the ship, the captain screamed at the top of his lungs. He was no longer half asleep, clutching at the armrests of his chairs as if that would help move the ship out of the way. Up full power.

I'm already at up full power, captain, the helmsman said, all sense of military bearing forgotten in the face of certain death. We don't have enough thrust. We're going to hit.

Well, hit the afterburners, then, the captain yelled. It was the first thing that he thought of other than the silent scream that engulfed his entire mind.

The afterburners? The helmsman looked around his control terminal for the right button.

The captain gave an annoyed huff as he jumped forward, using enough force to break free of the artificial gravity for a moment before it grabbed hold of him again. He had made the jump more times than he would have liked, always having to correct the errors of his underlings. His hands went through the overly practiced procedure to initiate the afterburners before his feet even hit the floor.

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he saw the readout for the afterburners pop up over the main sub-light controls. With the afterburners running, they wouldn’t have much control over direction. The main display showed the corresponding increase in speed, as the new source of thrust moved them away from the asteroid. Collision Alert popped up on the display, as the ship’s sensors noticed the impending impact. The automated alert replaced the manual one, as the computers sounded the alarm throughout the ship. Had he not been on the bridge already, it would have been too late for him to have done much about it.

The captain held his breath as the proximity sensors counted down the distance to the asteroid. He feared it wouldn't be enough, but it was all they had. The only other option he could think of was venting the entire ship to get just a little more thrust, and that would defeat the purpose of saving it. The helmsman's hand was on the signal to abandon the ship. However, the captain knew that, if they impacted with the asteroid, it would be too late to save anyone. The impact would take out half the ship, and the other half would just buckle in on itself. If the ship didn't make it, no one would survive.

As the proximity sensor slowly ticked to zero, a metal scraping echoed down the hallways to them. From how the metal grated, the captain was sure that they would make it past the asteroid with little more than scraped paint and a dinged hull. He knew his ship well enough to already know they would survive the encounter. But he had to wait for the scraping to stop, for the proximity sensor to start ticking back up again, before he could give the all clear. Before he could assure his men and women that they were going to live another day.

Once the scraping stopped, he hit the shipwide button in the corner of the display. Damage report, he called out. He knew that the damage control teams would already be at work looking for any effect that the asteroid would have had on the ship. He knew that his call was unnecessary, but it made him feel better to think that his booming voice would be enough to put them into motion. The first few reports were already ticking into the corresponding section of the display as he stood there, glaring down at the incompetent fool that almost cost all of them their lives.

What the hell was that, the captain yelled at the helmsman. How could you not have seen that asteroid coming at us? That thing was huge. And why weren't we in FTL?

Like I said. The helmsman’s voice quivered in fear. He kept his head low, staring into the display in front of him as he explained what happened. We were hit by some kind of wave. We were in FTL at the time, but it knocked us out when it hit us. The instruments were down when we came out, so there was no way for us to detect that asteroid.

Why didn't we detect the asteroid already, if it was in our flight path? We still would have hit it, just at FTL, which would have ended the ship a lot faster. We wouldn't have known what hit us until we were all dead. The instruments should have seen it coming.

If the instruments had detected the asteroid when the FTL path was charted, they must have calculated that the ship would have been able to deflect it with the FTL field, or skirt around it, or something. At least... at least that's what the textbooks say. The helmsman's voice tapered off near the end, as he lost confidence in his own words.

The textbooks? the captain asked, hesitantly. You mean... You are certified, right? That’s supposed to indicate that you’re ready to stand a watch without anyone looking over your shoulder. No one that isn’t certified should be at the helm alone. Or, was this a training session? Your instructor didn’t step out of the room or something stupid, did they? How many times have you been at the helm, soldier?

This is the fifth time, sir. I... I only got certified yesterday.

Well, congratulations. You're going to have the shortest certification in the history of the fleet.

The captain flopped back down in his chair, exhausted from the stress of the moment. He pulled up the schedule so he wouldn't need to ask the helmsman for his name. He should have known all his men from sight by now, especially after having left dry dock over eighteen months ago. But he was never good with names, especially with people that he wouldn't have interacted with on a regular basis. If the man hadn’t been on the bridge during one of his own watches, he wasn’t likely to run into him that often.

