Part 11: Captain Fissure

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Fourteen hours ago, standard time...

"Captain on deck!"

The command crew of the ECS Interceptor Dark Horse stood at attention, saluting as their commanding officer entered the helm. In one hand was his datapad filled with the day's flight registries, ship manifests, Dark Horse's crew roster, and his book club's book of the month. In the other hand was a steaming cup of faux coffee from the lower level of Trappist Station. The kiosk on Dark Horse had real coffee, but Captain Jacolby Fissure preferred the faux stuff from Earth Prime. He saluted with his drink and gestured for the crew to resume preparations for the day's patrol.

He sat in his command seat, synced his pad to the ship's main view screen, and sipped his hot beverage. He tapped his pad and the morning ship departures were displayed for all to see. His first mate and protégé, Commander Patience Dally, stood in the center of the room and studied the list. She was a woman of thick build with skin as dark as the faux coffee seeds Fissure loved so much. She had a handsome unibrow which hung above both eyes. She made notes on her own pad and shared them on the screen.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," she said as she walked over to the huge screen.

"Morning, Commander," the crew replied.

"Morning, ma'am," said Gunnery Officer Lopez. He winked, she nodded. Everyone knew they were sleeping together, but Captain Fissure saw no reason to address it as long as it didn't interfere with his ship.

"We have at least three flights which give me concern this morning." She pointed towards the screen and details for the third ship in the first jump queue appeared at her fingertips. "This civilian vessel has been tagged twice this year for possible contraband importation. Now bound for Europa Station."

"The smugglers den," growled Ensign Kharahs. The green fur of his hackles raised.

"Exactly. I'm of a mind to order a surprise inspection. Captain?"

"I trust your instincts, Patience, but we don't want to risk things turning violent with so many civilian ships around. Send word to Europa. That's Felarnian Space, they'll gladly handle the inspection."

Commander Dally nodded and entered more data into her pad. She pointed to the details of a ship fourth in line for the third jump queue. Captain Fissure had highlighted the same ship in his own personal log. It was impossible to miss.

"We have another imp class economy transport, ladies and gentlemen. It isn't Colonial Spaceways, but we can't take any chances. We'll tag the ship for a lamprey drone and hope for the best. The last five imp class implosions haven't made much news, but I suspect a ship ban or a recall isn't far off."

"Umm, Commander, what exactly is causing the implosions?" asked Ensign Barris. She was the newest member of Captain Fissure's crew. Her shining record at the naval academy and her youthful beauty had been deciding factors in the captain accepting her request for assignment to The Dark Horse.

"Homer-767?"

"Right, Commander," said the series 5 construct. "Imp class civilian transport vessels were designed with inertia dampeners powered by an isotope with a limited half life. The dampeners have been failing while entering or leaving the jump stream causing the ships to implode from the immense pressure. Five ships, all created on Earth 2, have failed in the last year. Four of which were registered with Colonial Spaceways." His blue Low-Face wore a monocle and a long goatee.

"Thank you, Homer-767." The Commander nodded. "The lamprey drone will monitor the flight and hopefully we can observe any pre-crisis signs that can be used to identify these problem flights before there's another incident. Captain?"

"Send two drones, attach one to record system readings throughout the jump, have the other observe from a distance incase of dampener failure." Fissure drank his coffee and gestured for his First Mate to continue.

"Homer-767, have the lamprey drones prepared for launch per Captain Fissure's suggestion."

"Aya aye, Commander. Should I inform the ship of the intrusion?"

"Dark Horse, what do you know about AST Imp Class economy transport, Singapore?" asked the captain.

A dark grey Low-Face appeared on screen. Narrow eyes set in a hawkish face darted around the room, studying each member of the crew in turn. Stern thin lips breathed reddish smoke at a steady interval giving the impression of heavy breathing. He finally settled on the captain. His head tilted forward in a slight bow, then he looked thoughtful.

"Singapore is a young AI, sassy and playful. Her moods are unpredictable. My recommendation is clandestine surveillance, Captain."

"Thank you, Dark Horse."

"With pleasure, Captain." The Low-Face faded in a cloud of red smoke, leaving only the jump schedule on screen.

