Off Course Read online

  Off Course

  By: Doug Farren

  Copyright © 2011

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Off Course

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Cover art design:Heather Zak

  Published by:Doug Farren

  Author Photo by:John Gilbey

  Printed by:CreateSpace

  Cover art Copyright © 2011 by Doug Farren

  Chapter 1

  Captain Arnold J. Zak took great pride in how he ran his ship. The Star-Pulse was an enormous, hellishly expensive, interstellar freighter. The only way to pay for the cost of the vessel and eventually pull a profit from it was to keep its cargo hold packed on every trip and run the ship as efficiently as possible.

  Fuel was the vessel's greatest operating expense – its mammoth fusion reactors burned deuterium, a commodity difficult to extract from mother nature. Earth's fusion-based economy had resulted in the construction of giant, fusion-powered, ocean-going vessels specifically built to extract the precious deuterium from seawater. In small amounts, it was quite affordable. But the cryo-tanks of the Star-Pulse held thousands of liters.

  AJ (the only name he preferred to use) was a true spacer. He felt more at home in the close confines of a spaceship than under an open sky. He was of average height, standing 181 centimeters tall. His face, as were all spacers', was clean shaved. AJ's, however, displayed a constant dark shadow that no amount of shaving could eradicate. If allowed to grow, his thick, black beard would have quickly taken over his face. Despite his rough appearance, he was even-tempered, soft-spoken, easy-going, and well-liked by his crew.

  The Captain rarely left his ship and tended to it as if it were his only child. The fact that he had never married seemed to give credence to this belief. While in space, he held his crew to his own high standards but gave them considerable leeway while the ship was in port. The freighter of course, had been built in space and would never feel even a hint of atmosphere on its thick skin. All cargo was transported to and from the huge vessel by large cargo shuttles.

  To save weight and to allow for the maximum amount of cargo to be carried, the Star-Pulse was equipped with only two small, long-range shuttles. In the very unlikely event the ship had to be abandoned, the crew could live in the cramped shuttles for up to three months. Each shuttle could hold the entire crew plus two others. For safety reasons, they were mounted externally on opposite sides of the hull.

  The shuttles were part of the many safety features built into the ship, yet they were often viewed as a corporate joke played upon the crew. It was a well-known fact that if the ship was to somehow become completely disabled, the crew would be doomed. Even though the Star-Pulse could travel at faster-than-light velocities, any distress signal they might transmit would be restricted to the speed of light. The shuttles were even more limited in their speed. By the time any would-be rescuer responded, the crew would be long dead.

  At the moment, the Star-Pulse was in orbit above the Indishar colony world of Stivnet. The Indishar was one of three space-capable races that humans had encountered since the discovery of the hyperjump drive more than 50 years ago. Despite all the science fiction horror stories written over the years, humans and aliens coexisted peacefully. Interstellar war simply made no sense. Funding the construction of an interstellar armada would bankrupt any planet.

  The Indishar preferred to colonize planets humans would consider harsh and barely livable. Their physiology was adapted to living in a very dry, very hot climate. An Indishar visiting Earth would consider the hottest day in the middle of Death Valley as chilly. Their thick, leathery skin, along with a complex moisture recovery and internal temperature regulation system, gave the Indishar the ability to enjoy sweltering hot, dry environments with ease.

  “Transport at dock one is requesting permission to depart,” Chief Petty Officer Lora McKintyre quietly reported from the combined communications and engineering station. The 36 year old chief was the only member of the original commissioning crew left aboard. Her flaming red, collar-length hair, along with her heavy accent, were a direct result of her Irish roots. “Fuel transfer valves are closed and the umbilical is disconnected.”

  AJ glanced at his console, his dark, brown eyes, shielded by his ever-present cap, quickly scanned the bank of screens making up the captain’s station. In addition to hauling cargo, the transports also served as fuel carriers. The load of fuel from this transport had topped off the Star-Pulse’s deuterium tanks.

  “Granted,” he said, keeping his voice at a level just loud enough to allow his reply to be heard.

  The bridge was as quiet as a library. The soft whisper of the ventilation system generated a faint background noise which was occasionally enhanced by the chirps and whistles of the ship's electronic instruments. AJ, Lora, and First Class Petty Officer Thomas Rimshi at the helm, were the only three on the bridge. The rest of the crew, with the exception of the sleeping third-shift bridge watch, was involved with the all-important job of handling cargo.

  Most of the freighter's gargantuan bulk was dedicated to cargo. It was how the ship, and the company that owned it, made money. Everything about the Star-Pulse was designed for efficiency. Despite being nearly a kilometer in length, the gigantic ship had a crew of only sixteen. To keep the crew happy during their long voyages, each was provided with a spacious cabin. Three spare cabins could accommodate guests and the occasional passenger.

  Critical spare parts that could not be manufactured in the ship's almost totally automated machine shops were kept on board allowing repairs to be performed while still in space. A small army of maintenance and repair robots continually roamed the inside and outside of the vessel keeping the complex machine running in top condition.

