Part 20: Away We Go

The Bucephalus pulled out of the Rock, heavy with silence. Missing John and Jade probably had much to do with that. So far as Michael could tell, those were the most social members of the crew. But beyond that, Kwame had been avoiding any conversation that wasn’t related to the task at hand, which seemed fine with Alex, who had plenty of his own problems to worry about, or so it seemed to Michael. The silence only served to accentuate the turmoil Michael could sense from the others.

None of this bothered him, however. Jade’s absence in the cockpit allowed Michael to sit in with Alex. Kwame busied himself below with maintenance and making preparations to take on cargo. He would have a unique opportunity to quietly sit, observe, and absorb. 

Michael loved being in the cockpit of the Bucephalus. He loved every trip through the asteroid field surrounding the Rock. Weaving in and out of danger, the way the ship deftly dodged and rolled. Compared to other ships of the day, even other cargo ships, the Bucephalus wasn’t anything special. Even with the modifications that Byron made, it still was a subpar vessel. But compared to the spacecraft Michael piloted in his own time, the Bucephalus was a marvel.

The controls were entirely alien to Michael the first time he looked them over. That wasn’t just a figure of speech, Kilons, Redipsilons, and scores of other races shared designs with humans as mankind spread through the galaxy. If he had to fly it then, he wouldn’t even know how to turn it on. But Michael spent hours sitting in with Jade and Alex, learning the ins and outs.

The controls were context related. With the ship powered down, they were nothing more than a blank, glossy surface. Depending on what was needed, different controls would appear, either as tactile buttons on the touch surface, or as projected holograms, with technology similar to the kinetic shields allowing the user to feel the controls. In a normal piloting scenario, you’d have your typical yoke, throttle, pitch and yaw, navigation, and communication. Salvage and cargo operations would create a new set of controls, and combat would create another.

Important information was displayed on the touchscreen or projected onto the cockpit window. The heads up display showed navigation markers and obstacles to avoid. In combat it tracked enemy ships, helping to predict their movements and attacks. Yes, for Michael, just being in the cockpit was amazing.

But more than what was happening inside the ship, Michael loved traveling to spaceports. Ships and species from innumerable worlds mixed, weaving the tapestry of the galaxy. And after a few hours in hyperspace, the Bucephalus arrived at the largest spaceport Michael had seen so far; Miraxix Station.

Miraxix Station was built at the nexus of several hyperspace routes, an enormous hub of intergalactic commerce. As the  Bucephalus dropped out of hyperspace and joined a line of traffic, Michael rose from his seat to get a better look out of the viewport.

            The crew had traveled to plenty of spaceports since Michael had joined them, but none were so massive. Refueling, ship maintenance, and logistics substations orbited around the central spaceport.

            The spaceport was an enormous cylinder, open to space on both ends and rotating to produce gravity. Thousands of towers and spires projected from the outer surface, allowing access for ships that were too large to safely fly inside. Millions of people from every species in the galaxy called Miraxix Station home. The majority of them lived their entire lives there, from birth to death. If you purchased any goods from a world that was not your own, odds are that it passed through here at some point in its transit from production to consumption.

            Michael tried to soak it all in. He’d been studying up on the station in preparation for the mission, but nothing he had read could prepare him for the enormity of it all. Despite all of the worries Alex had in his mind, he couldn’t help but to crack a small grin as he watched Michael stretch closer and closer to the viewport.

            The smile was short lived, however, as Alex saw something else; a pair of Kilon heavy cruisers were patrolling. Looking more closely, he could make out several smaller Kilon Expeditionary Force ships flying with them, randomly docking with the cargo ships that were waiting for access to the station.

            Miraxix Station was independent, but with the increase in pirate activities, the station had nominally come under the protection of the Kilon Federation. Alex reached over to get Michael’s attention.

            “So many… so many… wow…” Michael was muttering to himself when he felt Alex tap him on the shoulder.

            “Look,” Alex said, pointing to the Kilon ships.

Michael turned his attention to them. “We are here on a fully legal job, correct? And our documentation is correct?”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“So we have nothing to be concerned about with the Kilon authorities, right?”

“That’s all true… but I just don’t like seeing them here. The sooner we get the cargo and get out, the better I’ll feel. I need you to be alert.”

“I will. However, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

*****

            Commander Darlon scanned the report from his survey team. They’d just returned from inspecting another Terran freighter. “Everything looks clean here,” he said to the freighter’s captain, “we apologize for the inconvenience, you are free to continue on your way.”

            “Acknowledged Commander,” the captain replied.

            Commander Darlon didn’t let it change his outer demeanor, but he the tedium of the security sweeps was making him weary. But he understood the importance of his job. The Miraxix Station was an incredibly important hub for commerce, and one attack could send reverberations through the entire galactic economy.

            The attack on the Pillar of Hercules was a wakeup call. It was much more than simple pirates. It was organized and well equipped. Commander Darlon was aboard one of the first Kilon ships to respond to the emergency call, arriving in time to see a small freighter making the jump to hyperspace. They didn’t have time to get an ID on the vessel, but Darlon could still picture the ship.

            He just happened to look up from his report when a small freighter caught his attention. Out of the plethora of ships, one tiny freighter stood out. He radioed to the captain in charge of the task force. “This is Commander Darlon, requesting permission to deviate from the designated patrol vector…”