"Not all those who wander are lost."
— J.R.R. Tolkien
The next few weeks went by in a near blur. I was assigned my own office, workers kept coming and going, the Doctor and General kept bickering over their stupid element. Long story short, business as usual.
Interestingly, the estimated construction time when I arrived was about a year. Riding high from my recent promotion, I had quickly set to work accelerating this timetable. Drones were assembling, soldering and welding around the clock, constantly buzzing about the superstructure and surrounding base like the good little worker bees they were. Engineers worked double and even triple shifts. The drones did most of the heavy lifting, yeah; but a human element was still necessary for more sensitive work like installing and wiring up the computer nodes.
The Officers on duty were also double-checking over every single bit of metal, crystal and polymer of the Copernicus. Regardless of the time table being pushed up, we were not going to be cutting corners. Doing that gets people killed, and with an estimated population of over 100,000 people including crew, colonists, and support staff... Well, let's just say the stakes were higher than Cloudsdale.
And of course, there was still the matter of acquisitions. While our nanotechnology frees our culture and our people from most material wants, data is still an invaluable commodity. Requisition orders regularly passed through my desk for software licenses and databases that ran upwards of 2 Million credits. Each. Surprisingly, I was under direct orders to approve every single one. I don't know where the hell this project gets its funding, and frankly, I don't want to know.
You know what they say: you get what you pay for. The best of the best is certainly pricey. The best software, the best armor, the best shields, the best weaponry, the best optical computers - everything on this bucking ship is bleeding edge tech. Some of it won't see widespread production for a year at most. Not since the Second Exodus was such a massive quantity and broad spectrum of next-gen technology put towards a single purpose.
Then, of course, there's the crew. The security forces were probably the most diverse of the lot; composed of ex-mercenaries, former Insurrectionists, Colony Police, Fighter Pilots, Marines, Officers like myself... By Celestia, we even had a substantial contingent of highly trained Armor-Jocks ready to go.
The pilot was one of the few familiar faces. Yep, Spades was going to be at the helm of this high-tech leviathan. Turns out he wasn't just qualified for ferrying poor schmucks like me around in a shuttle.
The scientific team had over 1,000 Nanologists, Xenobiologists, Linguists, Anthropologists, Particle Physicists, Geologists - all pillars in their respective fields. The engineering department had a brilliant man named Jeffrey Adams heading it - as in the Jeffrey Adams that single-handedly repaired a supposedly derelict and inoperable dreadnought on Taurus V and subsequently used it to great effect against Insurrectionists. By doing so, one man had saved the lives of 319 Colonists and 53 Soldiers. The man became a war hero... while not being a soldier at all.
I respected him, at least until... well, I'm getting to that part. For now, let's just say that, while we didn't know it at the time, we would soon be fighting a war for our very survival, and there's a sad truth about wars:
They all have their traitors.
////\\\\
Early March, 2530
The Bridge of the ESES Copernicus
The completed Bridge was positively spacious. 3 rows of high-ranking officers were lined up on the trapezoidal construct. Each was in charge of one system - Stardrive, Weapons, Damage Control, Defensive Systems, Sensors. I had my own chair on a raised platform in the center of the room. The pilot, Navigator, and First Officer had their seats arranged in a triangular formation in front of me on a slightly lower platform. I had Spades in front of me, the navigator (who I never really caught the name of) to the right of me, and my First Officer, Commander Ray Redmond to my immediate left. A thin layer of Transparent Diamondoid separated 34 people from the deadly vacuum of space while providing an incredibly scenic view of the ugly-as-fuck dockyard. Once we're in space, I think the view will improve considerably.
I barked out a single order and the entire ship erupted with life:
"Initialize Takeoff Procedures. Let's light the fires, boys."
As the atmospheric thrusters engaged, I found myself... anxious and uneasy. Not that I regretted being promoted and sent on this mission, mind you. I just was thinking about the fact that the bridge drive was beyond experimental. If so much as a single variable was off, the entire ship and all its contents would be nothing but interstellar dust. And that's the best case scenario. While Doctor Braun had assured me over and over again that only 1% of the testbeds didn't come back, that was a 1% chance of explosive failure I didn't want to risk happening.
I mean, I have complete faith in Adams' math. It's just that risk of obliteration that hangs over my head. The chance that the blood of 100,000 souls would be on my hands. And nobody would ever know.
If you screw this up, Adams... I swear to Celestia, I'll bring both of us back from the dead just so I can kill you again myself.
The navigator seated to the right of me narrated the ongoing action with a distinct lack of emotion (and enthusiasm, for that matter.) Huh, judging from the two Pegasus wings affixed to his shoulder, he's a Lieutenant. So I'll just call him Lieutenant Navigator. Easy solution.
