Chapter 5

As we neared our approach to Alpha Centauri, I drilled Alara and my crew on the procedures for dropping out of Warp and establishing an order of priorities for conducting Sensor Sweeps of the surrounding volume of space. This had to be done immediately upon going sub-light again. We practiced both high-speed approaches after becoming sub-light and we became familiar with using attitude thrusters to turn Leviathan around before maximizing our Fusion Drive thrust, in a thrust reversal mode, to slow us down.

We called this option the low-speed approach; and included it as a variant to check our ‘baffles’ like the submariners of old used to do. Whatever we did, it had to be done quickly, to ensure we didn’t fall prey to any enemy lurking near our destination. Once satisfied that we were alone, a more comprehensive sweep could be undertaken, and any required course correction could be executed.

Maybe a review of some of the known facts about Alpha Centauri is in order at this time. It is part of the constellation Centaurus and is currently the closest star to our Sun; but it is part of a cluster of stars that orbit around one another. Among those stars are several exo-planets that orbit individual stars in the cluster. Alpha has at least three, with one in the habitable zone. Another is a so-called Super-Earth, being much larger and slightly farther away from Alpha. But in reality, it is a gas dwarf incapable of supporting life. Proxima being a red dwarf, low mass, flare star, with its varying magnitude makes the viability of colonization within the system somewhat problematic. Other stars, namely Proxima Centauri, lie relatively nearby and are probably a binary star, coupled with Alpha. It has established colonies, but their current status is in question, as reports conflict as to their individual viability. Some even consider those reports to be wildly exaggerated. Although the Galactic Navy patrols that region of our adjacent Carina-Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, the preponderance of its patrols are focused upon our own Orion-Cygnus Arm of this immense spiral galaxy.

Remarkably, it seems, Leviathan’s archives lack any recent details about colonization anywhere. Being mothballed for over a century may account for that, but I rather suspect that the Galactic Navy was very compartmentalized. It appears that everything about its space-borne operations was classified and only available to those with a ‘need-to-know’. Nothing about the Leviathan resting in some spaceship boneyard lent itself to establishing such a ‘need-to-know’.

So much for my idle speculations. Somethings I felt sure about were the laws of physics; gravity, conservation of momentum, and inertia. They still applied, at least to some extent. Having artificial gravity in outer space may seem counter-intuitive, but it actually felt like it worked as it did on Earth. Conservation of momentum seemed to have a corollary, at least when it came to inertial dampening. I say that due to our having experienced inertial dampening within the spacecraft upon launch from Earth and during our maneuvers in the Jovian upper atmosphere. Outside the ship, it appeared to act as one would expect. I am not sure how ‘they’ did it, but not having to pull multiple G’s every time we changed course or accelerated; sure, made life easier. I assumed braking would follow similarly. Maybe inertial dampening had something to do with the artificial gravity maintained within the ship.

Energizing the Warp Drive was another situation all by itself. Inside the warp field there didn’t seem to be inertia. But the vertigo-like feeling I experienced when making the jump was ‘gut-wrenching’, to say the least. I wasn’t looking forward to dropping out of Warp either, if those same sensations were produced.

I guess there were some sleep training refresher courses I still needed to take. None the less, having gravity kept us from floating around within the spacecraft like those early Earth astronauts once experienced. In one of my wilder crew drill ideas, I planned to have Alara disengage artificial gravity during an engagement to see if my crew and I could still function. She warned me that we couldn’t engage anything with the Warp Drive activated, for the same reasons that no one else could engage us then either. Thus, I would have to schedule any such drills for after we ‘dropped’ in the vicinity of Proxima Centauri.

Arara did have her crew wear magnetic clip-on grips that could be applied over footwear, sort of like the ice cleats people in arctic climates might wear to avoid slipping on sheet ice. Walking with magnetic feet is a real pain in the ‘ass’, but it sure beats floating away from your seat, or crew station, whenever you let go.

Of course, I had to ask Alara what happened to our hydroponics and liquid water stores when gravity was cut off. She explained the answer varied with how it was contained. With fluids in any open container; the water became free to float around the ship, usually in big spherical globes until it impacted on some other surface, where it would spread out and stick due to surface tension dynamics. Not Cool.

In hydroponics, it would float around too, but stay within the enclosure, as long as the atmospheric vents were closed. They would close automatically upon loss of gravity, she related. But such would cripple the recycling of atmosphere and nutrient exchange necessary for our long-term life support. Of greater personal concern were all the flush toilets aboard. S-traps would no longer work. Flush reservoirs would leak, and toilet bowls; well, you get the idea. Eww!

There were a few microgravity toilets aboard, left over from designs dated to early space exploration. That would work for me, since I was trained to use one of them. Luckily, I guess, the android crew lacks the necessity for biological waste removal. I instructed Alara to have the crew locate, plug, and drain all the unused toilets in crew compartments and common areas aboard ship for the near term. Any left functional must be in sealed compartments to minimize clean-up after gravity was re-established. Alara smiled at my foibles and replied with her usual “Affirmative, Sir.”

“What happened with the toilets and showers when we were erected prior to launch?” I had belatedly inquired.

“Simple really, Sir.” She replied. “All toilets were drained, and the waste pipes were plugged prior to T-90 minutes. A vacuum was applied to pipes that ensured any remaining moisture evaporated harmlessly. Similarly, the hydroponic plant beds were drained, and the bacterial reservoirs were sealed for an hour and a half prior to launch. Once artificial gravity and inertial dampening were activated, the vents were opened and the plugs in the pipes were removed.”

In the following days I often encountered signs on toilets in common areas. ‘All waste and shower drains are plugged and non-functioning in this area. Ask the AI for the location of the nearest functioning WC. (Water Closet?)’ ‘Of course, you dummy.’ I thought smiling to myself. “You are the only human aboard.’ You have to ask if you need to know!

