Flight of the Mystere (Part I)

"Flight of the Mystere" is a crossover between my original sci-fi universe of Empires and the "Aliens" setting. Normally the Empires universe is on its own but people always like to compare sci-fi universes so I thought I would have some fun with it.

Flight of the Mystere

The bridge was silent, dark, unlike any other time Navigator Kal Naran had seen before. He picked himself up off the floor where he had woken up, his vision dark, head spinning, and stomach churning. What the hell happened? He heard other sounds, people moaning and coming to. He had woken up a few hepts ago to silence and darkness, and lain in waiting, held captive by a headache of stunning proportions and the fear that something had gone horribly wrong. And I lay here like shit in a sack while Thyssa knows what is happening to the ship.

Next to him came a stirring, and a familiar-voiced cough. Something brushed against him and he turned to see Lieutenant Ji sit up and scan the room. He wondered if she could see any better with her infrared eyes. Apparently she could, because her head seemed to stop and look right at the sources of sounds that Kal could only guess the locations of. Then, she turned to see him and he smiled at her. His own vision was beginning to adjust, but not enough to know what her reaction was.

“Status report?” The voice of Captain Vanson filled the bridge, and the sounds of activity grew in intensity. A low electronic whine filled the bridge as systems began to come back on line. All around, people’s faces were lit up by the multicolored panel lights at the individual crew stations. Kal Naran hauled himself up from the floor and pulled himself up into his chair, managing to do so without ever fully coming to a standing position. Beside him, Lieutenant Ji did the same. Somewhere, a comm crackled with a hiss of static and what might have been a voice, setting everyone on edge.

“Comm systems coming back on-line, Captain,” the communications officer informed. Other voices reported in afterwards-- Lieutenant Ji’s helm board sputtered to life, Kal’s astrogation board did the same, as well as the areas for science, security, intelligence, flight control, engineering, and the weapons boards. The viewscreens surrounding the spacious bridge began to display stars, first a few, then more, as they aligned themselves with the ship’s new position-- wherever that was. Kal got to work, coordinating with the science officer and intelligence section to cross-reference everything they had and find where they were.

“Astrogation,” Captain Vanson ordered, “what do you have on our location?” Kal shook his head in frustration.

“Sir, the star charts here are at base zero,” he informed the bridge. “I have absolutely no correspondence between what we see around us and data we have available.” The captain was not perturbed; the nature of their mission carried them far beyond the reaches of any previously mapped area.

“To be expected,” Vanson affirmed, “but what we need to know is, are we in the uncharted area we are supposed to be in? Can you determine the likely vector home?” The mention of home-- the Iriesii Galaxy-- seemed to weigh on the minds of the bridge crew. How long will it be before we can expect to see home again? Kal wondered to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden burst of comm static that filled the room. Everyone turned to look at Lieutenant Manak, the wanni comm officer, still new at his job.

“Sorry,” Manak muttered to everyone in general, and regained control of his station. The bridge was soon flooded with status reports.

“What are we looking at, Lieutenant?” Vanson asked. The wanni scanned the viewscreen.

“Close to one hundred and twenty six injuries of various types, sir,” Manak reported, “mostly sustained while collapsing. Another four hundred complaints of minor inflictions that do not preclude duty. Sickbays are full and roving medical teams are busy on each level,” he turned to face the captain before finishing, “Doctor Azzan asks if we need medical assistance on the bridge.” The captain scanned he room, and was met with clear, ready gazes from everyone.

“It seems we’re at one hundred percent here,” he assured Manak, who relayed the answer to the sickbay. Ship’s security checked in with no reports of intruders, and engineering reported no problems with hull integrity or power. Flight deck was operational and awaiting orders, so Vanson gave them some.

“I want patrols out, combat ready. Send them to the edges of sensor range and have them do some deep-scan sweeps to search for any signs of inhabitation. Astrogation,” Vanson again turned his attention to Kal. “Any clues as to location?”

“Still nothing, sir, although I have located galactic central point. Radiation patterns are similar to home. We appear to be close to the outer edge of a multi-armed spiral, with a large concentration of mature yellows and young reds, as well as a few rogue browns.”

“Mature spiral? Our target was an advanced dwarf cluster, Lieutenant Naran,” the captain said quietly. Kal nodded his understanding.

“Yes sir,” he confirmed, “we may not have left home at all. If what I think is true, we may be in the vicinity of Colonial Sector 172, but the star patterns are still not matching up.” Whatever the captain was going to say in reply was lost as Lieutenant-Commander Taras announced that flight operations was dispatching patrols as ordered. Screens displayed small flights of Avenger class torpedo bombers knifing out into space. Vanson sighed, and faced the science officer, a slightly overweight Q’aab who had been silent since returning to work.

“Lieutenant-Commander Jiad?” Vanson queried. The Q’aab straightened and replied to the unasked question.

“I do not know for sure, sir,” he replied, “our voyage was supposed to be about eight years, standard, and in theory we were to remain conscious the whole way. According to readings taken from the AI, as well as residue on the hull and shield units, I can determine that we have absorbed far more radiation and particles than there should be for our voyage.” The captain nodded.

“Theories?” he asked. Lieutenant-Commander Jiad frowned.

“If what Lieutenant Naran says turns out to be true, perhaps we catapulted out of the Iriesii Galaxy and got caught by some gravitic mass along the way, and slingshotted ourselves back towards our home galaxy,” he paused before adding cryptically, “or one just like it enough to fool ourselves with wishful thinking.” Captain Vanson pursed his lips and ran his fingers absently through his beard.

“If that is the case,” Vanson replied, “then we’d better start figuring out a way to get back. Jiad, you have a full-time job now.” The Q’aab looked less than pleased.

(to be continued...)