"Atmospheric thrusters at maximum output, Captain Lozo. I estimate 10 seconds until we reach the Exosphere."
"Alright. Spades, keep her going slow and steady. Wouldn't want to cut this mission off prematurely."
"Roger that, Cap'n."
"Exospheric threshold in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."
"Wait to engage the stardrive once we're about 100 miles clear of the Exosphere. Wouldn't want to ignite the atmosphere of Macintosh I. It'd sure be a shame to replace all that expensive industrial hardware."
There was a faint glimmer of a chuckle from the front of the room where Spades took up residence.
Well, at least somepony found my jokes funny.
////\\\\
About 10 minutes later, we had cleared the Macintosh system and were now safely within Interstellar Space. Now, it's time to charge up the drive and pray to Celestia that we don't die in a fiery inferno.
But before we do that, I should do what any self-respecting starship captain does before sending himself, his crew, and his ship on an insane endeavor: Say a few inspiring words over the intercom.
"Ray, open an internal frequency."
"You got it."
I paused to take a short breath while he tapped a few buttons on the console next to him.
"You're on, sir."
"Attention all hands: This is Captain Lozo speaking. A few minutes from now, we will attempt to travel to a distant star. One that is one of the farthest our Empire has ever dreamed of seeing. The technology on this ship is largely untested. If so much as a single number is off by a fraction of a decimal, we could end up light years from our destination... or worse, dust. Our finest scientists tell me that is highly unlikely, but the point remains: Double and triple check everything. We've no room at all for error here, so let's not take any chances. Adams, make sure your math is right. Bridge out."
I motioned Ray to close the channel before turning back to the front of the bridge.
"Well said, Captain. Very encouraging." Ray said snidely.
"Brough' a tear to me eye." Spades said.
"Yeah, yeah. Shut it. I'm not good at speeches. Moving on. I need a Go/No-Go for launch. Propulsion?"
"Go.", Dr. Braun in the back responded.
"Reactor?"
"Go."
"Weaponry?"
"... Go."
"Defensive Systems?"
"Go."
"Power Transfer Control?"
"Ah, hang on a sec... Okay, Go."
This repetitive exchange proceeded until each one of the ranking officers said their peace. All reported ready.
"Right, we are go for ERBD activation. Ray, you may have the honor."
"Gladly, Captain. Bridge to main engineering!" Ray said into his console. (Well, really yelled. But I digress.)
The posh British voice of Chief Adams piped up over the line.
"Engineering here. Equation ready for entry whenever you are."
"Roger that. Input the jump equation and load the Quantium sample into the reactant chamber."
"Affirmative, Bridge. We're just doing some final tweaks to the equation. We'll be done in a jiff here."
A few seconds of awkward silence later, Adams came back on.
"We're all set. Loading Quantium now."
////\\\\
Meanwhile in Main Engineering...
Chief Engineer Adams twirled a miniature glass ball the size of his fist between the thumb and index finger on his left hand, eyeing it fiendishly. Inside the fragile ball was a light-blue glowing chunk of matter, Quantium.
"Miraculous, isn't it? Quantium is such a fascinating element, really. It's extremely rare in nature. A single asteroid a kilometer across holds, on average, half a microgram of the stuff. It's central to the Einstein-Rosenberg Bridge Drive because, when impacted by a single Muon particle traveling at near the speed of light, the substance detonates. The effect is not noticeable in any quantity of less than 1.2 Micrograms. Anyway, it immediately generates a stable singularity that is expanded massively and can be warped into the shape of a tunnel through spacetime via mass field generators-"
Engineer Donnelly always tended to tune Adams out most of the time when he started babbling like this. The man may have been a hero, but holy Celestia, was he annoying!
"-requiring an extremely accurate set of mathematic equa-"
Finally, Sean Arcturus Donnelly had had enough of him.
"Good lord, lad! Are ye still talkin'?! Ya were supposed ta load the damned thing into the Chamber, na marry it!"
"Ah, but a sample is already in the chamber. This is the one for the return trip."
"What the hell is it doing out? Ye droop that sphere and the element'll decay!"
"Ah yes, Quantium decays rapidly when exposed to Oxygen. That's why it's magnetically suspended in these glass spheres. I suppose it would indeed be a shame if I just... let go."
To Donnelly, it seemed that time froze. Engineer Adams rapidly flashed a playful grin. In the space of a second, the irreplaceable sphere tumbled out of his hand and towards the floor, shattering and disrupting the solid-state superconducting magnets holding the rare element in the middle of the sphere. The cerulean Quantium rapidly liquefied into an irrevocable aerosol.
"WHAT'VE YE DUN, YE BLOODY NITWIT?!"
"... Oops."
