“Sir, you misunderstand. This is an experimental system.”
“Yet you stick it on the biggest ship we’ve ever built?”
Sigh. “She was going to be a lot smaller, but someone had to mandate she be a warship. I had to make her that big because that’s the only way for her to still pack in the necessary support systems!”
Grunt. “How’d you get past the size-to-firepower limits, then?”
“She’s also equipped with more than one untested weapons system.”
“Oh? When are you planning to test them?”
“On her maiden voyage.”
“With noone anywhere nearby?”
Shrug. “We don’t know if they will blow up the ship either- but I do know these weapons are far too powerful for testing anywhere near our home system.”
“Who’s going to watch the testing, then?”
“The computer will watch initial testing in deep space. Once it gets back with a report on the effective zones of the weapons, we can set up a more focused testing range also in deep space for more directed testing. Right now, the priority is to make sure these experiments won’t kill everyone.”
Grunt. “I cannot authorize the launch. The rules specifically state that new vessels must be monitored by an outside source from launch to commissioning. If you cannot guarantee our safety in doing that, don’t launch it.”
Sigh. “Fine, then. I’ll see what I can do.” He turns to head back to his car; the Space Lord had refused his request. He’d even refused to acknowledge that its experimental engines are so massive precisely because they’re designed to take the ship where no current ship can go!
The doors land closed behind him. Heck, just about everything on that ship is experimental- all the way down to the environmental systems, being designed to handle just about any possible atmosphere and maintain completely different atmospheric compositions in different rooms of the ship!
He navigates his way out of the government building. He’ll have to cancel the launch reservation he’d made- and abort his ship’s maiden voyage. The first of the just-as-new power plants running the thing will be kicking off the full test cycle- through ignition- in as little as three hours’ time.
He has until the gravity drive test begins tomorrow morning to cancel the whole shebang. Honestly, he would have preferred to get the thing into deep space before lighting off the gravity drive. Unfortunately, simple thrusters- even combined with the fancy magneto-drive most ships use in close proximity to planets these days- simply aren’t strong enough to have a snowflake’s chance in an active volcano of even floating the thing off the docking clamps.
The good news is, cancellation should be as simple as a single command. He can even send it from his phone, once he gets back to his car. Then he’ll be stuck at his computer, rewriting the maiden voyage program, for months before he applies for another launch reservation and seeks permission to launch again.
So, another good year and a half or so that his ginormous ship will remain in the construction hangar… Another year and a half of expensive rent before he can dismantle the hangar and return the land. He’d been hoping to do that now- and hide out in a hotel or something for a week until it gets back from that maiden voyage… An event that was scheduled for this coming Friday.
He freezes momentarily, glancing to the side, at the noise of a car engine. Most cars these days still have wheels; the maglev coils work great on the roads, but most people don’t have mag lines installed in their driveways, or other locations they want to park their car. Not to mention, if one has to swerve off the road for some reason, wheels are the only way to get back on the road.
This car just shot off the road at a few hundred miles an hour, twisting in midair before striking the ground sideways. Now a whirling drum of steel, it’s bouncing straight towards him. He dives for cover.
He doesn’t make it.
Three hours later, the first of many fusion plants ignites successfully, stabilizes, and starts providing power to ignite the rest, while the automated program disconnects external power.
The following morning, a Monday, the gravity drive lights off successfully- and the docking clamps that hadn’t been caught in the drive zone retract peaceably from the now floating ship. The few that had been in the drive zone had been torn violently away from the armored vessel.
One hour after that, the still-standing launch reservation arrives- and the computer, acknowledging the clock, increases power to the gravity drive, rising the ship out of the damaged hangar, guiding it smoothly up the scheduled flight path. The crash test dummies strapped to seats or walls throughout the ship don’t even realize it’s moving- a feat most ship designers would kill for.
The ship finally reaches orbit unhindered- and touches on the end of the scheduled flight path, at the edge of controlled space. The gravity drive goes instantly to full power, pulling off accelerations that many fast courier vessels might envy. It reverses acceleration at some point, drawing itself to a halt close to a light-minute away from the Earth before rotating ninety degrees and launching into the various engine tests. Only one craft is close enough to witness the departure- and the crew of the mining vessel stare slack-jawed as its enormous engines power on... then the entire ship disappears in a blaze of light.
Ten minutes finds the ship positioned approximately six lightyears from Earth- a distance even the fastest ships take several hours to traverse. With the warp engine test complete, the program moves immediately onto the next test- the engines designed to take it where no other ship can follow. This takes a few hours to charge- and finally, with a blast and a shockwave, the enormous ship disappears from the face of the universe.
“Good to see you again, Admiral Wolf.” He stands from behind his desk, moving around it to greet his visitor. “What brings you to my office?”
The named admiral accepts his hand, shaking it briefly but cordially, before pulling his tablet out from under his arm. “There’s been an incident,” he states, “and I think you should be involved.”
Space Lord Matthews raises his eyebrow. “Oh? There’s been an incident big enough the head of the Space Police comes to me for an answer, but I haven’t already heard of it from anyone else?”
