Chronicles of Sol: The Fall

First Officer’s Log, 27 August, 001 SDE:

The Enterprise is currently at high warp. We are traveling in a region that is considered rather dangerous and is often avoided. Although that doesn’t mean no one is out here. Since we left that outpost we helped almost two weeks ago, we have picked up ninety-six distress calls. All from ships attempting to brave the region for one reason or another. More than half of them were armed merchant vessels attempting to sell to the warring factions. Only to have been hit and robbed by raiders. Although not every distress call was legitimate, we did attempt to respond to all of them.

Not everyone on the ship agrees with the policy, but I understand the logic behind it. Perhaps it would be better to ignore the calls, but morally this was the correct call. Not to mention it creates a reputation, something we as a race do not really have out here. Something that will change soon enough. People talk, and I have no doubt that we have been seen enough times that news about us is starting to circulate. It would certainly save us some of the trouble we have been dealing with. Reputation is a valuable tool, one we sorely need. Countryman and I both agree on that point. Besides given our numbers we could use all the tools we can get.

In other news, I’ve been keeping an eye on Williams lately. I’m not sure what she is up to, but she is doing something. Countryman doesn’t seem worried, but I can’t help but worry. I fear she may be trying to instigate a mutiny, and that is something we can ill-afford. As a species, we must stand strong, united or I fear we may cross the brink and perish. I can only pray that we will find that sanctuary we need. Something I fear would never happen if Williams was allowed to have her way.

Greyman logged his log, and sat back in his office chair. As first officer he was afforded an office although not as nice as the one the captain had, It wasn’t even on the same deck as the bridge, but rather it was attached to his quarters. Still that wasn’t too much of a problem. Honestly he kind of liked it. Certainly helped him do his job.

Speaking of his job it had certainly gotten busy lately. Especially give that this region of space was rather hostile. Thankfully most of the people here were not too dangerous. The Valorians had strong shields, and fast ships, but their ships were often undergunned. As for the raiders, they came in two types. The lowly pirate clans whose ships were often crewed by those fallen on hard times, and were desperate. Those ships were outfitted with whatever they could get their hands on, and due to a lack of credits those ships were often poorly maintained. The other type of raiders were those that had succeeded. Vessels from those people were better organized, better equipped, and better maintained.

Honestly the second type of raider was often more of a threat to the Enterprise then the occasional Valorian ship. Although the raiders were not the biggest danger in the region. That honor went to some of the locals. One of the more powerful local races were rather... xenophobic almost religiously so, and highly militaristic. They would attack anyone they met on sight, seeking blood. Diplomacy seemed to not be an option, and their ships were powerful. Although thankfully they had not yet had a direct confrontation. Witnessed them in action, but nothing more. It was enough to make Greyman wary of them. Especially since the ship destroyed had been a Valorian cruiser. Sure it was undergunned like all Valorian ships seemed to be, and its armor non-existant, but the ship had very strong shields, and good engines.

If it had been just one ship against that Valorian cruiser, perhaps they could have escaped. It was not. They had faced off against seven. Seven well armed, and very deadly ships. Ships armed with a mix of high yield disrupter cannons, and short range plasma throwers. Overall design was very brutal with a high focus on mobility and firepower. That one cruiser stood little chance against the alien battlecruisers.

He put those thoughts aside, and slipped out of his quarters. Greyman had a destination in mind, on the lower levels. He wasn’t going to find Williams down there, but he was going to find one of the people she was talking to. A younger man that raised a few flags in his mind. He planned to investigate. Of course he couldn’t just head down in his uniform, so he had dressed casual. Not an easy task, seeing as when he had boarded this ship in what seemed like a lifetime ago, he had only brought a few uniforms. Acquiring some casual clothing was not effortless as there was a bit of a cloth shortage on ship. Agricultural space was at a premium, recycling could do only so much, and as for synthetic materials it was the same story. It didn’t help that demand vastly exceeded production. They projected that things would change in a few years, but in the meantime new clothing was hard to aquire. It had cost him a fair number of his monthly credits, but he had a few casual outfits now.

Putting that aside, he made his way to the lift. Before he got there he encountered the captain, who noticed him, “Ah, Greyman! Have some free time I see. If you have the time, there is something I would like to dicuss with you.”

“Something to discuss?” he frowned. Not sure what this would be about.

“Yes, something important, but not too urgent. Can’t talk about it here though.”

