Home-world episode 1. across the veil of silent shadows.

Timeline: 2466 S.E.S the fifteenth day of the fifth month of the twenty fifth solar year of Yal. 1440hrs

At first there was space. A vast and dark eternal soundless night; that has always been pitted with the distant light of a million upon a million stars, twinkle the echo of crystal kisses from a billion angels as they sing throughout eternity.
Then, slowly, out of the darkness, a strange sound was heard.
The sound was dim and distant. At first, a mere echo; but slowly and steadily the sound increased in volume; becoming intelligible and identifiable. First a trumpet, then a voice began to sing:
‘Somewhere...
Beyond the sea...
Somewhere...
Waiting for me...
My lover stands on golden sands...
Watching the ships, as they go sailing...’

Then the vast ship came into view. It was a huge elongated cylinder with an enormous curl of a tattered and occasionally ruptured solar sail about its’ plump raised midriff. In its prime the craft would have been pristine white, the sail Gold and on the front of the hull, the words “Excelsior” and “second class battle cruiser” would have been written in proud, bold, black letters, above a Magenta triangle that would have had a single black T within it. Telling all that this wonderful, powerful, ship was part of the vast and terrible Terran Empire.
But age and countless battles had beaten the ship into submission. Its hull was riddled with black battle-scars and re-enforced welding joints, giving the impression of a curled up rusted patchwork quilt. The proud symbol of the once great Terran Empire had been partially altered by a sign that read:
“For all your space-ware nee-“
and above that, the broken word:“Excel-r”, where, next to that
Someone had either out of folly -or sad jest- painted in huge red letter’s the words “ATE...err-not...”
In truth, the ship was dying.
Its’ hybrid nuronic computer and its tri-dimensional interface, core affectionately known as Chamberlain- had slowly been going senile for years. But eight months previously it had finally lost control of a coolant unit close to the Higgs particle drive, on level 33.1 and froze the previous captain, (a miserable bastard of a man called O’Hare.) solid, while both he and the then galley sergeant were fighting it out over rations.
For a month, the crew, both out of bitterness, and a peculiar form of perverse triumph; had kept the frozen corpse as a trophy in a clear glass transportable stasis case, next to the bar in the mess hall. His round face, forever bulging, his frosted white tongue forever curled out, his left arm bent at the elbow allowing his left hand to prop up his portly belly, while his right arm would be forever thrust forward, and his right hand forever gesticulating his usual two fingered salute....the answer he usually gave to everyone over anything.
That was until after the mess sergeant, found and a large puddle of urine, around the corpse feet and assumed that this was the reason for the increasing foul stench in the mess room. So later that shift, a small group of the officers, shoved him in an air lock and closed the door. Two months after the incident, the colony’s Central Command made the final and difficult decision, to take Chamberlain off line and fly the ship to dry dock, to be dismantled with the “acceptable minimum of human crew.”
Peter Wallace –the new captain- had been on the Excelsior since his birth. He was an embittered man, as he had been passed over for promotion time and time again. This would be the last job of his extensive military career and it was not a job he and he would be looking forward to. He was in his bunk trying to get some sleep.
His second in command, Flight Lt. Jennings was a young man just out of training college. This was his first real tour of duty. And at the moment, he was steering the ship through the vargaris desert, an area of open space. Both men had been given the job of transporting the ship from the Beta asteroid Colony around Cygnus, to the alpha asteroid colony three hundred light years away. Both men hated each other. And because the barest minimum crew was called for, they were alone, in a one hundred and fifty deck ship.