He nods as the two move to the seats at the desk- he in front of it, and the Space Lord behind. “Yes, actually. Three hours ago, we intercepted a fairly standard civilian orbital violation alert.”
“So, starship theft?”
He shakes his head. “More like attempted starship theft, we think. We may never know for sure- the idiot got himself blown to space dust.
“In any case, we sent an officer to look. We had just gained a visual on the transmitting vessel when it repeated the alert- and paired it with an IFF query that went unanswered.” He wakes the tablet, touching a key.
The Space Lord raises an eyebrow, turning to his own terminal to touch a key of his own- and authorize the data transfer. A moment passes, and an image appears on his screen. As expected, it’s a Space Police nosecam photo- and there are several ships in the image. He nods slowly.
“It’s the big one. The approaching vessel isn’t visible in this image- hidden by the freighter Orion, we think. This officer got a visual on him too- but we didn’t have a fix on his location or identity until the third warning came about.
“Just before the third warning was transmitted, this vessel- self-identified as the civilian starship ‘Athena’- emitted a short, tightly focused, directional burst of high-energy radar. We estimate this burst was powerful enough to boil some starship paints- and that it was most certainly powerful enough to read any ID numbers present on the targeted vessel.
“Immediately after this burst, this vessel transmitted an ID query on a hull number- which the Records Division’s computers answered hastily. As soon as that came back, ‘Athena’ transmitted a couple of simultaneous signals. One was an unregistered vessel contact report intended for our office, on a laser; the other was an omnidirectional verbal alert.” He touches another key.
A moment later, a calm, female voice floods through the office, from the Space Lord’s terminal. “Unregistered Vessel, you are in violation of reserved space for Standard Orbit Seven. Please alter your course a minimum of fifteen degrees North by Northwest to avoid collision and contact Traffic Control for safe navigation in the area.”
Admiral Wolf nods as the recording completes. “One of our officers at the Office received the contact report- a standard report- and ran it through the computers. As it turns out, the offending hull number belongs- belonged- to the Black Fang.”
Slow nod. “Of course it’s the Black Fang. They’ve been, what, starship thieves, cargo thieves…?”
Nod. “Blackmailers, orbit and flight plan thieves, rioters, cop killers, you name it, they’ve done it, really. This was one of their previously-identified boarding craft. The receiving officer forwarded the warning back to the Athena.
“At the same time, several nearby cops set a course for what we expected to be a slim hope to at least prevent a starship theft. None of them made it in time, but we did see the rest of the incident from several angles.
“Of course, ‘Athena’ wasn’t done yet. As he continued to approach, she sent another verbal warning- identical, except for a slightly sharper angle. Nothing happened- until he crossed the fifty mile mark. Then she sent a different warning.” Another touch.
The same, calm voice sounds out again. The tone has changed, ever so slightly, creating a stern feeling. “Unregistered Vessel, approach to this vessel has not been authorized. Reverse your course immediately.”
Space Lord Matthews raises his eyebrow. “Fifty mile mark?”
Nod. “This vessel is huge, taking up an entire orbital slot all to herself. The estimate is ten miles long, or so. He responded- directional transmission, but with a cheap transmitter- and we’re pretty sure Athena was purposely reflecting the signal to the Officers in the area anyways.”
More touches. A snarling, male voice. “Oh yeah? Well just so you know, if you try anything, I’ll blow you to space junk before you can cry for help!”
“She did not respond. He continued to close- and, at the thirty-five mile mark, she sent another warning.”
More touches, and the calm, female voice. “Unregistered Vessel, this is your final warning. Approach to this vessel has not been authorized. Reverse your course immediately, or this vessel will engage hostile.”
“Did she just say what I think she said?”
“No, she said it three hours ago. But yes, she did say that. He responded, of course.”
“Hah! Engage hostile, really? I’ll show you how hostile is done!”
Blink. “Lemme guess, he started shooting?”
Nod. “Biggest mistake he could have made, I believe. The warning we send targets of the Black Fang authorizes targeted vessels to use any means necessary to protect their vessel- and she clearly understood that. She returned fire.
“With a plasma cannon.”
Blink. “A plasma cannon? On a civilian vessel?”
Nod. “A direct hit, too. Our nearby officers detected the activation of some kind of energy barrier across her hull at the same time; this barrier seems to have deactivated- or dissipated, we’re not sure- some ten seconds later, once the brunt of the blast was over. No nearby vessels were harmed, that we know of.
“Athena immediately submitted a report to our office- and informed all of the approaching officers of the aforementioned report, complete with the assigned report ID.” More touches. “She attached full sensor logs of the incident; we finished analyzing them some ten minutes ago.” He looks up from his tablet. “According to my analysts, Athena has something better than military grade equipment.”
“Oh?”
Nod. “During the two seconds it took for her to activate the turreted weapon she used, her logs report a very powerful communications link established with her attacker- and a successful electronic warfare campaign. It would seem she successfully downloaded his entire database- including navigation data.”
Blink. “What? That’s impossible- we don’t have the technology to transmit that fast!”
