Sky With No Stars

Opening Poem: Stars and Voids

The whispers of eternity are slow-burning embers,

The weary telescope of finite vision burns with curiosity,

The vastness of distance, a sea sullied with nothingness

It’s the nothingness that chills us,

It’s the vastness that haunts us,

Its unknown dark nature of void that gazes down at us

Blind spots are a river of reality that never fully felt

Blind spots are magnetized limits of vision

Blind spots are the dialogue of restricted comprehension

Distance is a peace when the touch is awkward

Distance is a temple when mayhem is rushing over

Distance is an omnipotent king when gazing out at the void

The stars are islands of belief

The stars are oases of entropy

The stars are anchors in finding our direction in the cosmos

The void is an expanding conquistador

The void is a sea of empty scarcity

The void is the Lovecraftian deity with no consideration of sentient emotion

Introduction

After the Prophet known as Asurmaan-Ra defeated and brokered peace with Fluxians[1], humans and Fluxians live in peace and have combined technologies. This unification has led to a galactic colonization and exploration effort. Though the closest[2] Systems are easy to colonize, and the ones further in space need missions to map the way and set up communication arrays and observatories on planets in systems far out of reach of the Whassenian Imperium. Through the use of 6th-generation Dabian drives, near-blind missions are sent out to explore and map out the galaxy. 

Section One: Exploring the Unknown

“Distance is the perfect Silencer.”

            Captain Datus Yalazir Lakerum, a five-foot-nine man of near untraceable ethnic background, walks into Falduir station’s loading bay 19Q in the Proxima Centauri system. It’s one of the three things he owns. The other two, bay 22A at the Phasleen Spaceport on Earth, and the ship Drapaseen V, his current wife. His other wife died many years ago in the Fluxian invasion. As a retired imperium space navigator, he never made a permanent home when he got out of service.

His orange pilot coat and black garb are a gritty look. One he picked up along the way after his retirement. His dreaded hair is common on the highways, and byways in the sea of the void have beads from nine different planets. His frequent run-in with pirates and other unsavory beings along the way keeps a blaster at his hip, and another one is hidden. His tool belt is constant; even if he is not wearing his orange pilot coat, he always wears his tool belt.

His second in command, first mate Cella Palah, was a logistics shipper for most of his life. Though he never officially served with the imperium, he did many missions aiding the imperial space naval command. The six-foot-two Indian man is a sight to behold, with his long mustache and large muscular frame. Perceived as a generation or a half behind Lakerum, they didn’t start off thick in connection but thin in trust.

Yet over the years, they have enough miles to fly to the center of the Milky Way and form a carbon, carbon triple bond of captain and first mate (FM), where Drapaseen V is the only bride they share. The years between the two combine to make the duo feel like ancient void mariners. Their runs between nearby systems over and back make their experience unparalleled to anyone else in human history. Palah is the only one Lakerum will ask for help from in public.

            The crew is a hodgepodge of experience and newbies. The crew of eleven ranges from a near-perfect subject matter expert in Propulsion Expert Pulman Femision to a near liability and extra redundant communication specialist in Qersa Laervious. Yet, they know who the boss is. They had their initial brief from Lakerum days ago. He treats them like his religion, disciplined and concise. His crew stands in formation, making the three scientists feel out of place.

The three share only a doctorate in their respectable areas but not a purpose. Doctor Vazella Gramew, a professor at the University of Datriarch on planet Mars specializing in long-distance communications, is on the mission to solidify communications to expand the Whassanian Imperium mapping system. Doctor Daquer Xenimin, professor of Astrobiology at the University of Nhassir, is on the mission to record and quantify life forms they may find. The last scientist, Doctor Malesia Draadia, professor of Astronomy from the University of Venus, is on the voyage to help with any astronomical anomalies.

            Lakerum looks at the wealth of knowledge as dead weight. He sees value in Dr. Gramew as she is the main purpose of the mission, but beauty in Dr. Draadia. After Lakerum checks his crew's supplies, making sure they have everything an explorer of the stars should have. He nods at Palah to guide them aboard the ship and ready for launch. He looks staunchly at the three scientists and says,

            “This is my ship with your equipment on board. Our mission is to map out a new star lane and send communication back. Dr. Gramew, you have priority. The others…hurry up and take your readings or whatever the hell you need to do.”

            Dr. Xenmin, a man of the same height as Lakerum but not confidence, asks,

            “Sir, how many specimens can I take back?”

            “As many as you can fit into your designated section.”

            “What if there are more, or bigger than expected?”

