People often ask me “Why do you post stories as blog posts?” and the answer is, well, because I can…
And I also take an absolute age to write anything.
So it serves one of several functions. As a test bed for ideas and as proof, that you know, I’m still alive and writing. At the moment, I’m determinedly trying to finish off the next chapter for the Anya, before I go back to anything else (Sorry Beth fans- sad face emoji).
When things get to a certain state, the blogs are removed and released into the wild. The reason ‘To space and beyond’ hasn’t been removed and released, is because it’s missing bits. Actually, it’s missing lots of bits.
What follows is the ongoing effort to marry up existing ‘Anya’ to ‘Space and beyond’. It’s still an early draft, so treat it like an Early Access computer game for all the gaming nerds out there. You are getting it early, but there are flaws awaiting correction…
The (sort of) good news, is that the existing blog posts and the one following this, consist of 40K words, so there is a need to get the damn thing fixed and posted onto The Anya (part two) sometime this century, or before I get run over by a bus or eaten by a lion. Given the bus service around here, my life is in severe danger from lions... So to recap, it’s the Anya (part two) THEN this blog and it’s follow on, and after that, it’s To Space and Beyond’….
Right! Enough of this procrastination…
*****
“Bay five is clear Niall!” The shout cut through the murmur of quiet voices in the command centre.
“Roger that.” Niall looked at the queue list on his fourth screen to see which craft was next. He studied the data streaming in on his main screen, snorting and shaking his head. A glance at his notes on the second screen, to see who was on duty at bay seven, which was the originator of his disbelief. His headset was his father's, who had held this position before him, yet somehow, given that it was older than he was, the sound quality and simple functions were far better than modern versions. Even if it did plug into the console via a cable rather than wirelessly like everyone else’s. Niall had tried a newer model, but somehow, it just didn't feel right. And that was with discounting the family connection.
Without taking his eyes from the screen, Niall’s left hand sought out the in-line controller that was slightly smaller than his thumb. The controller contained just four buttons on one face, and a rotary dial inside with just a sliver of the edge protruding from the side. Without looking and barely any thought, his thumb rotated the dial, each slight resistance before a moment of free rotation denoted the transfer to another channel.
“Sondre, are you on channel?”
“Go ahead Niall.”
“The scans are in for seven. It's a big fat fail. A really bad fail. I doubt its even airtight. I would not recommend staying too long inside.”
“Roger that Niall.”
Nail's thumb twitched and the dial moved again.
“Outer rim hauler, The Anya, this is Harkone Control, over.”
“Harkone Control this is the Anya.”
“You are cleared for docking at inspection bay five.” Niall moved the controller in his right hand and clicked on the ready status for bay five, knowing the lights around the docking clamp would now be illuminated to show availability.
“Moving to bay five now, over.”
“That is all Anya. Out.”
*****
Sondre looked at her team of three. By rights she didn't even have to enter the airlock, but she was a stickler for justification. The scans could be wrong. Doubtful, but not impossible.
“Helmets on.” She commanded, as she donned her own and entered the air lock come decontamination chamber. Her team followed suit, towing their equipment in after
them.
The cycle was quick, no decontamination required. Sondre stepped from the chamber into the crafts airlock and immediately knew this would be a quick visit after all.
“Don't bother unpacking.” She ordered of her crew. Their gear was in hermetically sealed crates and as long as they didn't open them, they wouldn't need to decontaminate the contents.
“I've been in cleaner toilets.”
“I think this is the toilet.”
Sondre, with the experience of years, ignored the banter amongst her small team.
The craft’s air lock cycled open into a corridor that belonged in a horror vid. The individual stood in front of Sondre, certainly looked like he was from a horror vid.
The ship suit he was wearing, was every bit as dirty as the walls were. The exposed skin not much cleaner.
“Are you going to be long? I've got important people to see.”
Sondre activated her helmet speaker. “No, not long at all sir.”
“Good.”
“But that’s because your... craft... failed mandatory exterior hull integrity tests. Access to Inner Space has been denied.”
“What! Nonsense! The hull was checked just last week! I have the paperwork to prove it!”
“Be that as it may. However, just standing here, I see six serious code violations. That's all I need to fail the internal exam. Good day.”
“You can't do this to me!”