To the shock of Donnelly, Adams quickly drew a 5mm holdout pistol he'd stashed inside his Engineer's satchel and promptly shot him in the chest. In respect of their years of friendship, Adams rushed over and caught the brilliant Scotsman as he fell.
"I am sorry, old friend. For everything. Some evils must be committed for Darkness to rise again."
As Donnelly gasped for air, Adams stood up and backed away from him.
"And It Shall Rise Again."
A split second after Adams said that, an implanted microexplosive in his neck detonated. A failsafe.
Thankfully, Adams had merely wounded Donnelly who was able to recover in a moment.
Looking at the terminal Adams was using earlier to input the equation, Donnelly was able to fully comprehend what had just happened.
Oh. Shi-
////\\\\
Back on the Bridge...
The Bridge Drive was nearly ready. Just a few more moments and we'd teleport away into the darkness. Or we'd blow up. Hopefully, we don't blow up thou-
"ENGINEERING TA THE BRIDGE! ADAMS MESSED UP THE EQUATION!"
Donnelly? What the-
"Right. So where is Adams so I can kill him first?"
"Ye don't understand, sir! 'e went insane - destroyed the second Quantium Sphere! Then pulled a holdout pistol and shot me! Oi'm fine, ba the way, but there's a bigger issue! 'e intentionally inserted a rounding error into the dimensional compensation algorithm! We're fucked, sir!"
Before I had a chance to even bark a cliched but necessary "All Hands to Escape Pods" out, the Bridge Drive activated and swallowed the ship whole. My brain spat out one last coherent thought before unconsciousness gripped me.
Goddammit, Adams. You had ONE job.
////\\\\
Well, at least I'm not a sentient pile of dust. There's that.
On the other hand, I'm pretty sure I cracked 2 ribs. I somehow doubt even that's the least of my worries.
I also seem to be on top of something. Something warm and fleshy. Ah, not something. Someone. I opened my eyes to the clearly pissed off face of my first officer. Poor guy was pinned underneath my floppy body; his was frozen like a piece of hardwood into a virtual straight line.
My brain seemed to deem this the perfect time for an awkward double entendre.
"You know, if you weren't so rigidly straight, this would be somewhat more comfortable for the both of us."
Ray was unamused. "Sir. With all due respect: Get the fuck off of me before I kick you right through the fucking hull."
Not intending to push my luck, I got off of him, careful to stay off my injured ribs. I'd have to see Mitchell about that later. I looked around.
The bridge was in shambles, to say the least. Entire swathes of Diamondoid were missing. Not shattered. Missing. Some were even circular. God, this place looked more like metallic swiss cheese than the most advanced vessel in the ESE Navy. Thankfully, the repair systems kicked in to repair some of the damage. I figured that the reason I had lost consciousness was because the bridge fucking depressurized.
The odd spark would erupt from an exposed wire. Smoke filled the room. As well as a few dead or unconscious crewmembers.
"... Commander, get me a ship status report." I said calmly.
"Yes, sir."
Ray moved the pile of Lieutenant Navigator off of his console and called up a shipwide diagnostic.
"Can't access most of the diagnostic programs. I can get general function readouts, but beyond that...
"... Life support is at 100% functionality. Thank god for that dedicated generator, eh?
"We've lost Propulsion, Weaponry, Shield Projectors, Primary Computer, Replication Suite, Long-Range Sensor Suite, Cyberwarfare... Almost every primary and secondary system is shot save Life Support and Artificial Gravity. The cryostasis system is largely undamaged. Seems the colonists are fine.
"... All in all, we're dead in the water, Captain."
"... Better than being dead, I guess... What exactly happened?"
"Sensor data was spotty at best. As far as I can tell, the wormhole formed was unstable. Pockets of... something... formed within our hull, erasing certain bits of our ship from existence."
I looked outside the ship towards the stars. Something was off about the way they were arranged.
"Ray, where the hay are we?"
"... I don't know, but the Astrometrics suite is still online. Hang on.
After a brief pause, he chimed in again.
"... It has no fucking idea either."
"Elaborate."
"Well, even if we're on the other side of the galaxy, the suite would still be able to automatically adapt its algorithms and get an approximate fix so long as a few stars are in the right spot. The stars here match up with our chart in some spots, but in others, they're completely off."
"You think we might have ended up outside our galaxy?"
"Possibly. Although, let me check one last thing."
He tapped a few more buttons. Far as I could tell, he was bringing up the communications system. It uses entangled particles to transmit data instantly regardless of distance.
"... That's not possible."
"What?"
"The QEC radio is... it's not able to establish a link with Macintosh I. So... I think you know that there are only two situations a QEC radio would utterly fail to connect. One is time travel. However, with how the drive works, I think we can safely rule that out."
"And the other being...?"
"That we've somehow ended up in an alternate universe."
That's. Just. Special.