//------------------------------// // Traceless // Story: The memoirs of Princess Brighter Skies // by Disembodied_Pony //------------------------------// Far outside the confines of the SOL system, the Extended-Transport NeminDar made way to its destination. Some two hundred and nine thousand light years away; a mining outpost that had been made operational only six years ago, was it's destination. The ship's skeleton crew of 8, oversaw the ship's operations, course, and passengers. Consisting of 26 humans; all of the passengers were bound for the outpost. Most of them to engage in the mining operations as permanent career workers. Though, a couple were nomadic workers; getting exposure and experience as they searched for a fulfilling career somewhere in the galaxy. The nearly three-month voyage, was not even a month way through. One of the young nomads was going over the project's scope of what he was to do there. Laying on a cot, bored after reading the same parameters for the fourth time that day, was, well... me. 'There's only so much I can get out of this without meeting the people that will be using the system' he thought. His job, and talent, was fine tuning the automation systems user interface. Though not a special talent like ponies get, he did have a knack for customizing the 'personality' of the computers to be a more productive fit for varying environments. The baseline system was quite good in of itself, but a mining operation doesn't have the delicate and intuitive touch that a research lab would benefit from the vanilla system. They needed things like; the barest of facts, and quickly as possible; Short & Quick. The fine details that the system was defaulted to give, wasted their time, and it added up. Thus his knack was in demand. When he finished getting it to their liking, off he'd be on another transport to begin again elsewhere. He wasn't the only one that did this, but there were few. Few enough to keep one constantly busy for a number of years, easily. He knew this wasn't a permanent career, it was a springboard. A vector to see the outposts, colonies, terraformed planets, and meet the people there. See what they did in their lives, and find something more challenging. After all, doing the same simple thing repeatedly with so many options out there, was squandering one's own life. Such was the philosophy of his people in that era. "What they're like now, I can only guess? That was so long ago... Oh, but I'm getting off track." "Your highness, did you ask me something?" "Sorry Golden, no. Just thinking out loud." 'Where was I? Hmm... yes, my job back then. Sweet, simple, times.' There, he'd be reworking the system to be more likable and useful, for the next many months, perhaps even a year. Reaching the end end of his patience, he sat up and placed the pad in the drawer next to his cot. Looking around to make sure everything was put away, he got up and left the room. Walking down the corridor toward the cryosleep rooms, the corridor was quiet. Most of the passengers were already fast asleep in the tubes already. Back in those days, I put off sleeping in those pods as long as I could. Reason being, that waking up from them after being in one for weeks, even months; was an unpleasant affair. Grogginess and disorientation the norm, even many hours after waking. Half of a day would pass by before you felt completely normal. Stimulants being the only way to shorten the effects even a little. Coffee was beverage of choice for every single person waking from the pods. There were few alternatives aboard the ship however. Though it was not spartan by any means, recreational facilities were not the ships forte. Making long voyages like this a mind numbingly dull affair after a number of weeks. So, resigning himself to his fate of future lethargy, he walked into the first cryosleep room he came to. Walking down the row of six pods, one each side, he found they were all taken. Walking out of the room, he proceeded down the corridor, skipping the next room, expecting the same results there. Coming to the third room, he went inside and came up to the first pod that was unoccupied. Tapping the control screen, he set the timer to wake him three days before the ETA of the mining outpost, coming to roughly two months in cryo. 'Not too bad a duration in the pod. And that should give me plenty enough time to get the cob webs out of my head, and refresh myself of the job.' he thought. Laying down and tapping the close button, he settled in for making the coming weeks fly by as they were nothing. I imagine that the crew were gong about their day as was normal on this route, which was traveled so many times previously. Likely engaged in mundane conversations between them. Something along the lines of; 'what are you going to do when we reach the outpost? I'm going to visit their recreation center. To welcome visitors and new arrivals, they've established many reputable diners and whatnot.' the response being 'Yeah they have, I always visit this one place; they've go-' his response cut off, never knowing what hit him. Another in the ship, looking to his console, seeing something interesting appear upon it. Whether reaching for it in curiosity or even panic, his finger would never make contact with it... Whatever had appeared before the ship, was never observed or recorded before. And without warning, the ship collided with it faster than the speed of light. The front quarter of the ship, all decks and compartments, compacted and snapped off completely; Gone instantly. The crew dead before they knew anything had even happened. Energy from the phenomenon; coursed through the ships infrastructure, overloading and frying everything in its path. Arcing from conduit to bulkhead and back again, anyone in its path, was mortally stricken down. The engine room, was obliterated. The engine's containment systems, and their redundant systems; failing instantly from the intrusion of the foreign energy coursing through them. As the energy contained within the engine spilled out, the materials the engine was comprised of, vaporized. The components around it, were launched like projectiles and sent like shrapnel, piercing everything in their paths. Their velocity producing gaping holes in the hulls throughout what remained of the ship. From what would now be considered the stem, to stern, there were no compartments that didn't completely loose atmosphere. Stasis pods were fried by the energy, and even punctured by debris. Exposing the occupants to the vacuum of space, or ceasing their life signs due to the pods electrical system failures. Even the ship's redundant micro-fusion backup reactors were nearly depleted of their fuel supplies, providing very little power. Of the ones that were still operational at all. The containment force fields never stood a chance of fulfilling their purpose in keeping the atmosphere in place; Their controls and sensors being taken out of commission, as well as having their energy supply cut off at the sources. Completely unprepared for an event of this nature, the ship was entirely at the mercy of it. And it was a harsh mistress indeed... To any investigators that would arrive at the scene, it would appear as if the ship had simply vanished. With only some possible trace wreckage alluding to it's fate. In another galaxy, or even another dimension in space, appeared a heaping wreckage of a ship; Swiss cheesed, drifting, and almost entirely unpowered. Not a living soul aboard.... Except one. There would be no tale to tell if all of them had perished. One human still lived, though asleep. The pod's redundant backup system having been barely damaged, had entered grey mode: minimum operation. Programmed to do so in extreme situations of being cut off by the ships computer, and external power; was still functional enough to perform its most basic of function. It had missed being pierced by shrapnel, and with its primary onboard system having failed; it operated just enough to keep the human from dying in his sleep like the others. So it did; Surrounded in vacuum, exposed to space, and on its own. With no end in sight, he might have slept for even a century before the pod completely exhausted it's remaining internal power reserve. All of this, I had come to learn in hindsight, while perusing the repair logs performed by the automated systems. So close to oblivion, in so many ways... If the wake timer had continued to operate, I would have been revived just to suffocate before even becoming conscious: The cryosleep compartment still having no atmosphere, even months after the event. Years, it would turn out to be.