“I’d like to say I’m prepared for that eventuality, but I’d much prefer it if something came from this mission,” said Lanson.

  “Me too, Captain. And it’s a long way home.”

  Lanson didn’t continue the conversation. Instead, he turned his attention to the propulsion output tools on his console. Back on Lorimos, when the Galos had been on the verge of implosion, the New Beginning’s maximum engine output had climbed like it would never stop. The readings were still sky high, but they kept jumping between values – sometimes significantly – as if the control hardware was unable to comprehend the data it was receiving.

  Despite Lieutenant Abrams’ best efforts to interpret the output readings, he had so far been unable to understand exactly what was happening to the New Beginning’s propulsion. He opined that even had the Human Confederation and Sagh’eld hardware been perfectly tied in, the data would still be beyond interpretation since the limitations were within the engine controllers.

  It was another reason to get the propulsion testing underway, in order to provide concrete values on velocity and acceleration.

  An hour went by and Lanson didn’t disturb Abrams or Massey. Eventually, his efforts at remaining patient were rewarded.

  “Captain, had there been no inaccuracy in the endpoint calculations, we’d have ended up on the orbital track of the third known planet circling that star,” said Abrams.

  “Let’s take a look at it,” said Lanson, calling up the details which Turner and Perry had gathered.

  Those details, gathered from such a distance, were scant. The planet was half a billion kilometres from the star, with a diameter approximately fifty percent greater than that of Earth. The scans suggested a rocky surface, along with the presence of various metals.

  “Looks just like a trillion others,” said Lanson.

  “Were you expecting something different, Captain?” asked Perry.

  “I don’t know,” said Lanson. “Maybe I’ll just take things as they come.”

  The bridge went quiet and Lanson’s eyes kept going to the clock. After a tedious six hours had passed, Commander Matlock and Lieutenant Turner arrived back on the bridge.

  Despite his earlier misgivings about the wisdom of stress testing the New Beginning, Lanson couldn’t wait to begin. He placed his hands on the control bars and spoke to his crew.

  “Right folks, it’s time to get this testing underway.”

  FOUR

  Lanson’s intended testing methodology was straightforward. He would increase the New Beginning’s velocity to see how high it would go, at the same time allowing Lieutenants Abrams and Massey to gather readings from the propulsion.

  “Let’s do this,” said Lanson.

  He pushed the controls steadily along their guide slots. The engine note changed from a background rumble into a hard-edged metallic sound, and the velocity reading climbed with the same urgency Lanson remembered from back on Lorimos. Electronic needles on his console raced from left to right, and the backend computer was forced to increase the numbers on the gauge.

  “Five hundred klicks per second in hardly any time,” said Lanson, using the internal comms in his suit to ensure he was heard.

  The velocity gauge continued heading upwards. The hard edges of the propulsion gradually smoothed away, and Lanson heard both a whining and a howl rising to prominence. Next time he glanced at the velocity gauge, it was reading seven hundred kilometres per second and its rate of increase was no longer so urgent. Holding the control bars at their farthest extreme, he watched the velocity top out at eight hundred kilometres per second.

  Disappointed, Lanson hauled back on the controls and brought the warship to a standstill.

  “The New Beginning peaked at 2200 kilometres per second when we escaped from Lorimos,” he said. “And while I realise the output readings are all over the place, some of those readings are recognizably much higher than I’d expect from a Sagh’eld destroyer.”

  “One moment, Captain,” said Abrams. “I’m checking the outputs of the monitoring tools.”

  Lanson drummed his fingers as he waited. He recalled the sound of the warship’s propulsion not long after the Galos had imploded – how the howl of the engines turned into a peculiar droning that spoke of serenity and technological perfection. If the New Beginning could no longer surpass eight hundred kilometres per second, it wouldn’t have much of an outright velocity advantage over an Ex’Kaminar battleship.

  Even at 2200 klicks per second, it would be suicide to engage an Ex’Kaminar, Lanson reminded himself.

  “I think this is beginning to make sense,” said Abrams.

  “What is?” asked Lanson.

  Abrams was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Captain, when I compare the readings from now with those our instrumentation recorded at Lorimos, it appears as if the New Beginning’s Rodos drive was in the middle of a runaway reaction, but has now settled into a much more stable alignment.”

  “A runaway reaction doesn’t suddenly become stable,” said Lanson. “Besides, the maximum engine output should be enough to propel the New Beginning to a higher velocity than eight hundred kilometres per second.”

  “That’s right, sir,” said Abrams, sounding pained. “In fact, our maximum output is higher now than it’s ever been.”

  “So why can’t we tap into the full available output?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet, Captain,” said Abrams. “Maybe some more testing would allow me to gather the data I need.”

  Lanson didn’t know why he felt so angry. Normally, he enjoyed revealing the unknown, but on this occasion, there was too much riding on finding the answers. It wasn’t just this mission which might depend on him extracting the best out of the warship, but the Human Confederation as a whole would benefit from anything he and his crew could learn about the New Beginning’s propulsion system and how it had been affected by the Galos.

  “Let’s run those tests now,” said Lanson.

