Frontiers 07 - The Expanse (6 page)

“And that would be at twenty light years per jump. We do not yet know how high we could run the mini-ZPEDs without interfering with our own systems. It is entirely possible that we may be able to jump even farther.”

Cameron could see that Nathan wanted this. She also knew that, when Nathan wanted something this badly, he had a tendency to take unnecessary risks. It was a bad habit that had been facilitated by his wealthy, well-connected parents during his adolescence. He had gotten better since leaving Earth, but that jump-first attitude was still in him. Cameron, on the other hand, was exactly the opposite, always analyzing the consequences and alternatives. It was why the Aurora’s original captain had chosen her and Nathan as his flight team. “I thought the ZPEDs caused problems with the jump drive’s operation.”

“When used at higher outputs, yes,” Doctor Sorenson admitted.

“Can our emitters even tolerate the higher energy?”

“No, they cannot. The emitters would have to be replaced.”

“Can we even do that?” Cameron wondered.

“We have a redundant emitter network, thanks to the Takarans,” Nathan reminded Cameron. “We could replace those emitters without touching the primaries.”

“How long would that take?”

“We replaced thirty-some-odd emitters over Corinair in less than a day,” Nathan said.

“Yes, and two men died doing so.”

“That was because of the radiation levels in the Darvano system.”

“I haven’t run the numbers, as I am not really qualified to make such judgments,” Abby said.

“I’ll talk to Vladimir about it,” Nathan said, “but I think it’s worth considering, don’t you, Commander?” Nathan looked at his executive officer.

“Considering? Yes. But perhaps it would be better to start with the basics and work our way up to fifty light year jumps,” Cameron urged.

“Of course,” Abby agreed. “Ideally, I would like to begin increasing our jump range by one light year per jump over the next five jumps. If there are not any problems, we can reassess the idea at that time.”

“Sounds reasonable enough to me,” Nathan said.

Cameron sat, holding her tongue. She did not care for the idea of using the Aurora, their only means of getting back to Earth, as a test ship. “That still doesn’t shorten our recharge time. How were you planning on shortening that?”

“By using the mini-ZPEDs to assist in the recharge process and then powering them back down before the actual jump.”

“I see.” Cameron looked at Nathan, who appeared to be waiting for her approval. “What?”

“I’d like to know you’re on board with this, Commander,” Nathan stated.

“The idea of getting home in three days is, of course, appealing,” Cameron admitted, “assuming that it all works as hoped. I’m just not comfortable taking risks with our only ship.”

“Neither am I, Commander,” Abby agreed. “But every jump we have made since we left Earth has been a risk. The fact that the jump drive has performed as reliably as it has is nothing short of miraculous. It was never intended to be used so extensively. After all, it was a prototype.”

“That’s a very good point,” Nathan said.

“Yes, it is,” Cameron agreed.

“Very well, Doctor,” Nathan stated. “You may begin increasing the range by one light year per jump over the next five jumps. In the meantime, I’ll discuss our idea for the hybrid drive with our chief engineer. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Abby stood. “Commander.”

Cameron waited for Doctor Sorenson to leave the ready room before speaking further. “Promise me you won’t let yourself get carried away with this hybrid idea, Nathan.”

Nathan was a bit surprised by her sudden, informal tone, but he had told her on more than one occasion to drop the formalities when they were alone. “Me, get carried away?”

* * *

Marcus scratched his head as he stared at the open end of a Corinairan troop shuttle. “It’s not a mechanics problem, Major,” Marcus argued. “It’s a power problem. These here shuttles just don’t generate enough power to give’m both shields and guns. They’re only carryin’ the standard fusion generators. Hell, the one in my hauler back on Haven was more powerful.”

“If we’re going to turn these into combat landers that can fly into a hot LZ, we’re going to need both shields and guns,” Major Waddell insisted, speaking loud enough to be heard over the noise of the Aurora’s main hangar bay.

“I ain’t arguing that point, but you’re gonna have to choose one or the other.”

“I need both,” the major insisted. “Can we just use one at a time? Ride down with shields, then switch them off on final approach so we can start using guns to calm down the LZ just before touchdown?”

“Maybe, but if something goes wrong and you try to use both, you might cause an automatic shutdown of the reactors and fall from the sky. Not a pleasant thought. Besides, them reactors are so pitiful I ain’t even sure they’ll be able to handle any extra load beyond that of flyin’ the shuttle.”