Greyman glanced around. The corridor was rarely the place for a discussion, and there were a few poeple walking by. They were already drawing attention. “Yes this doesn’t seem like the place for an important discussion, but may inquire about what?”

“The future. I’ll see you in my private office later. Come by around 2100 hours?”

“I see. I should be free then. See you then.”

Greyman settled into his seat. It seemed he was just in time as the conversation at the other table was getting interesting. They were in a smaller mess hall that offered a cozier environment. Originally meant mainly for higher ranking personnel, but was now being used as a restaurant for civilian use. It was a decision meant to make them happier, and it certainly helped. They had also turned a few observation rooms and a couple of unneeded meeting rooms into theaters. Honestly, the Enterprise was starting to feel like a city, a giant flying city armed to the teeth with deadly weapons and covered in heavy armor, but a city nonetheless. They certainly had most of the amenities, and the longer they were here the more it would begin to feel like a city.

He didn’t dwell on that, but instead listened to the others talk, while waiting for his food. The young man he had come here to spy on spoke, “That woman is an idiot.”

Another person chuckled, “Yeah, well at least she is a useful one.”

He replied, “Yes more so than that machine. I mean seriously what the hell are we doing just slinking around? The Enterprise is more than a match for any ship for at least twenty lightyears.”

“...What are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying we should strike. We should seek out a world and take it for ourselves. Its the only way we would ever have a new home of our own.”

“And how pray tell are we going to hold it?”

That was something Greyman wondered about as well. His reply left him with serious questions. He wasn’t just going to ask the young man about them. If anyone on the ship could definitively answer those questions it was most likely going to be captain Countryman. The captain had that unusually high level of security clearance, and had been around for a long time. Who knows what he had heard and seen in his nearly two centuries of life.

What Greyman heard next brought him out of his wondering for a moment, and nearly made him laugh. It seemed the young man had dreams of empire. A laughable notion if he had ever heard one. Any dreams humanity may have had about building an empire died with Earth. It would be centuries before their numbers recovered to what they had been before the war. Decades before they could even concieve of engaging in what he was suggesting. No mater how powerful their ships were, they could never crew enough to matter. Numbers were often just as important as quality. One ship alone could do many things, but to effectively defend a planet you would need more.

Still while the man was obviously a fool he had friends. Greyman wasn’t going to simply dismiss the idiot out of hand. He was going to have to do something, but first he wanted to speak with the captain. Thankfully he had a good idea about an opportunity for that. Especially since the captain wanted to speak with him about something.

She stretched a bit. The young officer had been staring at the monitor for hours, and she was getting bored. As time-consuming as this was someone had to do it. Every battle fought had to be analyzed. Any anomalies tagged and categorized. It was critical to their campaign. Their people would never be safe if they don’t deal with the despicable creatures that surround their worlds. Something these creatures had already proven when they tried to burn Imatria nearly two hundred years ago.

Her line of thought was broken suddenly when the computer flagged a new anomaly. A rather unusual one. The young officer leaned forward and went to work unraveling it. She noted the flagged region of space, it looked mostly normal. Mostly something was off. It took her a moment to realize that a shadow seemed to hide in the blackness blocking the light of their home star which should have been visible in that region.

She ordered the computer to isolate that section and enhance. The resulting image a moment later was a strangely blurry region of blackness. That was odd. Why was space itself blurry? Where was the normal starlight as well?”

She tapped keys on the console attempting to adjust the filters and enhancements. Each move caused the image to resolve itself a little more. Slowly she felt a weight grow in her chest, and slowly sink into her belly.

It was slow but eventually, a ship resolved itself in the image. Someone else had been at the skirmish in sector 73-11. Worse their ship had apparently been cloaked in some fashion. Worryingly if what she saw here was correct the vessel in question was a capital ship a big one at that. In the 5000 Metaras class. She was huge, and utterly invisible to sensors.

For a moment or two she simply stared at the thing for a moment or two. The design was alien completely alien. It likely belonged to a race not known to them. Yet cloaking technology wasn’t entirely unknown to them. If these aliens could cloak ships that big they must have an energy source of unparalleled ability. That thought left her deeply worried for her people especially since she knew how most of them would react. This was going to have to be handled discreetly.

She pulled out a memory stick and copied everything she found onto it. Next she proceeded to erase the entire scan log from the system memory. She even checked the backups just in case the system had backed itself up since she started working. Thankfully it had not. Pocketing the memory stick, she logged off and went to find her mentor. The only person she felt could be trusted with the contents of the memory stick. He would get it to the right people. Make sure this was handled the right way.