He had been unable to reach either of his sons, who were both serving in the fleet and were unavailable. But he had spoken at length with his daughter and even gotten to speak with his grandchildren. He had shared breakfast with his wife, also by vid-comm, just like he had done every morning since he reported for duty on the Aurora over a month ago.
The captain looked up from his data pad, scanning the eleven stations located around the perimeter of the bridge. They were all manned and ready, with the notable exception of a helmsman, who still had not arrived, despite the fact that they were set to depart in under two minutes. He turned to face the tactical station located directly behind him, which was currently being manned by his XO. He had insisted on an experienced officer at tactical, and Fleet Command had agreed to transfer one from the Intrepid when she returned to port in another week. “Any sign of our helmsman?” the captain asked Commander Montero.
As if on cue, Nathan came charging onto the bridge at a fast walk, still chewing his breakfast. “Sorry Sir,” he apologized with a mouth full of sausage. “Got a late start,” he added as he passed by and took his seat at the helm, directly in front of and slightly to the right of the command chair.
“Wipe your hands before you touch that console, Lieutenant,” the captain warned, a touch of amusement in his voice.
“Yes Sir.”
Nathan quickly wiped his hands on his pant legs, casting a guilty expression toward Cameron who sat at the navigation console to his left. Cameron looked away, still not able to understand how he had been promoted over her.
“Now that we’re all here,” the captain said. “XO. Ship’s Status?”
“All departments have reported in, and all stations are manned and ready, Captain,” Commander Montero reported from the tactical station. “We’re ready to get under way, Sir.”
“Very well. Comm, contact the platform’s CIC and Fleet Command, let them know the Aurora is leaving port.”
“Yes Sir,” the comm officer acknowledged.
“Lieutenant Scott, check that all boarding ramps have been detached and retracted, and release all mooring clamps.”
Nathan checked the status display that sent a constant telemetry of mooring data from the Platform’s control systems. “All boarding ramps have been retracted and secured, releasing all mooring clamps.” Nathan pressed a button on his side console to release the mooring clamps that held the ship in place.
Outside, more than twenty clamps located on the end of long pneumatic arms simultaneously released their grip on the Aurora’s mooring points. The sudden release allowed the negatively pressured mooring arms to quickly pull away from the ship and back against the assembly platform.
Inside, there was a muffled clunk as the clamps released, and the ship seemed to dip slightly to port. It was only a slight sensation, one that might have gone unnoticed had they not seen the slight change in the ship’s angle in relation to the assembly frame that surrounded them through the main view screen.
“Ship is free floating, Sir.” Nathan immediately compensated for the slight change in attitude with his docking thrusters, tapping his joystick ever so slightly, bringing the ship back into perfect alignment.
“Very, well, Lieutenant. Take us out.”
“Thrusting forward.” Nathan applied gentle forward pressure on the joystick. He held the pressure for only a second, maybe less-just enough for the ship to start inching forward.
The Aurora began to slowly slide out of the long octagonal shaped truss work that had been her home since her construction had begun over two years ago. Every single work light was shining on her as she inched away from her berth.
The main view screen was a massive quarter-sphere display that encompassed the front third of the bridge. Starting at the floor and flowing up smoothly onto the ceiling, it gave the flight crew, the two most forward stations, and the Command Chair a one-hundred and eighty degree view laterally, and nearly as much vertically. It was as if you were sitting in a bubble atop the ship herself, looking out into space. Despite the knowledge that it was only a projection, and that they were sitting in one of the most protected compartments within the ship, one couldn’t help but feel exposed when surround by the amazing view.
From his position at the helm, Nathan could easily see that every view port on their side of the assembly platform’s main structure was packed full of faces, all there to witness this historic moment. For them, it was the culmination of years of hard work and long hours, and they had every reason to be proud of their accomplishment as they watched her go.
“Message from Fleet Command, Sir,” the comm officer reported.
“Go ahead,” the captain answered, already anticipating the content of the message.
“Message reads, ‘Bon Voyage, and good luck to the crew of the Fleet’s newest vessel, the Aurora.’ End message.”
“Thank you, Ensign. Pass it on, ship-wide, please.”
Nathan continued to add velocity with each tap of the joystick, until they were moving out of the berth at a respectable rate. He didn’t want to seem to cautious or they might realize how nervous he actually was. For only a few short weeks ago, Nathan was about to serve as a third-string backup pilot on the oldest ship in the fleet. But now, by some twist of fate, he was the lead pilot of the newest and fastest ship the Earth had ever put into space. He had never aspired to such accomplishments. In fact, he had never been as patriotic as most of classmates. His only ambition had been to get away from his father and lead his own life. But now, after all he had been through over the last two weeks, he was starting to feel the same as everyone else. He was believing in something greater than himself.
Cameron watched as the opening to the end of the assembly berth passed them by, their bow breaking into open space high above the Earth. Despite her calm exterior, Cameron could feel her pulse racing with excitement at the sight of it all, despite the fact that it looked exactly the same as it had in the countless simulations they had run.
She too had joined the fleet to get away from her old life. And she had also lacked the patriotic feeling shared by most of her class. But ambition had never been something that she had lacked. For her, it was all consuming. It drove her day in and day out, and made her cold and competitive.
But she was okay with it, figuring that the sacrifice now while she was young would pay off later. She had no interest in becoming a baby-factory, like so many of her friends back home. She agreed with those that felt the Earth’s population was being refilled at an acceptable rate, making such efforts not only unnecessary, but unwise.
And so she had committed herself to a life in the fleet, hoping to make captain someday. It had required her to fore-go any romantic entanglements, not wanting to deal with the additional distractions. Not that she didn’t date on occasion. After all, a girl did have needs. But she had always been up front with anyone of interest, which probably explained why she had few second dates.
“Clear of the Platform, Sir,” Nathan announced. So far so good.
“Very well, take us to departure altitude and prepare a course for Jupiter.”
“Climbing to departure altitude,” Nathan acknowledged. Nathan fired up the main engines at only a few percent of their overall thrust capacity, in order to increase their velocity and climb to a higher orbit. A low, almost inaudible rumble began emanating from the stern of the ship as her massive engines began their low intensity burn.
“Calculating course for Jupiter,” Cameron reported. “Velocity, Sir?” she asked the captain.
The captain thought about it for a moment before responding, a smile coming across his face. “Flight’s discretion,” he offered.
Cameron and Nathan looked at each other. Nathan’s face was like a mischievous little boy who suddenly had a great idea. But Cameron’s was a look of concern, probably due to her helmsman’s expression.
“Within reason, of course,” the captain added.
Nathan silently mouthed the question half light to Cameron, who nodded grudging agreement.
“Recommend half-light, Sir,” Cameron advised. “At Jupiter’s current position, that will get us there in approximately eighty-seven minutes.”
“A bit much for our first time out,” the captain speculated as he shifted nervously in his seat. “But they did want us to test our new engines, so half-light it is. But do us all a favor and take it up slowly? Remember, we’ve got