“I suggest you contact your important people and let them know you will not be able to make your appointment.”
“This is a travesty!”
Sondre followed her team back into the airlock and cycled back into the decontamination chamber. Her team spread out, moving feet far apart and lifting arms up and outward to expose the underside of their suit armpits.
The red light changed to green and they lowered their arms. Sondre stepped out of the decontamination airlock and removed her helmet, hooking it on her suit belt, as her team followed.
“What a heap of shite.”
“The craft or the owner....”
Sondre continued to ignore the banter, joining in inevitably led to a ship louse burrow of depravity best left alone. Instead, she listened to the Instructions through her earpiece.
“Bay five. Another outer Rim hauler. Let's go.”
“Yay!” Was the response, devoid of all humour, and enthusiasm, from one of her team.
*****
Varna waited patiently for the inspection team to cycle through. She had booked a mostly female team, but who you booked and who arrived were inevitably two separate things. Her lock door opened and hazard material and environment attired figures made their way into her hold and immediately set to opening the crates they had brought in.
The contents of the crates were high end scanners, which they activated. Some of the equipment took off into the air, the others were mounted to tripods, lights blinking ominously.
A female sounding voice emanated from one of the suits, which was marked as being that of a supervisor.
“If you would like to show me to your engineering bays and your living quarters, please.”
“Engineering is a sealed containment unit. I have no access as it requires hull plate removal at a shipyard to gain exterior access. But I can show you the living areas.”
“Maintenance must be expensive, if you need shipyard facilities? “
Varna shrugged. “I'll show you the way.”
*****
“And the award for the cleanest Outer-Rim ship ever, goes to....”
Sondre had to agree, as they started repacking their gear into their crates.
The DNA sniffers had picked up residual, weak, traces of many individuals in the hold. Which was to be expected in such a highly trafficked environment. The living quarters only recorded one main presence, unusual given the size of the craft and the many berths available, but the sensor readings corroborated the stated one crew manifest. Microbe levels were low. On par with what she expected to register if she had been examining the theatre suites of a trauma centre.
The girl obviously suffered from some form of OCD and with large periods of inactivity during transit, well…
The internal integrity scans had returned readings of inter bulkhead solidity she had never witnessed before. Even though Sondre was unable to inspect the internal environments of the ship’s drives, nothing about the rest of the ship led her to believe that there might be issues. No fluctuations in the power feeds, no irregular atmospherics.
There was some wear and tear here and there, but all well within the tolerances expected of a ship less than ten standard years of age. At least, that was the age given on her official paperwork and nothing she had seen gave her any quibble as to the officially recorded age.
This was the easiest craft Sondre had ever signed off. She checked her chronograph. They had time to collect another set of environmentally clean equipment and inspect another craft.
“Right, lets rack the gear for cleaning and collect a fresh load out and head to bay twelve”
“Is it even worth picking up a fresh set? What we have is probably cleaner than what we will replace it with...”
Sondre had been thinking those same thoughts, but rules were rules and they weren't paying for the decontamination.
*****
It was, somehow, strangely anticlimactic. Varna didn't know what to expect, but the simple two line message of 'Your craft has passed inspection, transit has been approved.' Didn't appear suitably worded for what it actually meant. Free access throughout the Inner Worlds. At least until the next scheduled inspection. There wasn't even a nice framed certificate, like she had received for passing her Captain's/Pilots accreditation.
No more escorts and she had priority transit over un-registered craft, who did require an escort. That alone would save her days of transit time, as she was no longer held to the whims of escort availability. Customers loved fixed transit times and captains that kept to them. All she had to do now, was avoid breaking any Inner World transit regulations (and there were so many of them!) and Sector Police would just ignore her.
*****
The stevedores were busy in her hold, removing all of her cargo. She had been unable to find a follow on shipment. There had been a few transit shipments available, but the freight companies in question were as yet too wary of her freshly minted captains licence. She could understand their reasons, but it didn't make the rejection any more palatable.
Even though the feedback left so far on her Captain’s profile was good, there simply wasn't enough of it left by companies prospective employers knew and respected. It was simply a time issue. Respect and reputation was not something anyone accrued overnight. She just needed to temper her expectations appropriately.