"Homer-767, coordinate with Dark Horse," Commander Dally said. "This last ship is a barge from The Silent worlds heading to grid EE-3. It's jumping alone, but the ship's haze field is going to scramble the Station's telemetrics tools for at least three standard hours. We'll need to be on patrol. How are we looking on armaments, Lopez?

"We have our full contingent of fighters, but three of our pilots are down with a bug. Port lasers, and kinetic rail cannons are both scheduled for repairs."

"Scheduled for when, Gunnery Officer?"

The captain noticed that Dally was particularly hard on Lopez, while on duty. He wondered if that caused issues in their private life.

"Scheduled for tomorrow, Commander. Our maintenance application went in after yesterday's deadline as Dark Horse, Homni and I could not agree on the extent of the needed repairs." Lopez lowered his voice. "You know he hates when the station crew touches his insides."

"I can hear everything you say, Gunnery Officer Lopez," Dark Horse said, his voice coming from the helm's speakers. "I don't hate being touched. I hate when people don't put me back the way they find me."

"There was also the matter of our late night card game, Commander," Homni hummed.

The captain noticed most of the crew hid their faces at the mention of their consistent evening gambling.

"Yes, Homni, there was that too." Lopez glared at the overly forthcoming Raiel.

The rest of the crew snickered, but Commander Dally seemed unamused.

"Looks like you've volunteered to supervise the repairs tomorrow evening, Gunnery Officer," she said.

"Commander, please-"

"That is all on the topic. Pirates and raiders like to attack when the jump gate is down for calibration and repairs. They can't ignore a chance to hit ships waiting to dock. We'll have to be prepared for an attack, let's hope it doesn't come from the port side. You have your individual assignments, ladies and gentlemen. Let's have a productive day."

"Aye aye, Commander," the crew said in unison.

Captain Fissure raised his mug in salute to his second in command and resumed his book. The book club was meeting in three days, and he'd barely touched the reading selection. He finished the faux coffee, and skipped a couple pages. He just needed the gist of the text.

Five hours ago, standard time...

Ensign Wendy Barris dipped her hand in the bowl of Raielian harmonic oil and ran the sonic sensitive substance along the captain's back. She whispered his name and the oil danced to the sound, sending shivers of pleasure deep into his tissue. He moaned, causing another reaction with the oil.

The two were due back to the helm in less than an hour, so he refrained from putting the substance anywhere else, but the thought of the oil covering both of their bodies was enough to make him shiver. Wendy was young enough to be his granddaughter, which added even more excitement to their occasional dalliances.

"Captain, how old were you when you received your first commision?" She danced her fingers from the base of his neck to the small of his back.

"Wendy, please call me Jacolby," the captain said around vibrations brought on by his words. "Let's talk about something more interesting than my service record."

"You said we could talk about whatever I wanted, Captain, and I find your career interesting."

Jacolby knew she only feigned interest in his flirting because of his promises to help her advance, but he found himself pretending there was something more.

"I was twenty-four when I was given my first command, three years older than you. It was an old skiff on the border of the Croabarbas Wilderness back when the frogmen were still raiding human space."

"That promotion and the next were both field commissions?" Her voice quivered, but he couldn't tell if it was from the oil on her hands or her excitement about his advancement. The young woman had strange tastes.

"A lot of us earned promotions fighting raiders in those days. I made commander before 30, not many officers can say that."

"I know, captain, I read about you at the academy. You inspired me at a time when I wasn't sure if I wanted to go career or stay long enough to afford military division shares and leave a voter with military experience."

"Did I?" Captain Fissure hadn't been aware the ensign had followed him so closely. They'd fooled around for nearly a year and he hadn't bothered to ask any questions. He realized he was turning into the kind of man his ex-wife accused him of being. "It's easier to move up in the ranks with combat experience than administrative. You might not find what you're looking for on this ship."

"I'm looking for your guidance more than anything, sir."

"I can definitely guide you throu-"

The soft yellow lights turned red, bathing everything in bloody hues.