*

From the ship’s control room, Jennings pretty awful drawling voice could be heard singing along with the song…
He was interrupted by Wallace coming over the dry tinny intercom. But not even that could hide the tight frustration Wallace Felt.
‘Jennings… shut that old Earth crap off! I’m trying to sleep here.’
The other voice continued to sing oblivious to the order.
‘Jennings, I’m warning you… if you don’t shut that shit off, I’m coming up there and will use your fat arse to seal the coolant leak in C-section!’
The voice stopped abruptly.
The tinny voice from the intercom did not reply.

twenty minutes passed before the voice that had been singing –very badly- spoke again.
'Captain…captain Wallace…’ there was an awkward pause. ‘...sir.’
'What is it Jennings.” Snapped Wallace; neither hiding either tight knot of bitter sarcasm, or the flash of annoyance in his voice.
‘Sir...’ Jennings said again, adding yet another awkward pause that made Wallace eyes turn black as ice.
‘...could you come to control… please…’
Why Should I, thought Wallace as he lay in his grey green sweat stained bunk; within the grimy walls of his tiny cabin. A cabin that was uncomfortably filled with huge curled up star charts, and copious boxes of flight manuals, as well as the odd letter or two from his two ex-wives, who demanded half of his star-jump pay in paternal grants. I’ve just completed a twelve hour shift; after six jumps six jumps…
‘Is it Important?’ He asked coolly his voice stretched and tight.
‘Sir…it’s… better if you simply come.’ Jennings said edgily.

*

Wallace hated Jennings.
He hated him because he smiled a lot, he hated him because he always played those crappy old tunes, and sang to them badly, but most of all, he hated Jennings because he was a believer... one of those who called themselves “Earther’s”. And he was truly sick of them.
The Earther’s were a religious cult that essentially believed in the divinity of man, and that one day, a sacred key would be found that would lead the remnant of mankind, away from the ash and the iron bunkers of the asteroid colonies of Cygnus, and back finally home to Earth.
Thirty years ago... Wallace mused silently. That’s when it began... prior to then, no-one had ever even heard of Tobias Wellwood... or the bloody Earther’s...
Peter Wallace was a moulded cynic, though he would never have admitted it to himself. However, his heart had seen far too much to even consider, what he told himself, the vain possibility that some sacred key, would bring hope to the remnants of the human race.
Over the years he had argued that the reality of humanity’s position rested in the present. It rested the ships like the Excelsior that protected the tri-colonies; and on the memory cubes that he had read and reread as he grew up, on board the Excelsior. Where he had spent his life, either fighting the Delfi, or fighting for food, water or air. it was on these cubes he had learned of the long and terrible war against the maggot like Delfi... how they had pushed the Terran Federation -and then mankind- almost to the brink of collapse...how earth was lost, never to be seen again. Leaving what was left of mankind, on borrowed time, in hollowed out asteroids; or hiding from the fleets of Delfic spider ships, behind huge clouds of dark matter. Oh, sure he had heard of Earth as a child, but then he grew up, and as he aged, Earth faded from his memory, it became a legend.... Worse… he had come to see it as a story that adults told their children about, but honest hearted, hard working people, simply didn’t think credible anymore.
But then... along came Tobias Wellwood, a man who was nothing... just another gutter snapper, from the Gamma colony, shipping scraps of dead metal, and broken bloody Nuronic components for cash. and then, on one shift, thirty years ago, he happened to be shovelling some of his shit about, and found an ancient satellite containing a huge collection of music and movies, on a data drive.
Wallace shook his head bitterly; as he thought of how now Wellwood was in the hearts and minds of nearly every man, woman and child on the three colonies; as over the thirty years that followed, the Earther’s had grown in number. Originally they had met in people’s houses, then as they grew in number in huge carved halls, watching holodisc’s of the narrow blue eyes and strong square jaw of Wellwood, with his ever present smile, eloquently present his case; or listening to the old music from his archive... and singing along to songs like “Can’t buy me love...” “Once, twice, three times a lady...” or “Easy like Sunday morning”...
In the meantime, Wellwood had become one of the wealthiest men within the tri-core system. As he and his cronies began quietly buying up shares in the “Re-Air Re-water” corporation and making sure that only Earther’s managed to get the best quality air and water. Now with the passing of the anti-faith law, you had to become an Earther simply to receive a ration to live...
Before Wellwood took on the “re-air Re-water” corporation, the Federation tolerated the Earther’s because it gave hope to the fractured people. Now, they had no choice, but to force hope onto people. ...Or take people away...
He thrust a fist into the grey green sheets of his bunk, as Caroline’s beautiful face, and long flowing blonde hair, came to mind. It took four punches and a sore knuckle to finally shut her image away.
Wallace, dark skinned and bearded -and looking older than his thirty seven years- absently out of habit, ran a hand through his tight curled, yet thinning hair. He looked, with his large pain wracked brown eyes to the holo-picture he had put up on the opposite wall, originally placed there to hide a particularly nasty stain.
The picture was of the excelsior when it was commissioned.
His eyes warmed as he recalled that the ship was once the pride of the Terran fleet. Now with Chamberlain’s higher functions’ closed off, he hoped both he and Jennings might be able to get the ship to dry dock and that nothing would go so drastically wrong as to have to wake him up once more.
Slowly, Wallace sighed, as he stood and made his way out of his cabin and along the stained walls of the corridor to the only working service tube on his level.