  In frustration, he pushed the control bars hard, as far as they would go. A wave of sound – like a series of booms mixed with a shriek of overstressed metal – struck Lanson. His suit absorbed most of the energy, but he still felt the pressure of it.

  On Lanson’s control console, the sensor feeds went blank, and the propulsion readings were all way higher than anything he’d seen before. And still the sound didn’t subside.

  Lanson’s brain caught up and he pulled back on the controls. For a second or two, the booming and the metallic shrieking continued, and he felt sure the New Beginning had suffered a catastrophic hardware failure. Then, the sounds receded rapidly, and the engine note returned to its usual background hum.

  “What the hell?” said Lanson. “What happened there? Where are the sensor feeds?”

  “The sensors shut down, Captain,” said Turner. “They’re coming back online.”

  “Lieutenant Abrams?” Lanson demanded.

  “You’ll have the answers as soon as I do, Captain.”

  Abruptly, the propulsion output fell to its usual level. However, Lanson remembered the readings he’d seen only moments before, which had been incredible in magnitude.

  “The sensors are online, sir,” said Turner. “We’re uh—”

  “What is it?”

  “We’re in a different location to before, Captain,” said Turner. “The New Beginning has travelled almost a billion kilometres.”

  “And there’s a potential problem with the engines, Captain,” said Abrams. “There are output spikes on one of the main Rodos modules – I think it’s on the verge of losing stability.”

  “Can you shut it down, Lieutenant?”

  “I can, Captain, but I don’t know what will happen when we bring the module back online.”

  “What’s your advice?”

  “If we shut down the module, we might have to leave it shut down, Captain. That’ll deprive us of a significant percentage of our total output. On the other hand, you could argue that we have output to spare.”

  The only realistic option was to shut down the propulsion module, and Lanson opened his mouth to give the order. However, Abrams spoke first.

  “Wait!” he said. “The output spikes are settling.”

  “Do we need to shut down that Rodos module?” Lanson pressed.

  “No, Captain, the spikes have vanished.”

  “Just like that,” said Lanson.

  “Yes, sir. The atomic structure of our engines must have enormous underlying stability and it settled back into its usual state without intervention.”

  Lanson felt his head spinning. To him, the Galos had been the embodiment of pure chaos, and yet, the alterations its acceleration field had made to the New Beginning were highly ordered.

  “Lieutenant Abrams, Lieutenant Massey, I want you to continue your studies of our propulsion. Until I know something of its limitations, I can’t risk pushing the New Beginning as hard as I might like.”

  “So if I’m understanding this correctly, we just executed an instant lightspeed jump,” said Commander Matlock.

  “That’s right, Commander,” said Lieutenant Turner. “And like I said earlier, we travelled about a billion klicks.”

  “Furthermore, the New Beginning was in motion when it happened,” said Abrams. “That isn’t possible using our existing lightspeed tech.”

  “How did you trigger the jump, Captain?” asked Matlock. “What did you do that was different to our first velocity test?”

  “I pushed the control bars straight from zero to one hundred percent,” said Lanson.

  “You probably want to be careful doing that again, sir,” said Abrams. “I think you managed to tap into the maximum engine reserves in a way that wasn’t happening when you increased the New Beginning’s velocity gradually.”

  “Does this mean I can send us into lightspeed by repeating the method?” asked Lanson.

  “I don’t see why not,” said Abrams. “But those output spikes might reappear, and I can’t guarantee they’ll vanish like they did last time.”

  “Am I right in thinking we just achieved something which Human Confederation scientists believe can’t be done?” asked Matlock. “We entered lightspeed without calculating the vector of a tunnel?”

  “We’ve proved it’s not impossible,” said Lanson. “Any ideas, Lieutenant Abrams?”

  “I just checked our core utilisation logs and they don’t show any significant changes at the time of our lightspeed entry,” said Abrams. “Which means – just like Commander Matlock said - we entered lightspeed without any calculations.”

  “The New Beginning’s propulsion brute force opened the tunnel?” asked Lanson in disbelief.

  “Either that or something else happened which is so far removed from our current understanding that we can’t even begin to guess at it, sir.”

  Lanson’s brain was turning. “I can’t remember how long I held the control bars at maximum – no more than a couple of seconds, I’d guess.”

  “I can get you an exact value from the logs, Captain,” said Massey.

  “Thank you – and with that exact value, we’d be able to estimate the warship’s lightspeed multiplier,” Lanson continued.

  “Based on distance travelled alone, the multiplier was a low one, Captain. Very low,” said Abrams. “However, if it was a static multiplier, we should definitely be able to assign it a number. Unless of course, the multiplier increases as a function of how long the control bars are held at maximum.”

  “What I’m building to is this,” said Lanson. “Would it be possible to create a new control routine that would change the propulsion output from zero to one hundred percent for a precise amount of time specified at my control panel?”

  “I see what you’re asking for,” said Abrams. “You’d like to have granular control over the distance travelled should you need to send the New Beginning into another instant lightspeed transit.”

  “That’s exactly what I want,” said Lanson.