"Captain, you and Ensign Barris are needed at the helm immediately. There is an emergency," Dark Horse said, his face watched from the glass doors of the captain's bathroom. "I will inform Commander Dally that you will arrive in 5 minutes. That should be more than enough time to scrape off most of your lubricants and get dressed."

"Make that 8 minutes, Horse," the captain said as he jumped off his massage table and grabbed his uniform.

"With pleasure, Captain. The clock is ticking." Dark Horse's visage vanished to be replaced by a timer set to 8 minutes.

Ensign Barris was gone by the time the captain stepped out of the bathroom. It was probably for the best as Captain Fissure had been about to suggest they don't arrive together. It would look bad for the young officer to be seen as the kind of woman that would use quid pro quo to climb up the chain of command. The two took far more precautions than Dally and Lopez. Only Dark Horse knew about them, and the core AI would be discreet.

Captain Fissure took the lift one floor up and rushed down the long hall to the helm while hastily fastening his uniform. Shipmen, and constructs hurried out of the captain's path. Homni stood in the doorway, waiting for him. The Raiel had a way of consolidating the crew's collective mood and sharing it through song. It created a bond which helped the EC naval officers keep calm and focused. He started singing as the captain stepped through the door.

"Captain on deck!!" Gunnery Officer Lopez shouted.

The crew stood at attention, and saluted their commanding officer. He returned the salute and demanded to be briefed on the situation. The crew sat down while Commander Dally put data on screen. Charts and graphs from AST economy transport Singapore. From what Jacolby could tell everything looked normal. Dally was not one to panic so she wouldn't have requested him at the helm without reason.

"What am I looking at, Commander?" he asked.

"It's the Singapore, sir. Everything reads fine for the first leg of the jump, but then the crap hits the fan."

"The crap? Tell me she didn't explode mid-jump. Were any of the other ships within the blast radius?"

"No, Captain, she didn't explode." An audio file came up at Dally's behest. "Listen to this."

Captain! The doors aren't responding. They're jamming communications between the helm and the core AI.

Mayday. This is Captain Tsubasa Ato of AST Singapore. We are being hijacked by unknown assailants. They are heavily armed and my crew is not trained to handle such a threat. Mayday, may-

Captain, their insi-

The transmission was interrupted by the sound of energy weapon fire, and screams of panic. The captain shouting for his people to surrender was the last sound of the playback. Commander Dally swept the audio file aside and called forth a three dimensional rendering of the jump stream. Nine ships labeled with their port registration numbers. The Singapore was suspiciously missing.

"3.47 minutes after that transmission Singapore and Lamprey Drone 47 vanish from the stream."

"How could a ship that large disappear?" Captain Fissure asked, his voice taut with worry. There were whispers of a new kind of ship that could maneuver within the jump stream as easily as it could in free space. It was a frightening prospect when considering the vulnerable nature of a jumping ship.

"Homer-767, Dark Horse, we need speculations," said the commander.

"The numbers parallel a tactic used by Mecha extremists a decade ago. In simple terms the ship dives out of the jump stream and abruptly renters true space."

"That's impossible," remarked Ensign Kharahs.

"It isn't impossible, merely too dangerous to attempt," corrected Lieutenant Kirk-354.

Kharahs growled, but he conceded to the construct's logic. Kirk-354's position was a unique one, charged with observing the command crew and handling operational logistics. He was tasked with filling in for captain or first mate in the event that either were rendered unable to carry out their duties. He was a series 5 with a silver Low-Face, a blockish jaw, and narrow pinpricks for eyes.

"Only a machine could successfully make the split second calculations necessary to avoid tearing the ship apart," Dark Horse concluded.

There was a pause in Homni's song.

"Or a Raiel if he were inclined to take such action," the ship AI amended.

Homni smiled and continued his singing.

"So the three of you conclude that the hijackers took control of the ship and left dark space? Is there anyway to determine in which grid The Singapore reappeared?"

"Not with the current data, Captain Jacolby," answered Lieutenant Kirk-354.

Captain Fissure chewed his lip. His responsibility was to monitor and report activity at Trappist Station, as well as protect ships entering or leaving port. He could leave Singapore to her fate, but Ensign Barris caught his eye. The look on her face said everything. It was a chance to be a hero, and Captain Fissure couldn't pass on the opportunity.