*

Jennings hated Wallace, but for very opposite reasons.
Jennings hated Wallace because he regarded Wallace as having no hope and Wallace was willing to live and share that hopelessness with others. He also hated Wallace because Wallace had, since his first shift on board the Excelsior, made his life unbearable.
He recalled the words of Wallace as he left the control room: “I don’t want to be disturbed, do you understand me? You are not to call me unless there is a situation critical…”
As the shift wore on, Jennings had become bored. Mostly his job involved looking at computer screens, adjusting the dial to the particle flow of the Higgs drive, as it prepared for the next star-jump; as well as scan for possible collisions, which were few and far between.
He had hoped that his music would not have bothered him, but privately he hoped that something would.
As he sat there, looking at the grey green screen, he recalled the interview, where he sat opposite Senior-commander Wallace. (back then Captain O’Hare refused to do interviews.) Wallace was he seemed to recall pretty drunk; even though it was six in the evening.
Back then, Jennings was clean shaven, and looking immaculate. His shaved head shone and in his navy uniform with gold epaulettes was immaculate. The contrast to Wallace, unshaven and unkempt appearance in his battered leather coat was startling.
It was only as the interview came to a close that he knew he would be in for a rough tour of duty.
'I see here, from your data cube...' began Wallace, in a vindictive drawl '...that you are an Earther?”
'Yes.' Jennings said awkwardly;
'I see...' There was an awkward pause before Wallace continued.'...Look, I’ll be frank with you... I don’t much like you. I don’t like the way you look and I definitely don’t like what you believe. However, by law, the captain has to take at least one of your kind on board. I ask one thing; don’t try to convert me… or the crew. If you do, I’ll blow you out into deep space without a helmet, do you understand?'
Jennings simply nodded and saluted as Wallace with a dismissive wave left the room. But the whole experience had left him feeling upset, frustrated and alienated.
Now with his first year almost completed, the captain had been killed, the crew and the uniform had gone, and he was alone with the largest cynic in the tri-colony for company... he shook his head, as an image of blowing Wallace out into deep space entered his mind. when something bounced on the forward scanner.
Jennings looked anxiously down at the holographic monitor. His face shone gold in the semi darkness of the room. If Chamberlain was on line, things would have been so very different, but... his mind wandered, as he absently played with a hidden object under his tunic. His brown stubble already had the look more of a beard about it; and on more than one occasion gave him some trouble sleeping with its’ ferocious itching.
‘I wonder what that is.’ He found himself saying to no-one in-particular, and checked himself... it’s true he thought, out here in the void, the loneliness could be so destructive. His mind wandered once more, as he saw the blip appear in the top half of the screen; as a matter of routine he automatically went through the failsafe procedure. When that proved negative, his mind raced.
it’s not an asteroid the chemical elements are far too ordered; there are far too many steel composites in the structure; it could be… it could be a Delfic scout; they have been seen this far out; but there’s no organic components in the scan and Delfic designs always have organic composites within its structure.
Finally, he went to the front viewer for a visual scan. What he saw made his heart lift and his mind race… He looked at the image for a long time before he contacted Captain Wallace.