  The huge, cavernous, multilevel cargo bay could simultaneously service eight transports – four on the port side and four on the starboard side. The cargo area completely surrounded the part of the ship that housed everything else: Living quarters; Engineering spaces; Machine shops; etc. If the Star-Pulse could somehow be stripped of its surrounding cargo space, it would still be a functional spacecraft.

  “Dock one is clear and the hatch is closed,” Lora announced. “Unload is complete.”

  “Roger that. Status of new cargo?”

  Lora typed in a quick query then reported, “The last ship should be unloaded and all cargo secured in 15 minutes.”

  “Very well. Mr. Rimshi, begin your preflight check for departure,” the Captain ordered. “Next stop – Earth.”

  “Aye Sir,” Thomas replied turning to his panel. Thomas had been born in India to a poor family and had joined the merchant marines four years ago to make a better life for himself. He spoke perfect, accent-free English, preferred to keep his head absolutely clear of all hair, and was a man who seemed to be possessed of near infinite patience.

  Before the Star-Pulse could begin its trip to Earth, the ship's computer had to work its way through a complex set of navigational calculations. Even though the freighter's central computer was one of the fastest available, the calculations were of such complexity that the machine would have to chew on them for nearly 15 minutes. Once complete, the results were valid for only a short period of time.

  AJ depressed a toggle on his console connecting his microphone to the ship’s com system. Every crew me
mber wore a communications device on their wrists. These devices allowed instant communication between any of the crew as long as they were near the ship. When working in high noise areas, all crew members were required to wear an ear-bud and throat mike.

  “All hands this is the captain,” AJ made his presence known. “Anyone not directly involved in cargo handling should begin their preflight inspections. Report results to the engineering station. Let's get that last ship unloaded.”

  Most of the crew had been with the Star-Pulse for a number of years and they knew the Captain's routine by heart. As such, his announcement was more of a formality than anything else. Left on their own, they would have completed their inspections without any prompting.

  “You heard the man!” lead handler Heather Contreras bellowed into the cargo handler's private channel. “Let's clear the rest of this cargo and lock it down.”

  Her machine approached one of the few remaining containers at the back of the Indishar ship, its two arms extended to either side of the standardized container. Operating the machine as if it were an extension of her own body, she slowed until the front alignment pin locked itself into the receiving clamp causing a green light on her heads-up display to come on.

  The arms closed along the sides and locked in place as the handler's computer downloaded the container's contents. A location code flashed on the HUD as she reversed direction and backed the machine out of the ship. The handler's optics automatically switched to the other side of the machine so she could see where she was going. On the way out of the transport, she passed an empty Indishar handler on its way to retrieve another container.

  Numbers flashed on Heather's display showing the current location inside the Star-Pulse's cargo bay. Half-way to her intended destination, she spun the manipulator one-hundred and eighty degrees without slowing down. She deposited the cargo on the deck and waited until the computer reported that the container had been locked down. Checking her display, she noted that Keith and Tony were already heading back to pick up the last two containers.

  Heather had been with the Star-Pulse almost as long as the ship had been in service. She knew how it had performed under the previous captain and how much it had improved under AJ's command. She looked far younger than her real age of thirty-three. She kept her brown hair cut very short which seemed to enhance the beauty of her deeply tanned face. Well proportioned and shapely, she was often the target of men's desire.

  Heather, however, was a 179 centimeter tall powerhouse capable of handling even the most aggressive male. She held a black belt in both judo and taekwondo. She seemed to have an endless amount of energy and expected the other handlers to keep up with the pace she set. When off the ship, she enjoyed partying as much as any spacer, being able to drink most of the male crew under the table while still being in command of her faculties.

  Parking the handler truck in its dock, she powered the unit down and popped open the rear hatch. Sandy Cornelius and her brother Randy were standing together talking in the ready room. Jean Picolli was just parking his machine.

  Heather waited by the hatch until it indicated closed and the display on the wall showed that her loader was recharging before turning to the others. Jean's hatch was just opening and the group gathered around.

  “Great job guys!” Heather said as soon as Jean's head cleared the hatch. “First round's on me as soon as we’re planet-side back on Earth. We have no time to slack though. You all know the skipper's routine. Stow your gear and get to your departure stations. Time to head for home!”

  The crew scattered, each to a separate area of the ship. Heather hung around until the final two members of her team emerged from their loaders. After giving them the same speech they also took off. Heather made a final check of the loading machines making sure they were all securely locked into place.

  Tapping her wrist-com, she held the device up to her mouth and said, “Bridge, this is Contreras. Cargo deck is secure.”

  “Cargo deck secure. Thank you Heather,” the Chief replied.

  Heather smiled to herself as she walked down the passageway at her normal fast pace. She had a good crew working for her and now with Captain Zak running things, the ship was a model of efficiency. They should be arriving in Earth orbit ahead of schedule, meaning they would all get a good bonus for this trip.