I smiled but felt better knowing I had anticipated and possibly corrected a potential problem if the bottom ever dropped-out of life aboard Levithan. Oh! Alara insisted that I immediately become proficient in the use of the single micro-gravity toilet available nearest the Bridge. That was really fun! Not!

Alara, bless her thoughtfulness, investigated what other impacts to fluid behavior could impact spaceship functioning during weightlessness. Back in the old NASA days, fluid propellants were necessary for space flight. Pumps forced liquid oxygen and hydrogen, kerosene, red-fuming nitric acid, and many other hypergolic liquids in those space vehicles.

To avoid pump cavitation, small thrusters fueled by decomposing hydrogen peroxide, or some other non-flammable chemical engines accelerated the spacecraft forward, causing the liquid fuels to slosh back against the fuel intakes leading to pumps. Once the rocket motors were functioning, their own thrust forced fluids to behave properly. And who could ever forget the stirring of the liquid oxygen tanks on the Apollo 13 Command and Service Module. An electrical spark from a faulty component resulted in an explosion that could easily have led to the loss of all the astronauts’ lives. Out here, such an explosion would, without a doubt, end mine. There would be nowhere to land within a few days, like those three had survived, by doing, back then.

Alara assured me that she had revised all software aboard Thor to determine if functioning gravity was present before engaging any pumps producing fluid transfers. If gravity was absent, the pump intake port location was to be determined and a micro-thrust was applied to Thor, so as to force liquids into those ports before engaging the pumps. Doing an analysis of all such pumping requirements showed that cavitation wouldn’t cause much of any real problem unless combustible elements or high-volume flows were present. Nice to be safe anyway.

I felt the sense of eagerness increase as we approached Alpha Centauri. Maybe it was cabin fever. Maybe it was from a sense of boredom. Maybe it was a concern about our reception from other Galactic Naval Ships. Humanity had come a long way since those early days of space exploration. Now, the vast majority of space traffic is involved in commerce. Trade and travel were the major components of that commerce. But it was the presence of alien species and the active threat of piracy that drove the Galactic Naval presence out here. I hoped my absconding with an obsolete hulk that had once belonged to the Galactic Navy wouldn’t trigger any warrants for my arrest. After all, I hadn’t stolen anything of much value. Theft of things like weapons, ammunition, explosives, or cutting-edge technology probably would constitute significant value. I had harmed no one, or thing, during our launch. The Thor was sitting as scrap, completely ‘demilitarized’ and was ‘worthless’ as evidenced by it being abandoned in a boneyard that wasn’t even guarded. Since it wasn’t being maintained, it meant that the Galactic Navy and any civilian authorities hadn’t placed any real salvage value on the ship.

Just to soothe relations with the folks back on Earth, I would volunteer to pay any reasonable purchase price for the salvage rights to the former GNS Thor. Of course, without money, I would require such ‘pay’ would be in services rendered or perhaps in the transporting of critical material or personnel across the galaxy. Since I had no plans to visit Earth in the near future, my proposal would probably only serve as an opening for further negotiations.

Thinking further back to the single class I had in civics, before graduating from ‘high school’, I reflected on the definition of what being a ‘citizen’ and belonging to a country meant. Like the early pioneers in our own country, they had sailed from what was then England. It took a declaration, and a war; to establish their independence and sovereignty. They were considered colonists but became Americans; living in a new land they had been willing to sacrifice and defend, earning their sovereignty. Without such, no nation would last very long.

Likewise, I would include a declaration relinquishing my citizenship in my former homeland. I would no longer be bound by any Earth laws or be bound to any country I had once lived within, while on Earth. ‘Boy I am on a tear now!’ I thought.

My declaration would establish Thor as being an independent ‘colony’, whose citizens were in the process of earning such status. Obviously, we hoped to preclude any hostilities and were willing to conduct negotiations and honor any jointly negotiated agreement, as the basis of ‘Thor’ diplomacy. As the undisputed leader of Thor and having sworn no allegiance to any power on Earth, my ship and any humans living aboard her, were in effect, a colony. My ship would expect to be treated with sovereignty, much like that afforded foreign embassies on Earth. How’s that for an opening gambit?

Not only would the first message torpedo sent back to Earth carry such documents, but it would codify the rule of law within my colony. I didn’t need a full-blown Constitution; as such, but whatever I wrote up would form some basis for the resolution of disputes and the legal basis for governing my ‘colony’. Laws must be specified. Perhaps something more like the UCMJ or whatever the Galactic Navy used. I’d have to search the ship’s archives for such. No, I need to get Alara involved in this before I get ‘overcome by minutia’.

It may not suffice for use at any ‘first contact’ with Galactic Naval vessels. We would need to identify ourselves first, early-on, and evaluate hostile intent, before taking the appropriate actions. Once negotiations are anticipated, it needs to be among the first documents transmitted when any contact involving the Galactic Navy occurs in deep space. Or any other alien civilizations for that matter. ‘I need to get busy!’ I thought with a certain measure of enthusiasm.

Alara was able to locate an archived copy of the Galactic Naval Uniform Code, which seemed to follow the older United States Uniform Code of Military Justice, that it often referenced as the basis for establishing its authority and enforcing laws. I didn’t need both a civilian and military code in my colony at this time; thousands of pages of legalese turned into a few dozen of the most important and frequently needed topics. After all, with no other humans aboard, I had little need for statutes involving social issues, taxes, marriage, adultery, inheritance, property rights, copyrights, and any such intellectual property. For the time being contract law and negotiations framed the brunt of what was being called the Thor Uniform Code and the Thor Declaration. My ‘Constitution’ created the colony of Thor and formed the basis for my government.