*

The door to the grimy semi-circular control room curled open and Wallace entered with an air of irritation.
‘Wassup.’ he asked blankly. Not really caring at all.
‘The forward scanner has picked something up.’ Jennings said excitedly.
‘An asteroid?’
‘No…sir…not an asteroid.’
Wallace looked at Jennings in the green light of the monitor screen’s his naturally brown skin appear a deeper green. His wide set eye’s appeared hollow and the narrow room appeared tighter and Wallace’s air made Jennings all the more nervous.
‘Well what is it then?’
‘Hope’ replied Jennings almost silently.
‘What do you mean?’ Asked Wallace testily.
Jennings braced himself for the attack before he continued.
‘What you are looking at...’ He pointed to the screen nervously, before he continued, is the sacred key… look…’
From around his neck, Jennings produced something that Wallace thought was incredibly delicate. It was a golden dish attached to a cube; attached to the cube and jutting out at three points from it were long spindle like arms.
‘We get this when we become Earther’s… It is called voyager… according to the ancient texts, it contains the sacred key…’ He gulped air nervously awaiting Wallace’s bitter tirade.
‘...To Earth.’
Wallace looked at the view screen and then again at the necklace. My Sweet stars, he thought, hardly believing his own eyes, it’s the same design. Could it actually be true?
‘You can’t expect me to believe that we have found some ancient Earth artefact...can you..?’ He snapped, hiding the nerves he felt.
‘Sir...’ Began Jennings, ‘...all I know is this... ‘ He raised his necklace to show Wallace. ‘...this is called the voyager, and that satellite out there... sir...it’s the same!’ he said excitedly.
Wallace started shaking his head from, side to side. He felt anger build within him. It was an anger made up from all those years of wanting to shove Tobias Wellwood and his cronies, off towards a Delfic mining colony. For he could recall all those years waiting in line for more air credits, whilst those who were of the order managed to jump the line; he had seen too many children suffer, and Caroline... Caroline... The only woman he loved in the arms of an Earther because He wanted her and the anti faith law meant he had to surrender her to him... Now all that Tobias spouted could be true, and that made him ache with rage in his heart.
‘Can you deny your eyes?’ Asked Jennings incredulously.
‘Oh just FUCK OFF JENNINGS!’ shouted Wallace in pain filled savagery. ‘I don’t need this and I don’t need you. Its’ easy for you isn’t’ it...’ He took a step towards him and almost raised a fist; but he thought better of it and lowered it before he continued.
‘...we’ll take it back to the colonies... and then we can all go to earth and every-thing will be happy ever after! Life’s not like that Jennings...’ Wallace thumped his hands down savagely upon the console. ‘...It just isn’t.’ He answered sadly and painfully before he turned away and left the control room. His head lowered, his shoulders slumped. He turned.
‘Make sure you get the thing stowed safely.’ He muttered before He left the control room.
Jennings looked at the image on the monitor screen. Yes it is that simple it is. He thought happily. As he began to down load all the data from Voyager’s aged memory banks. And engage the tractor beam.