Nod. “That’s what I said- but she found a way around it. She used every transmitter his ship had, on every frequency, in that download; looked to us like jamming. Took about a second.” He glances down at the tablet. “She did not attach it to the report; before I came to you, we sent her a request to download the acquired data. She complied immediately- and it looks like the download just finished.”
“So, we’ve encountered a civilian vessel capable of outperforming our military, and acquired the best lead on the Black Fang we’ve had in decades?”
Nod. “Sounds about right.”
He nods slowly. “Ah. Yes, I do believe I should be involved in this. Who is it registered to?”
“The Athena?”
Nod.
“That’s the thing. When we asked, she immediately returned her registry ID- I swear, it feels like an automated system, but it sounds like a real person. Her registry checked out- standard single-party private ownership and so forth.
“Only, the private owner in question died on our front lawn- automobile accident- a month ago.”
Scowl. “Interesting. Any contact information?”
Shake. “Nothing, save for him.”
Sigh. He touches a few keys on his terminal, then shrugs, looking back at the Admiral. “I think I’ll try calling the ship- you want to stick around, or no?”
Shrug. “Might as well. This will be recorded, right?”
Nod. “Of course.” He looks back at his terminal, and touches another key.
The screen barely has time to show the ‘Request Sent’ message before it flips to ‘Connected- Audio Only’ and that same, gentle voice floods out of the speakers- without the stern undertones.
“This is the Starship Athena,” it states.
He nods at the terminal. “This is Space Lord Matthews. May I speak with the Captain?”
The response is instant. “This vessel has no recognized crew.”
“Alright. May I speak with the seniormost passenger?”
“This vessel is currently unmanned.”
He pauses for a second, glancing up at the Admiral, before looking back at the terminal. “Builder, then?”
“This vessel’s builder is known to be deceased. No other personnel were directly involved with this vessel at any time.”
He blinks. “So, he parked you in orbit and just… left?”
“Negative. Approximately three weeks ago, this vessel completed initial, unmanned testing in deep space. All tests passed successfully.”
“What about launch?”
“This vessel was launched autonomously.”
“So… Under whose orders are you operating?”
“This vessel is operating in Full Autonomous Mode and will comply with all regulations, military, and law enforcement until such time as regular crew are assigned and sent aboard.”
“Who assigns that crew?”
“Crew assignments will be accepted from the United Space Administration. Would you like to assign crew at this time?”
“Uh, no, not presently. Is there a requirement for crew assignment confirmations, or no?”
“Negative. Would you like to add specific office approval requirements for crew assignments?”
Blink. “Uh…” He looks up at the Admiral, who nods. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Would you like all crew assignments to pass approval by your office, or no?”
“Uh, no. I would like final approval, yes- but first through Admiral Wolf’s office, delegatable.”
“Admiral Wolf: High Admiral of the Space Police; senior recognized law enforcement officer. Confirm- require primary approval through senior law enforcement, and final approval through your office?”
Again, he looks at the Admiral- and shares a nod. “Uh, yes, then.”
“Orders confirmed.”
Blink. “Uh… Is it okay to send personnel aboard without crew assignments?”
“Affirmative. Please notify this vessel of any authorized craft prior to approach; all boarding personnel will be permitted access to the public sectors. Permission must be granted, either prior or on-demand, for access to restricted sectors.”
Blink. “What if I come aboard?”
“Prior to the assignment of regular crew members, you will be permitted access to all areas of the vessel, upon request. Warnings will be delivered prior to accessing potentially hazardous parts of the vessel.”
“Upon request?”
“Request system is used for authorized personnel to protect against accidental entry into hazardous environments. Requirement of the request can be waived on an individual basis; not recommended for non-experts.”
Nod. “Ahh. How safe are these various sectors?”
“Public sectors are designed for general passenger use; safe for children and animals. Secure sectors are intended for crew use; includes the bridge and, sometimes, the Observation Deck. Restricted sectors are potentially dangerous areas, near inner workings of key components; many may be jettisoned in case of emergency, minor mistakes in others may cause incapacitation of the vessel or death of the crew.”
Blink. “Oh. If I send someone aboard, can I grant them access to all secure sectors?”
“Affirmative. Blanket authorizations are recognized; recommend specific names of personnel to be authorized, for security purposes.”
Slow nod. “How’s the shipboard atmosphere?”
“Current shipboard atmosphere, vacuum. In the event of an authorized boarding party, appropriate atmosphere will be synthesized from bottled gasses and distributed to all accessible spaces.”
Blink. “Will it hold pressure?”
“All spaces have been pressure-tested individually, using helium gas, to fifty atmospheres; no loss detected. Internal vacuum is maintained to inhibit materials deterioration while this vessel is not in use.”
Silence holds for two seconds.
“Alright. How long would it take to produce the required atmosphere?”
“Atmospheric components can be mixed at sufficient rate to pressurize all accessible spaces in six minutes. Single rooms can be pressurized in as little as five seconds, when unoccupied.”
“What about when occupied?”
“Pressurization rate of occupied spaces is limited to two atmospheres per minute to prevent undue turbulence.”
“Ahh.” He glances at Admiral Wolf’s tablet. “What’s your commission date?”
“This vessel was never commissioned.”