First Glimpse
Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2017 11:03 pm
Of no specific setting and I think the influences must be quite obvious, but here is an extended edition of something I wrote for this SDN Challenge. With an extra 60 words I cut there.
First Glimpse
Commander Liam Harvey sat utterly straight in the passenger chair, even while the whine of the engine field propelling the shuttle felt like a nail being pushed into each temple. To react would hardly be in keeping with an officer’s dignity, especially not an officer being transported to his first command.
Gaining his command hardly at the same pomp and circumstance surrounding it as it would have had in the days of his ancestors, a simple e-mail notification from the Admiralty A.I. that he had been selected for command was slightly underwhelming, even if given that as the AI weighed thousands of metrics when making its decisions the appointment could be seen as much meritorious than in the old sea navies. Liam and friends had still celebrated his advancement in time-honoured fashion: ‘Wetting the swab’ with half a dozen bottles of alcohol from nearly as many worlds, so the newly-minted Commander could not resent his headache in the slightest.
The coxswain touched a button on his console and the display in front on the Commander’s display flickered into life, displaying a magnified view of the space ahead of their path, unasked but very welcome. Harvey wondered if there was grey hair concealed behind the man’s mirrored faceplate and how many fresh faced commanding officers the enlisted man had ferried to their command over the years.
The pitch of the engines wobbled a second before settling back down into its steady penetrating wail and a glance at the corner of the display showed they’d hit the halfway point and the pod was decelerating rather than accelerating towards their destination. Spithead sphere was the premier fitting-out location for the navy, half the vessels in the system were based there. In a volume centring on Spithead Station itself a jealous depot yard stuffed full of naval supplies, surrounded by a cloud of vessels clamouring for their needs, the more extensive the refits required the closer they were to the station, those more ready for space were further out with only the protective cloud of sensor buoys and gun-sats further out.
A vessel loomed up in the display. It was an old vessel and small. The clean white of its hull was mottled where newer hull panels were installed. One section was clearly rebuilt, interrupting the red strake a previous captain had painted it’s flank. All it’s weapons were inboard and covered with woefully small hatches. Harvey pitied the man assigned to it.
“Inbound shuttle, please identify,” the comm unit crackled with a transmission from the craft they were observing.
“Agile, incoming,” The pilot replied.
Harvey’s heart swelled with affection for the spacecraft. It was a classic design, and was clearly a vessel with a long and honourable battle-record. She was just short of the mass required to be a full Starship, but still with her three warp motors; she would have speed and endurance.
The sound of the engines died completely. There were a few short rumbling noises of the manoeuvring jets killing off the last trace of their momentum, bringing them to rest with the vessel and orientating them to the airlock. They hooked on with a loud clank.
Commander Liam Harvey, Captain of His Majesty’s Starsloop Agile grinned like a loon for the briefest second before the doors opened to the sound of the bosun’s whistle welcoming him to his command.
First Glimpse
Commander Liam Harvey sat utterly straight in the passenger chair, even while the whine of the engine field propelling the shuttle felt like a nail being pushed into each temple. To react would hardly be in keeping with an officer’s dignity, especially not an officer being transported to his first command.
Gaining his command hardly at the same pomp and circumstance surrounding it as it would have had in the days of his ancestors, a simple e-mail notification from the Admiralty A.I. that he had been selected for command was slightly underwhelming, even if given that as the AI weighed thousands of metrics when making its decisions the appointment could be seen as much meritorious than in the old sea navies. Liam and friends had still celebrated his advancement in time-honoured fashion: ‘Wetting the swab’ with half a dozen bottles of alcohol from nearly as many worlds, so the newly-minted Commander could not resent his headache in the slightest.
The coxswain touched a button on his console and the display in front on the Commander’s display flickered into life, displaying a magnified view of the space ahead of their path, unasked but very welcome. Harvey wondered if there was grey hair concealed behind the man’s mirrored faceplate and how many fresh faced commanding officers the enlisted man had ferried to their command over the years.
The pitch of the engines wobbled a second before settling back down into its steady penetrating wail and a glance at the corner of the display showed they’d hit the halfway point and the pod was decelerating rather than accelerating towards their destination. Spithead sphere was the premier fitting-out location for the navy, half the vessels in the system were based there. In a volume centring on Spithead Station itself a jealous depot yard stuffed full of naval supplies, surrounded by a cloud of vessels clamouring for their needs, the more extensive the refits required the closer they were to the station, those more ready for space were further out with only the protective cloud of sensor buoys and gun-sats further out.
A vessel loomed up in the display. It was an old vessel and small. The clean white of its hull was mottled where newer hull panels were installed. One section was clearly rebuilt, interrupting the red strake a previous captain had painted it’s flank. All it’s weapons were inboard and covered with woefully small hatches. Harvey pitied the man assigned to it.
“Inbound shuttle, please identify,” the comm unit crackled with a transmission from the craft they were observing.
“Agile, incoming,” The pilot replied.
Harvey’s heart swelled with affection for the spacecraft. It was a classic design, and was clearly a vessel with a long and honourable battle-record. She was just short of the mass required to be a full Starship, but still with her three warp motors; she would have speed and endurance.
The sound of the engines died completely. There were a few short rumbling noises of the manoeuvring jets killing off the last trace of their momentum, bringing them to rest with the vessel and orientating them to the airlock. They hooked on with a loud clank.
Commander Liam Harvey, Captain of His Majesty’s Starsloop Agile grinned like a loon for the briefest second before the doors opened to the sound of the bosun’s whistle welcoming him to his command.