*

Slowly the Terran craft’s front airlock opened and the ancient craft was brought on board. Then, as the pressure was increased, and the soundless silence of space was lost; the ancient satellite suddenly came to life.
A red light began to blink, slowly. It blinked three times then as soon as the ship touched down upon the deck; there was a flash of bright white light and an enormous explosion that thundered and ripped, then rippled its way through the lower decks of the ship, before coming into contact with the soundless night of space.
Both men were looking at each other with equally hostile eyes in the deserted canteen as the explosion happened.
Panic filled their eyes as they made their way to the command centre four decks up. They entered the near darkness of the main control room together. Wallace made his way to the particle drive.
If that bloody thing blows now... He thought tightly. Bighting down on his upper lip, as anxiety coursed nails through his veins. The pain in his chest grew to a tighter knot, as he scanned the ship. Jennings was looking through the open data base to see whether the air supply had been damaged, fortunately it had been the lower decks. Then it hit him. The Lower decks.... The main shuttle bay...OH-
‘Sir.’
‘I see it Jennings.’ Wallace said testily.
Wallace wanted to hit Jennings in the face so hard that he had to stop himself from shaking. The ships main shuttle bay had been blown apart by the arrival and the destruction of the voyager craft. Now there was no way off. Unless they opened up the rear of the ship, and that meant putting Chamberlain back on line. With frustration he had the entire ship tri-scanned.
A moment later and the little spherical hover-bots left their sealed casings along the left and right flank of the craft. In a steady spiralling motion they began to map out the ships outer skin.
Within five minutes they had completed the front and the first quarter of the ship. Sending back a three dimensional model to the control room.
The image appeared upon the screen. A moment later, Jennings bit the side of his lip. He didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or cry. Wallace put an index finger to his lips. There was something tragic, yet vastly comical in the image upon the screen.
The lower part of the ship had been blown apart; this had also been bent up at the corners, as well as out in front. Creating the overall impression of a round face and a maniacal smiling open mouth, full of broken twisted teeth. It had also ripped through the letters above the T leaving the words “Rate er not” clearly visible.
‘Looks like the key put a smile on the old dear.’ Jennings said quietly, trying hard not to laugh.
‘It’s not funny.’ Said Wallace this ship...’ he stuttered ‘...This ship has...’ he pointed at the image upon the screen as it slowly became clearer. But the more he pointed the more the image became ludicrous.
‘What makes it worse is that we have to put Chamberlain on line.’ Jennings said dryly. ‘Captain...’ He said as an after-thought. As he turned and left the room.

*

Wallace held his chest tightly, as he stood over the engage button. If this was done, and the nuronic system’s higher functions were engaged, then anything was likely to happen. They could end up in the middle of a black hole.
Do we have a choice? He thought, but he already knew the answer. There was no choice. The minimum crew was the expendable crew, and when that came to a ship it related to the oldest and the youngest crew members. He shook his head as he pressed the engage button. The once darkened control room suddenly lit up. Revealing a faded brown tiled circular room, tired sling chairs, scratched computer consoles, a floor covered with litter and stim butts.
Within the centre of the room a ball of white light appeared, within a few moments, the light slowly began to form, into a human form. Then, an old man appeared. His large brown eyes were vacant. He had a long flowing white hair and a scraggly beard, around which a semi-toothless mouth seemed to open and close in rapid fashion, giving Wallace the impression of a gaping fish, similar to the one that he had seen at one of the Earther movies, sessions he was obliged to watch every month.
As Wallace stared at the old man sadness and affection built within him, as he recalled all those times he had spent with him. For Wallace the Excelsior was his home. He had been born here, seen his father die in Delfic attack, heard his mothers screams as she was sent to fix an exchange mounting by the engine core. After that Chamberlain became both his mother and his father, seeing him like this, seeing the ship looking ludicrous burnt him up inside.
For the first time in his life he felt ashamed of the ship, and of his heritage. A tear slowly formed in his right eye, and a lump in his throat. He looked down, feeling a little ashamed of himself and awkward.
‘Hello...err...who are you.’ The old man asked jovially.
‘Captain Wallace.’ He said sadly.
‘Captain? But where’s Captain Donovan?’
‘There’s been a change of command-
Wallace said sadly, as he recalled that Donovan had been captain forty years ago.
‘Well that’s most irregular...yes most irregular...’ Chamberlain muttered, under his breath; then, he stared vacantly at Wallace for a minute.
‘Hello me’ lad... now who are you?’ He said again as if the last conversation hadn’t happened at all.
‘It’s Wallace. Peter Wallace...’
‘My haven’t you grown.’
‘Yes...’ Wallace replied sadly.