            “Then, professor, you’ll have to take a picture…so it can last longer.”

            The man picks his things up with no more questions and walks on board. Dr. Draadia walks over to the Lakerum. She towers over him at six foot two. Lakerum’s near crystal blue eyes dilate, and she says,

            “You will allow me to finish my mapping.”

            The tall professor of astronomy looks down at the captain of the ship. Trying to impose her height and will yet, he, with a smile in a delighted tone, says,

            “Dr Gremew has priority, Ma’am. If you assist her, I’m certain the mission will go smoothly.”

            She squints her eyes as though trying to force him to change his words, and he continues,

            “That might work on students searching for academic assurance but not on me. You’re on my ship, and it's my purpose to get you to Dasire XI and back, so I don’t care if you’re the prettiest thing in the known systems. You’ll follow my rules.”

            The last phrase throws her off balance. The professor, used to getting her way, grabs her things and boards the ship. Palah comes back out and says,

            “Cap, everyone is ready.”

            “Great start the preflight checks, and I will talk to the station master.”

            “Roger that.”

            Lakerum walks to the station master room and knocks on the door. The door opens, and Izell welcomes him in.

            “Captain Lakerum, where are y’all heading.”

            “Dasire XI.”

            “Oh, that hasn’t been touched yet.”

            “Yeah, this is my last mission, though.”

            “Really, why?”

“It's time for me to retire; I…have too many memories…hauntings. I need to leave my second profession, giving me nightmares.”

“I can understand that. When can we expect you to be back?”

            “Six years.”

            “Great, I'll mark it down. By that time, I should be hitting retirement, too.”

            “Well, I’ll buy a drink for us both. When I get back from sailing the infinite sea of darkness, I’ll buy us some Qyberian whiskey.”

            “Yeah, that’s wonderful, sounds great.”

            The two shake hands. Lakerum leaves, and Izell logs the mission into the computer. When the captain returns to the bay, he looks at the ship and can hear the engines humming. He smiles at the sight, his ship being one of the few things he does smile at. His moment of bliss is interrupted by an Imperium Lieutenant. He can see the rushing young man coming for him. Yet, he knows why, and he waits. When the lieutenant gets to his position, he pulls out a digital tablet and says,

            “Captain Lakerum.”

            “Yes…lieutenant.”

            He looks at the suit…somewhat jealous at the newness of it. Yet glad he doesn’t have to wear the uniform anymore.

            “You need….to sign your waiver… and put your Dabian drive serial number down.”

            Lakerum looks agitated at the young man, out of breath, knowing it needs to be done, but frustrated, the young man waits till the last moment to ask for the information. Lakerum grabs the tablet from the young man. He fills it out as he has done many times before, and when he enters the Dabian drive serial number, he sees the log of his missions and reflects on his retirement life. He hands the tablet back, and when the lieutenant says thank you, he doesn’t turn back around.

Section Two: Yonder

“The safety in distance is it creates a limit, but unlimited distance is unsafe.”

When Lakerum walks closer to his spouse of the stars again he looks at his home, his ship, his love. Drapaseen V. He hears the ship humming as she should be. The Zerluion class freighter was a steal when he bought it, but he had to make logistical runs for anyone who would hire him to pay it off. He had to update it, upgrade it, and then make his own personal modifications. The ship is truly his own. The most expensive thing was the 6th generation Dabian drive, bought straight from the company Obsidian Theories. 

He got the warranty because the Imperial Empire subsidized part of the cost to incentivize the public to engage in exploration. The funny thing is, if the drive puts you in the middle of a star or black hole, you can’t cash in the policy…you’re already dead.

The ship, the third generation of its kind, was built to be a medium tactical logistics carrier for the imperium, but once it was phased out of service, it went fast, like fresh pastries in the window. Pirates, freelancers, gangs, and anyone with a mildly rich budget bought one. Lakerum used his retirement settlement.

The ship is a smooth-headed freighter with four Yeagen engines. The ship started off as a soft gold color since it was built for the imperium, but now it’s a matte rustic black with a patchwork of new and upgraded sensors, which adds off colors of silver and steel. Yet Lakerum has put his mark on it with the name Drapassen V on the top set of the quad wings. The quad wings at their origin nestle the Yeagen engines and then sprout out. Yet the most expensive thing, the Dabian drive, looks like alien technology attached to the backside of the ship. The name Drapaseen V is on each side of the ship in orange paint is an homage to one of his old units.

The ship is massive to early human generations but medium-sized if not undersized to what is in the Imperial Navy Wolfgang 2nd generation battle cruiser being the largest tactical vessel in known galactical space. Which can hold several Zerluion freighters. The secret to the Drapaseen’s usefulness is its load-out package.