Which was easier thought than done. She would just have to spend a little more time in the Outer Rim for a while, that was all. Be a bit more picky about her cargo, keep her head down. Varna thought back to the ornate card in a drawer somewhere in her cabin. She hadn't thrown it out yet, because it looked pretty. Not that she actually needed the card as the contact details were already in her slate.
Varna tapped a fingernail on her table, undecided. She forced herself into a decision and brought up the contact details. He had said it was his personal coms number, but she had no idea as to where or even the time of day he and his craft were currently residing in. She would leave a message of availability, then it would be out of her hands.
The connection request was sent and Varna was already composing a short written message for his messaging facility. The call annoyingly connected and Varna found herself staring at the woman with the eye patch. Which was even worse, as the woman terrified her.
Varna's finger moved to the 'disconnect' icon. She could send a message apologising, saying the call was disconnected by a solar storm. They would never know the actual truth.
“You're the opera lass. Varna wasn't it?” One Eye was wearing a simple blue eyepatch this time, but it didn't make her countenance any less terrifying. “We were just talking about you the other solar day.”
“I was just enquiring to see if...” Varna's brain shut down and for the life of her, she couldn't recall his name. Or the woman’s, but Varna wasn't to worried about the woman, as she hadn't given Varna a card with her name on it. “You have need of cargo haulage?”
“It just so happens that we do, which is why we were discussing you. How soon can you get to the Freyr system?”
“Err....” Varna quickly checked. “Three days transit to system, plus whatever in system transit time is required.” The woman was obviously thinking. “What's the cargo?”
“I am not at liberty to say and I will need you to sign a holds worth of non- disclosure forms first. That will give you something to do over your three days transit.”
“I’m sorry, I cannot agree if I don't know what I am transporting.”
“I understand. Cargo is not objectionable and well within your capabilities. I'm sending over a simple non-disclosure form that I will need you to sign before any further details or contract negotiations can be discussed. Discretion is a large part of our business and that ethic needs to be shared by our contractors. That's non-negotiable.”
“I understand.” And she did, since she was trying to build her own reputation. Her slate chimed with a newly arrived message, the heading of which was titled 'Non-disclosure'.
Varna opened it, scanned the contents. There was surprisingly little content. Just simple legalese to say that the initial contract negotiations would be subject to the clients own confidentially agreements - client would not be disclosed. The agent of the aforementioned client – Anndra Security Services - and the Agent's sub-contractor - herself. Substantial redress would be sought should she break or fail to adhere to those contract stipulations, blah blah, blah.
There was nothing to indicate that she was, or would be, beholden to anything other than keeping her mouth shut. If she agreed to these terms and further negotiations, then she was to sign at the bottom and return to sender. Varna read the simple form again to ensue that she hadn't missed anything the first time and then signed and returned the document.
One Eye looked to her left, reading something off screen.
“Okay. The contract is for you to travel to a planet in the Freyr system and collect a detachment of security advisors, whom you will transport to a destination you will be informed of, when the detachment is on board. Before you ask. The destination is not currently a high risk environment, and doubtless should remain that way during your cargo transfer. After your cargo is offloaded, that status will doubtless change, and should be taken into consideration if you have any plans of stopping over for any reason. Once your cargo has disembarked, you will be free to locate further contracts and your contract with ASS will be fulfilled, though your Non-disclosure will remain active as to the particulars of your contract and any further contracts we may offer you, if your services are found to be acceptable. Be advised that I will be unable to answer, in detail, any questions you may have until you arrive at the first port of call and you have read, understood, signed and returned the full N.D.
“You will not be permitted to seek out, or carry, any further cargo that we haven't authorised during the operation of the contract. Do you have any disagreement with what I have said so far?”
“No...”
“Then you agree to abide by the terms?”
“Err. Yes.”
“I'll have the lawyers send you the full ND for the client and Anndra Security Services own, separate ND, along with a contractors (sub), agreement.”
“Okay.”
“l will let the security advisors know to expect you in three days?”
“Okay. Do I need to make hold modifications on arrival?”
“No hold modifications are required. What you have currently is acceptable, time is the controlling factor. We will contact you with further details upon your arrival.”
“Okay.” The connection was terminated. Varna looked down at the blank screen. “Okay...”