  Chapter 2

  AJ made sure the Star-Pulse was maintained in top condition. Marginal equipment was not tolerated. The company, Trans-Stellar Cargo, had complained about the high maintenance cost under the newly hired captain but continued to allow him to run the ship as he pleased. AJ's record at his last job was exemplary with his ship turning in some of the highest profits in the company's fleet.

  The previous captain of the Star-Pulse had allowed the ship's systems to be maintained at barely minimal company standards. Although the maintenance cost had been low, the ship experienced an average of two malfunctions a year which resulted in a delay in cargo delivery. Such delays were very expensive.

  Within two years of his taking command of the Star-Pulse, AJ had reduced such incidents to zero as well as having improved other aspects of the ship's operation. He paid attention to suggestions from the crew and, when possible, implemented them. Many changes such as reducing fuel costs, eliminating delays in cargo shipment, and improvements in how fast cargo was moved into and out of the ship, had come directly from the crew. It all added up to savings and his ship quickly became the top money maker for TSC. Now, nobody complained when he insisted on replacing a marginal component.

  Glancing at the clock, AJ said, “Chief McKintyre, commence main reactor startup.”

  “Start the main reactor aye,” she repeated back the order while at the same time entering the proper commands into her console.

  After receiving confirmation from the ship's engineering computer that the startup was underway, Chief McKintyre checked her status board and reported, “Dock three is clear – closing the hatch.”

  “Thank you Chief,” AJ replied without looking up. He was running his own preflight checklist by scrolling through the various status screens. “Let me know when the transport is clear,” he added.

  A few minutes later, Chief Rimshi announced, “The transport has disengaged from the locking arm and will be clear of the ship in two minutes.”

  “Very well. Chief, when you get a moment please tell the Indishar that it’s been a pleasure doing business with them. Tell them we’ll be departing in about ten minutes.”

  “Aye Sir.”

  “Great work guys,” AJ complimented his entire crew. “Let's make sure everything is stowed for acceleration and entry into hyperspace. Earth and some much deserved R&R are only a few weeks away.”

  “The main reactor is lit and stable,” Lora reported.

  “I have a course solution,” Thomas said a moment after the computer informed him that the calculations had been completed.

  “Chief, go ahead and start the backup reactors then top off the hyperdrive power stores when you can,” AJ ordered. “Helm, lock in the course and make preparations for departure.”

  A few minutes later, the Captain's status board indicated all green and he gave the order to depart. After informing the crew, Thomas entered the command into the ship's navigational computer and watched as the machine brought the engines online. With a slight shuddering, the ship began to accelerate.

  From this point forward, the job of the helmsman was to monitor the automatic operation of the ship's propulsion system as the computer handled the chore of taking the ship back to Earth. So much of the ship's operation was automated that the crew rarely had the chance to actually operate the ship manually. AJ knew the risks of always relying upon the automatic systems and would periodically insist that the crew do things manually to maintain proficiency.

  The Star-Pulse ponderously swung around and settled onto a course that would take it out of Stivnet's gravitational influence where the hyperdrive could safely be operated. Activating a hyperdrive engine
while too close to a large gravitational mass was dangerous and could result in the ship becoming permanently lost. The angle of entry and the hyperdrive field configuration that existed as the ship made the transition to faster-than-light drive was critical.

  To AJ's seasoned senses, everything felt right. Each ship had its characteristic noises and vibrations caused by the operation of the gigantic machines within its hull. As the ship accelerated out of the system, the vibration of the engines powering it spoke to him in a language that only seasoned space veterans could appreciate.

  The vibrations occasionally bothered some of the unwanted passengers living aboard the Star-Pulse. In this particular instance, a small, brown spider, apparently believing its hiding place had become unsafe, ventured out into the open. It crawled out of a cooling vent on the side of the captain's console and made its way down the front of one of the auxiliary display screens.

  AJ called up a summary of the hyperdrive system on the screen the spider was using as an escape route. When he turned to check on the status of the hyperdrive he saw nothing except a larger than life, back-lit arachnid making its way across the screen. A chill ran down his spine and his stomach knotted up.

  Whispering an oath to help maintain his composure, AJ kept his eyes locked on the spider as he reached down with his right hand and pulled off his shoe. The shoes worn aboard a starship were more like slippers than standard, hard-soled shoes. They were designed for comfort and grip. In the event of a loss of the ship's artificial gravity, being able to accurately kick off from almost any surface was a must. They were also easily removed in case the crew had to don their emergency suits. The shoe also made an excellent device to squish a spider – which AJ quickly did.

  Who in their right mind could stand the creepy little things? They left their annoying webs hanging all over the place to get into your face or collect dust in every possible unreachable corner. How they managed to find their way onto a starship built entirely in orbit was a mystery to AJ. He not only disliked them, he was phobic about them as well. It wasn't something he was proud of and he kept it a secret from all but his closest friends.