Lakerum touches the ramp opening and does his normal Malhassenian prayer before takeoff. He walks in, and though he looks at a supply bay half-filled, he grins, knowing pirates won’t be after his supplies this time. He looks at the communication array tucked beside the ATEV (Aeronautical Tactical Exploration Vehicle). The large array is the only thing on his ship he doesn’t know about. He turns and places his hand on the keypad to seal the ramp and the door, then heads to the command deck.

Palah and some crew look at him as he sits in his command chair. The chair is the second thing he took from his time in the service. The textile is worn but is still covered in old imperium emblems like a lucky jacket a die-hard fan can’t give up. When he sits, he asks,

“Saldesse, take us out.”

The systems expert says,

“Yes, captain.”

The large ship lifts off the ground. The bottom set of wings that were folded in expand like a large bird ready for flight. The Drapaseen V lifts and the takeoff crew sees its full structure. As it lifts, Lakerum says,

“Is everyone safely in a pod?”

Saldesse looks at her display and says,

“Yes, captain.”

“Good…it’s my last rodeo. Give me the reigns.”

“Yes, captain.”

She slides an icon over, and the sticks attached to Lakerum’s seat are given control, and he shows why he is the captain. He moves the ship smoothly and easily. Knowing his way out of the station by heart, he almost ignores the guidance drones and lifts off the crew. When he gets to the vacuum transition chamber, he waits for the first station doors to open.

When the doors slowly grind open, he moves the ship into the large mechanical chamber. The large mechanical door closes behind the ship and seals. Then, the ship shakes a little, going from holding its own weight to being weightless. Lakerum manipulates the thruster controls like a string instrument, his two hands dancing over nobs and switches.

Then, the doors to the void open, and he moves the ship slowly in position. As the doors widen, one can see the gears and pistons of the large door churn open. The door opens to reveal an ocean littered with stars and cosmic bodies. Born on a Plutonian colony he has always seen the infinite sea of void as his home.

As he moves the ship, he is reminded this is why. This is why he does it. Not for money, not for the reputation, but for the thrill of flying. The thrill of the unknown. The feel of dancing with his bride in the ballroom of space in the shine of the chandeliers of stars and nebula. He moves the ship slowly forward when the doors are fully opened and then guides the ship to its jump point. He asks his navigation specialist,

“Salleen, how far to the jump point?”

“723 Miles.”

“Good.”

He moves the ship along the dotted lines shown by the nav computer to the jump point, and he asks,

“Salleen, how do you feel about the calculations?”

“I am certain.”

“How certain?”

“6 degrees of certainty.”

“Ok.”

Lakerum doesn’t question her calculations, having been with her for seven missions prior. He moves the ship with certainty, following the guide path. When the ship reaches the jump point, he turns a switch and says,

“Propulsion load fuel. Access code Dauntless.”

Femison in the engine room types the code into the keypad and a locked case clicks. He pulls out a dark matter tertiary container. With a plethora of warning labels on two containers Femison pulls out one of the twin secondary containers. Then locks the other one back in. Femison presses a key code in the propulsion system computer, and the engine opens up, and he takes out a small cube of incased dark matter. The propulsion specialist uses specialized thongs to lift the cube out of the protective case and place it in the engine. Once in place, he hits a button, and the engine closes. He says,

“Captain, fuel loaded and heading to the pod.”

Lakerum responds,

“Good.”

Then, he stabilizes the ship for the jump and gives control over the ship's A.I. Qen—the same name as his dead wife.

“Qen, you may activate Dabian drive.”

“Yes Lakerum.”

He then tells the crew in the command deck,

“Seal up.”

A pod is created around them. A smooth porcelain shell comes over the seats. Then, pods fill with fluid. When he sees the crew is at 92% ready, he tells Qen,

“Launch Dabian drive seven minutes after I seal up.”

“Yes Lakerum.”

He presses a button in his chair to seal up. The chair is encased. A mask drops down, and he locks it over his face, and then a milky green fluid fills the pod. When seven minutes go by, the Qen ignites the Dabian drive. The drive, having its own low-frequency humming sound, makes a deep drip sound, then a loud knock, and the ship accelerates faster than the human eye can see. Like anything with a 6th Generation Dabian, it becomes the fastest manmade object given to the public. The trail of ions shows the path but not the destination over such vast distances.

[1] Fluxians, collective of sentient beings that came from the Andromeda galaxy.

[2] Close (4-20 Light Years)