Her slate chimed. Several new messages, the size of which hinted at hefty amounts of text contained within. The one marked 'Payment' was the smallest and she opened that first, which set out her remuneration rates.
Her transit payment was acceptable and she would be paid standing time at the standard rate comparable to her cubic cargo capacity. Further undisclosed payment would be due upon earlier than agreed transit time and safe delivery of cargo. Any damage received in the fulfilling of the contract, with the exception of any accrued through negligence upon her part, would be reimbursed at cost.
She had no qualms so far, but then she knew absolutely nothing about the Freyr system. Which was what she now typed into the Freighter Captain’s data repository.
Freyr system was a small part of the vast outer rim she had yet to visit. Its designation had only recently - in the last few years - been downgraded from 'Dangerous' to 'Caution'. Which was still one threat level higher than the Outer Rim average. Varna queried the Freighter Captain’s almanac further to see what the history and reason for the heightened alert state was.
Centuries ago, when the solar system had first been discovered, scientists had been perplexed. Data from the initial probes had revealed solar winds from surrounding galaxies were being drawn to the system. This behaviour was normally witnessed in the area around a black hole. Caused by the swallowing action of the hole. Only, there was no hole.
Yet something was still pulling at the universe. The current theory, was that there had been a black hole, and that it had, somehow, collapsed in on itself. Researchers had worked out the epicentre the winds were travelling to and had begun a search for what they believed to be the densest material in existence. Space debris crushed together by gravitational forces calculated in truly astronomical terms.
Some physicists had calculated that a single grain of this material would weigh upwards of a thousand tons. If it actually existed, it had yet to be found. Not all scientists shared this theory as to the origin of the mysterious solar 'pull', but what they couldn't disagree with, was the existence of several, dense ore rich planets that had been pulled into the orbit of whatever had existed before. Whether these planets had been so ore rich before their forced relocation was a topic that the almanac said was still hotly debated within the geological communities. Many of whom believed the planets to have been 'normal' originally and that the mysterious pull had captured several meteor fields and pulled them and general space detritus into collision with the planets and as a result, impact upon impact of meteor collisions had created thick layers of ores.
A veritable gold mine of desperately needed construction materials for a recently fledged space going race. There were some issues, and Varna groaned at reading them.
Due to their ore dense nature, they had gravity. Lots of gravity. Which made them unpleasant to work upon. And their atmospheres were not breathable without assistance. But humans did what humans always did in this situation. Humanity created a workforce out of convicts and sent them on their merry way.
Over the decades, since those in charge had not been too bothered about sending both male and female convicts, successive generations had adapted to the conditions. Not that they had much choice. In return for the ore they mined, they were paid in oxygen and food. As the decades progressed, they dabbled in terraforming and slowly, very slowly, become food independent.
There was a brief 'golden period' but the task of launching heavily laden craft from a high gravity planet was both fraught and expensive. By this point, humanity had spread its wings amongst the stars and ore rich asteroid belts had been found and specialist ore mining ships built.
Ore mining in zero gravity was considerably easier and more fuel efficient now gravity wells did not need to be broken free from. As ore mining ships proliferated, the demand for the materials from the Freyr system dropped and the planets found themselves competing ever more ferociously for a dwindling market share.
With inevitable, human, results. Several decades of war between them followed, before they finally came to the realisation that they were never going to get those ore contacts back.
Which left them with very little of interest to the wider sprawl of humanity. Yet they still needed to purchase goods they were unable to grow/make themselves.
Human nature being what it was. The original issues of Earth, were not left behind on Earth.
As Earth countries and regimes grew to encompass planets, old enmities of race, colour and religion followed and what had once been a single planet’s continent wide aggression, became planetary wide and the high gravity denizens of the Freyr system found a use for their large swathes of above average strength unemployed in the form of mercenaries.
Which also fitted in well with their now genetic aggressiveness born from violent stock. With a new found - and lucrative - revenue stream, they were slowly fighting amongst themselves less.
More so because there was no profit in it.
The thought of landing on a high gravity planet had been the cause of her groan. Varna was already wondering how she could make the loading process as fast as possible. Still, not a lot she could do about it now. Varna slumped into the pilots chair, plotted the jump and set it in motion. Now it was just a case of killing the time for three days.