“Excuse me,” Lieutenant Montgomery interrupted from behind. “Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“Really?” Marcus asked. Like most of the crew, he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of having Takarans on board, even if they were ones that Tug trusted.

“If I’m not mistaken, the fusion reactors in this model are very outdated by Takaran standards. It would be no trouble at all to fabricate upgraded reactors that would more than handle your power needs.”

“Is that so?” Major Waddell asked. “Thanks, but we’ll handle this on our own, Takaran.”

Lieutenant Montgomery looked confused for a moment.

“I don’t know, Major,” Marcus mumbled. “Maybe we’d better take him up on his offer…”

“Dismissed, Lieutenant,” Major Waddell said sternly to Lieutenant Montgomery, cutting Marcus off.

“Is there a problem, here?” Major Prechitt interrupted.

“No problem at all, Major,” Waddell said. “I was just telling the lieutenant that he was dismissed.”

“I think I’d like to hear more about the lieutenant’s idea, Major. How about you, Senior Chief?”

Marcus’s eyes darted nervously back and forth between the two majors. “Uh, I could go either way… sirs.”

“No disrespect intended, Major, but this isn’t really any of your…”

“Actually, since I am the CAG, and this is one of my ships, it is my business,” Major Prechitt insisted. He turned to the lieutenant. “Lieutenant Montgomery, submit your proposal to the senior chief for review.”

“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Montgomery answered.

“Senior Chief, once you have reviewed the lieutenant’s proposal, comment on it and send it to my office for approval.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Major? Any questions?”

“No, sir,” Major Waddell answered, his eyes locked on the lieutenant and full of rage.

Waddell’s angry gaze did not go unnoticed by Major Prechitt. “Dismissed, Major,” he stated with absolute authority.

Major Waddell said nothing further, turned, and walked briskly across the hangar deck away from them.

“Senior Chief, Lieutenant,” Major Prechitt said calmly as he departed their company.

There was a moment of silence as neither the senior chief nor the lieutenant knew exactly what to say. Finally, the lieutenant broke the uncomfortable quiet. “I apologize, Senior Chief. I was only trying to help.”

“Yeah, I know,” Marcus said.

“If I had known that the major would react so…”

“Look,” Marcus interrupted, “just because I ain’t givin’ you the evil eye don’t mean that I like you any more than Waddell or any other Corinairan aboard this ship. Truth be told, I’d be happier if none of you were here. But you are, and there ain’t shit I can do about that. So just go on about your business, and I’ll go on about mine. You can send me your proposal for the reactor upgrades through the network.” Marcus turned abruptly and walked away, leaving the lieutenant standing alone in the busy hangar bay.

* * *

“Thank you all for coming,” Nathan stated as he entered the command briefing room and took his seat. They had been underway for nearly five days now, and for a change, things had settled into a comfortable routine on board the Aurora. By now, his senior staff knew better than to come to attention when their captain entered, having been told by him time and again that he considered such formalities a waste of time in the briefing room. He wanted more informal discussions to take place in this room so his staff would feel more comfortable expressing their opinions openly. He had learned how to turn up the formality as needed, and his staff had learned how to read such cues as well.

“Why don’t you start us off, Doctor, since this meeting is primarily about the jump drive.”

“As you know, sir, we began increasing our range by one light year per jump back with jump ten, carefully analyzing the data after each jump. We completed jump fifteen a few hours ago, and I’m happy to report that we have seen no problems with either the performance or the accuracy of the jumps, even during the last jump of fifteen light years.”

“How are the mini-ZPEDs working out?” Nathan wondered.

“They are amazing devices,” Vladimir exclaimed. “Thanks to Lieutenant Montgomery and his team, interfacing them with the jump drive’s energy storage banks was not a problem.”

“We have been running the ZPEDs at twenty-five percent of their maximum output in order to recharge the energy banks more quickly,” Abby explained. “We estimate it will take just over seven hours to fully recharge after a fifteen light year jump.”

“That’s good news, Doctor,” Nathan declared.

“Have there been any problems noted with the use of the ZPEDs?” Cameron wondered. “I mean, have they had any noticeable effect on the jump drive’s performance?”

“None that we could detect,” Abby stated. “However, we have been taking the ZPEDs completely offline prior to jumping, just to be safe.”