  “Are you planning to use the same method to send us into lightspeed again, Captain?” asked Matlock doubtfully. “We can’t afford to lose any of our propulsion modules while we’re so far from home. Plus, we don’t know what’ll happen if we find ourselves with a runaway reaction and the shutdown command fails.”

  “I accept what you’re saying,” said Lanson. “And no, I’m not planning any more instant transits. However, we have a mission ahead of us, and if I’m faced with a choice between having my warship blown to pieces, or attempting a risky-as-hell getaway, you can be damned sure I’ll take my chances with the getaway.”

  “I thought that’s what you’d say, but it’s my duty is to make sure you’re aware of the alternatives,” said Matlock with a grin.

  Lanson smiled in return. “I don’t want to lose the New Beginning, Commander, but I damn well want to give us the best shot at gaining something from this mission.” He twisted in his seat. “How long would it take you to set up the new control routines, Lieutenant Abrams?”

  “You’ve already given me plenty to work on, Captain. Is this a priority?”

  “Yes. How long?”

  “The coding itself should be straightforward,” Abrams mused. “I should be able to add a limiter to the control bars, to prevent them instantly accessing one hundred percent of the available output – that way you won’t accidentally activate an instant transit. After that, I can put a list onto your tactical that gives you some choices on how far you want the New Beginning to travel using the instant transit. I’d assign the activation to one of the side buttons on your control bars. All you’d need to do would be to tap the distance you want to travel on the tactical list and then press the activation button.”

  “That sounds like a great solution,” said Lanson. “I’m glad you have a background in coding.”

  “Me too, sir,” said Abrams. “And I’m glad when I get a chance to test my skills.”

  “How long will it take you to have the new control routine up and running?” asked Lanson.

  “A few hours, sir. It’ll be the debugging that takes the longest, since I won’t have a backup system to test the coding on. And I have to remind you that we still don’t know if the instant transit multiplier is a static value when the metaphorical throttle is wide open. If it’s a changing value, I’ll have to modify the coding later.”

  “I wish I could offer you the results from a second test, Lieutenant,” said Lanson.

  “I know, Captain. It’s not a justifiable risk when the New Beginning is under no threat.”

  “Are we going to give Lieutenant Abrams the time he needs to finish the new control routines, sir?” asked Matlock.

  Lanson shook his head. “I want to see some progress on this mission, Commander. If I need to activate an ILT in an emergency situation, I won’t hesitate to do so.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Lieutenant Massey, do you have the coordinates of the third planet out from the star?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s our destination. I’d like us to exit lightspeed a quarter of a million klicks from the planet.”

  “Yes, sir,” Massey replied. “Our destination is set and the New Beginning is readying for a lightspeed transit – warmup time is six minutes.”

  A six-minute warmup put the Sagh’eld destroyer about on par with a Human Confederation heavy cruiser, and those were usually fitted with four processing cores, rather than the two on the New Beginning. It would be damned nice, Lanson thought, if the HC could start catching up in a few of the areas where its tech was currently lacking. Perhaps this mission would be the start of it.

  Pushing the thoughts from his head, Lanson let the thrumming sound of the New Beginning’s propulsion wash over him. At six minutes, the engines thundered and the sensors went offline, and he felt the familiar kick in the back of lightspeed entry.

  Lanson waited to find out what – if anything – there was to discover on this unknown planet.

  FIVE

  “Sensors coming online,” said Lieutenant Turner.

  The feeds reappeared all at once, though for the moment they were showing nothing but darkness.

  “Local area scans underway,” said Perry.

  “I’m attempting to obtain a sensor lock on the planet,” said Turner.

  A warship always emerged from lightspeed at near-zero velocity, and Lanson requested power from the New Beginning’s engines. Once the warship had achieved a hundred kilometres per second, he banked it onto a circular course.

  “I used our auto-generating software to create a name for the planet,” said Matlock. “From now on, the place is called Scalos.”

  “Scalos it is,” said Lanson.

  “I’ve obtained a lock on Scalos, Captain,” said Turner. “It’s at a quarter-million klicks, so we came in right on the nose.”

  Lanson turned his attention to the starboard feeds. Viewed from this much closer range, the planet was hardly more interesting that it had seemed from out on the fringes of the solar system. A thin, unbreathable atmosphere clung to a surface of barren rock. Lanson spotted the usual features of bleak, endless plains, high mountains, and the snaking paths of parched riverbeds.

  “It doesn’t look like much,” he conceded, trying not to sound disappointed. “Commence surface scans.”

  “Surface scans commenced,” Turner confirmed.

  “The local area sweep is finished and clear, sir,” said Perry. “Should I turn my focus on the planet?”

  “No – keep running the near scans.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Turner applied enhancements to the starboard feed, more details of Scalos became apparent. The planet was windswept, though not incredibly so, and the changing shades of the surface colour indicated that dust or grit was being whipped along near ground level. Extensive patches of grey ice created a diagonal belt a few hundred kilometres wide, which vanished out of sight around the planet’s curve.

  “Is there any sign of habitation?” asked Lanson.

  “None so far, Captain, but I’m still checking,” said Turner. “Judging by the winds, anything on the surface would have likely been eroded long ago. Scalos isn’t a hospitable place.”