The schedule entry had a link to the man's record, to Grant's record, where the certification for helmsman was shown in blue, indicating that the certification was still probationary. He didn’t bother to look at the rest of the record, already knowing what he thought was all he needed to know. So, he missed a rather interesting little tidbit about the helmsman that may have stayed his hand. With three more clicks, the certification was completely scrubbed from his record. Grant would have to start all over again with the process, needing to take the eight-week long class from the beginning before being able to get certified again. Perhaps then he would know better than to risk the entire ship. His ship.

He clicked out of Grant’s record, back to his home display, just in time to see the last of the damage reports coming in. He gave a great sigh of relief when he saw that only one compartment had been breached during the interaction with the asteroid. This confirmed what he had known just by hearing the sounds of the asteroid scraping the hull. The compartment had already been sealed off from the rest of the ship long before the impact, so the decompression hadn’t gone any further. However, when he noticed which compartment it was, he glared back over at the idiot behind the helm.

Four more clicks brought the captain back over to the shipwide. He cleared his throat, hoping he won't sound hoarse from yelling at the young soldier, before clicking on the announcement system. This is Captain Stond. Due to the sloppiness of our helmsman… He paused, tempted to tell everyone the man's name, but decided not to. He figured that he had done enough damage by sending him back to the beginning of his class. We have only just avoided impact with a local asteroid. He clicked a few more buttons, double checking that his next statement was correct before continuing. The damage control team is already on site and they are repairing the minor breach in the hull. However, the damage that had been done was on the lower level of the docking bay. The helmsman will need to answer to the science faction for the loss of the mysterious fluid we collected on planet P1-028, as I assume that has been lost to space and the asteroid. I know this will be quite the blow to the scientists back home. However, we still have the alien ship from that planet. That should be enough to keep them busy for awhile and off our backs. Plus, there should be at least some residue left behind to study, especially on the alien ship. We will be hanging around this sector while we make repairs and verify that all systems are ready for FTL. I do apologize for the lost sleep— He glared over at Grant again, wishing he could go back to sleep himself. —but the ship comes first. That is all. Captain Stond out.

A hissing sound seemed to be coming from Grant as he hunched over his station, his shoulders moving in the silent sobs that racked him. This surprised him a bit. He hadn't thought his actions too harsh, but Grant seemed to be taking it harder than he should have been. The military faction had a bit of a tough love approach to things. It pushed the strong to greatness, the weak to leave. It was what Stond was brought up in, what was expected of him. If his men didn’t fear him, it could cost them dearly at the wrong opportunity. If it came between following orders and saving their own hide, his crew would take him out without a second thought.

And, yet, everything that happens on his ship all came down to Stond’s responsibility. No matter how qualified, or unqualified, the individuals involved. Without a strong, heavy hand, his career would be over. Assuming the ship wasn’t destroyed before they made it home. In which case it was more than his career.

When your relief comes, you will need to go back to the docking bay and have one of those pilots drop a gate on that asteroid while it is still in range, the captain said. He did the man a service by not mentioning anything about his crying. Not Cara, though. I’ve heard that she has this new AI she wants to test out. Just…one of those other guys. I can never remember their names.

Grant looked back towards him, over his shoulder. Fear was plain in his eyes, though the captain wasn’t entirely sure of the source. My relief? Grant asked, confused.

You didn't think you would still be able to finish your watch, did you? You've lost your certification. I can't have someone that isn't certified stay at the helm.

Stond pulled the schedule back up. Once he had cleared Grant's certification, a replacement would have automatically been assigned and notified. Before he could check the name, Sora walked onto the bridge. She was Stond's favorite of the standing helmsmen, for so many reasons. Sora came up before the captain's chair, saluting him formally, before turning to Grant's whimpering form.

You are relieved, she said, the required phrase to end a person's watch.

I-I stand r-relieved. Grant sniffled. Without looking to Sora, he stumbled down from the helm and slogged off the bridge. The sound of his crying flared up once he was out of sight before fading off into the distance.

What is this going to do to our ETA? Stond asked Sora, before she could sit down.

Wait one, Sora said, as she started to tap on the screen. Knowing the woman to be quite efficient at her work, Stond waited patiently for her response. Well, if we leave within the day, and head straight home, we should still arrive by the Victory Day celebration. It will be the morning before rather than the full day you would have preferred. However... She trailed off as she continued to fiddle with the controls.

However? Stond prompted, already overly impatient from Grant's exploits.

However, we won't be heading straight home, she said.

And why is that?