“Any chance we can squeeze a few more light years out of the drive?” Nathan asked.

“Doubtful, Captain. We are going to try to overcharge the energy banks during this recharge cycle in the hopes that we will have at least enough power left for a short-range escape jump, maybe a light day or so. I do not believe that the energy banks can store any more power than that.”

“Pity,” Nathan mumbled, taking a deep breath.

“Something wrong, sir?” Cameron asked.

“I was secretly hoping for a bit more range; that’s all.”

“Perhaps now would be a good time to begin replacing the secondary jump field emitters,” Vladimir suggested.

Nathan looked at Abby. “Doctor?”

“Before we commit to the idea, I would like to try running the ZPEDs at low levels during a standard jump being fed by the energy banks.”

“How low?” Cameron wondered.

“Less than ten percent.”

“How about less than one percent?” Nathan suggested. “And work your way up with each jump, as long as nothing goes wrong.”

“It would take at least five percent output from a pair of mini-ZPEDs to power a ten light year jump without using the energy banks, Captain.”

“I understand that, Doctor. However, I’m not convinced that it is safe to run them at all, at least not during a jump. Start with one percent and work your way up from there.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

“There’s no reason we can’t start manufacturing the new emitters while she is testing the effects of ZPEDs on the jump drive field generators,” Vladimir stated.

“What if we don’t end up using them?” Cameron asked.

“We will just make a handful for testing and validation. We won’t start a full production run until we are sure that the hybrid drive project is approved.”

“How long does it take to fabricate an emitter?” Nathan asked.

“About four hours using a single fabricator, and we have four of them,” Vladimir explained.

“What about raw materials?”

“We have plenty of them in the hold, sir,” Cameron told him. “In fact, we still have most of the ore from our time in the rings of Haven as well.”

“Very well. Go ahead and start fabrication for now. How many jumps will you need to collect enough data, Doctor?”

“Five jumps should suffice.”

“What are you going to do with the additional power being generated by the ZPEDs?” Cameron asked.

“We will feed it into the ship’s power grid,” Vladimir explained. “It is not a problem.”

“Will five jumps give you enough time to fully validate the new emitter design?” Nathan asked Vladimir.

“It should be plenty,” Vladimir assured him.

“Very well, Doctor. You may begin the next phase of testing.”

“Anything else we need to talk about?” Nathan looked around the room. “Very well, dismissed.”

* * *

“Lieutenant Commander,” Major Waddell greeted as he entered the security office.

Jessica turned away from her display to face Waddell from behind her desk. “Major Waddell.”

“You asked to see me?”

“Yes, take a seat, Major.” She waited as the major pulled up a chair and sat down on the opposite side of the desk from her. “Commander Taylor has asked me to deal with a particular problem.”

“What problem might that be?”

“It seems that there is friction between some of the Corinairans and the Takaran specialists on board.”

“That’s to be expected, is it not? We were at war with them only a month ago.”

“Perhaps, but not with any of these men. They are all civilians.”

“Not all of them,” Major Waddell corrected.

“Lieutenant Montgomery’s rank was administrative. He was never a combatant.”

“He wears the uniform of the Ta’Akar…”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, Major,” Jessica interrupted, “but the patch has changed. It’s not the uniform of the Ta’Akar he wears; it’s the Takaran Defense Force.”

“Same military, different name.”

“No, it’s not. Not even close. Different agenda, different philosophy, different leaders…”

“Same colors, same arrogance, same…”

“Perhaps I’m not making myself clear, Major,” Jessica stated, the tone of her voice becoming more formal. “You are to treat the Takarans no differently than you would treat any Corinairan, or Terran for that matter. Is that clear?”

“Forgive me, Lieutenant Commander. I haven’t had the time to study up on the ranking system of the Terran military, or how it compares with that of the Corinari…”

“Then let me make it crystal clear for you, Major. I’m the head of security on this ship. Your unit is attached to my command. You are under my command. That makes me your commanding officer. It doesn’t matter if I’m an ensign or an admiral; I’m still your boss. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Yes, sir,” the major responded smartly.

“Now knock the stupid, childish shit off and act your rank, Major, or you’ll be relieved of your command, and you’ll spend the rest of the voyage confined to your quarters. Is
that
understood?”

“Yes, sir.” There was no emotion in the major’s response.