"How many dark space beacons do we have onboard," he asked.

Commander Dally and Lieutenant Kirk-354 each gave him a questioning glance.

"Three fully operational beacons, Captain, and two experiencing transmission errors," replied Dark Horse.

"Three... is that enough for a tug to find us off stream?"

"Yes, if we stay within fifty light years of the beacons."

"What are you planning, Captain?" Commander Dally asked. The eyes of his crew turned to him expectantly.

"Lieutenant Kirk-354, do you believe you and Homer-767 can guide Dark Horse in a dive out of the jump stream in the same region that we lost The Singapore?"

"Statistically speaking anything is possible, Captain, but I must warn that this course of thinking is dangerous and puts the entire ship in harm's way."

"Noted. Can you do it?"

The lieutenant turned his screen to meet Homer-767, and the two constructs communicated through short range peer to peer interface. They were occupied for only a few seconds but seconds could be hours for a machine. When they were done both nodded at each other. Captain Fissure winked at his young ensign and sat in his command chair.

"We can do it, Captain."

"Good. Does anyone wish to file their objection to this dangerous course of action? No? Good. Prepare the ship, we're going hunting!"

Two hours ago, standard time...

Auxiliary lights strobed, warning claxons blared, and reports poured in from every department. Captain Jacolby rose to his feet and straightened his uniform. The dive had been bumpy, as the jump stream tore at The Dark Horse. He'd heard the hull resisting, and for a moment he questioned his resolve. Then came a moment of silence, followed by a deafening rending that threatened to tear open Captain Jacolby Fissure's skull. When the mind scrambling distortion of sound stopped he and most of his crew were on the floor, and The Dark Horse was once again in true space.

The constructs and the Raiel seemed unaffected by the celestial noise.

"We made it... I can't believe we made it," cried Gunnery Officer Lopez. He clung to his station as if afraid if he loosened his grip he'd be snatched by an aggressive current.

"We did. Good job, Lieutenant." The captain saluted and Kirk-354 did so in return. "Now get up, people. I need the status of my ship and I want to know where we are."

"You heard the captain, ladies and gentlemen. Let's get to it," Commander Dally shouted.

She'd somehow wound up beneath Ensign Kharahs' desk. The felarnian lay beside her, clawing at his ears.

"Homni, get medical checking on our crew members with sensitive hearing. That sound was overwhelming for me, I can't imagine the effect it had on them."

"On it, Commander."

"What exactly was it?" the captain asked.

"I believe it was an unexpected interaction between our combat shields and the edge of the jump stream," said Lieutenant Kirk-354 as he helped Ensign Barris to her feet.

"My audio sensors could not detect the noise, but I felt the vibration throughout my hull and substructure." Dark Horse's Low-Face was at each workstation conferring with the officers of the ship. "Preliminary reports suggest that only organic crew members were adversely affected. I am recording this phenomenon in your fleet report, sir."

"Thank you, Dark Horse. Homer-767, I need a report on our location."

"Sir, Dark Horse and I are comparing the local astrology with star charts of known space and we're having trouble finding a match."

Everyone looked up from their displays and datapads. They were beyond the limits of the known universe, in the vastness of the void.

"We knew this was a possibility. That's why we dropped the dark space beacons. More importantly that's why we came after The Singapore. 521 people are on board that ship, and we're going to save them." Saying the words gave the captain confidence. He'd never ventured into the true void. It was a young man's adventure, and he hadn't been young for decades.

"Sir, who's going to save us?" asked Lopez. The Gunnery Officer wore an expression of concern.

Captain Fissure knew him to be an excellent combat officer with an eye for large ship combat, but Andrew Lopez was not a brave man.

"The dark space beacons will alert a tug to our presence during the next sweep. When they pull on the beacons we'll rush through the tear in true space and be back in the stream."

"Or we'll collide with the stream and be smashed into tiny subatomic particles," the raiel hummed.

"Thank you, Homni."

"You're welcome, Captain."

A team from medical entered the helm and tended to the crew, starting with Kharahs. The

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