Shimmering Void --- Episode 01: Mollinus Thuli
-DEPARTURE IN T-MINUS 15 MINUTES. BE ADVISED: ALL THOSE SUSCEPTIBLE TO THE 'FOURS' ILLNESS SHOULD RETURN TO THEIR QUARTERS AND RECEIVE FLIGHT INJECTIONS. AGAIN, DEPARTURE IN T-MINUS 15 MINUTES.-
Commander Uttara Xinphaid's voice reverberated throughout the flight deck and the rest of the ship's many metallic halls and corridors as she spoke through the ship's intercom. Her Momalthan timbre echoed with an uncanny melody off the hull of the five kilometer long titanium craft, filling every empty millimeter with her presence. However, Cpt. Mollinus Thuli's attention was elsewhere while his eyes were on the HUD of his vessel's main command console; he admired the spacescape presented to him upon the holographic display and reminisced about the journey that led him to his current status as he sat alone in the bridge. It was traditional for captains to spend the first few moments at their post in solitude before a vessel's maiden voyage.
Harmony, the freshly minted flagship-superargosy of The Intergalactic Concordat Space Administration, sat at a comfortable distance in geostationary orbit above its host world: Venture, an Earth-like moon which revolved around the star system's blue gas giant many light-cycles from the captain’s home planet, which was just as far from Earth. The ship was the largest design in either species’ fleet, constructed in place using the skeleton of an experimental military vessel whose manufacture was barely underway when the conflict—in which it was meant to serve—reached a resolution. When treaties were signed and war machines were slowly decommissioned, TICSA saw an opportunity to transform the unfinished naval craft into a joint scientific endeavor. The Administration turned Harmony into a symbol of peace; it was a ship whose inception was a product of interplanetary conflict, but evolved into an example of interspecies cooperation. Humanity and Momalthans worked together for nearly ten cycles to redesign and construct the vessel using what was already built, and outfitted it with the newest and most advanced scientific equipment ever produced by either party.
Molli looked around the bridge to assess its appearance, taking in the stannic-like luster of all the various surfaces. Humanity's military spared no expense in the ship's design, and TICSA gave its fabrication carte blanche when they inherited the project, but due to the circumstances of its conception, it lacked attention to aesthetics and instead opted for an almost bleak and utilitarian construction; the sleek beauty and warm comforts found in most civilian ships were supplanted by sharp lines, gray metal, artificial displays, and sterile architecture. Even the Momalthan influence upon the ship's overall workflow was stripped down to its most rudimentary and pragmatic components. Every last cent that was withheld from cosmetics went into engineering, so when the captain's gaze returned to the console, he let out a bereft sigh, wishing that he could view the cosmos through an aperture instead of a holographic monitor. He wondered if he could stay sane aboard a windowless ship.
His mind was a tricky entity to tame, especially when faced with the prospect of a year's long exploratory mission into an undelineated star system, but the ringing voice from his second in command was quick to grab the attention of an otherwise wandering mind.
"Thank you, Commander," he said quietly to himself, giving his head a light shake to bring his focus to the present. "Wret, how are we looking on calculations?" He taps his forehead in a reflexive move to activate his ocular implants, though the action was unnecessary. Even after several months as a recipient of the updated Augmented Reality Irises, his muscles refused to unlearn the gesture. A volumetric hologram twenty centimeters in height of a suited man appeared upon the arm of the captain's chair and looked upward, meeting Molli's gaze with a slight gleam of excitement. Though the hologram was merely a facade of his implants, he was still impressed with the seamlessness and realism of the image.
"We are five minutes from completion, Captain. I will alert engineering and relay the J-Req when I have finished. Commander Xinphaid is currently collaborating with me in charting a course from the Nav-Deck."
"Thank you, Wret. Light up the bridge for me; it's about time to stretch this shiny bucket's legs," Molli said with a nod, dismissing the ship's OAISIS. He leaned toward the command console while Wret brightened the interior of the control deck, stretching his arms and shaking them at the elbow to rid himself of the tingling sensation that crept from his fingertips. It was then that he realized just how long he had been sitting in his thoughts.
After a brief moment, Wret procured a wall of diagnostic and system analytics to the console's display. It took a few extra seconds for Molli to read through the data, but he didn’t mind. TICSA expended a great amount of effort to standardize the HUD and all the ship’s interfaces to accommodate both humans and Momalthans. When it was announced that the updated design would be gradually implemented across the entire human fleet, people across the galaxy spouted criticism. Even those that rarely or never had to interact with such systems found a voice to complain. Molli didn’t mind the change, and in fact found the new configuration to be more intuitive than its predecessor. After a short time reviewing the information and logistical data presented to him, he pursed his lips and nodded.
“Wret, call Commander Xinphaid and the rest of Control to the bridge, and set the gravity to 10.5 instead of 9.81; I want to burn-in the manipulators while we’re twiddling our thumbs in transit,” Molli stated, returning to his more comfortable position within the chair. At his instruction, the ship’s AI reappeared as a projection next to the HUD.
“Yes, Captain. Would you like me to patch you through the intercom so you can make the announcement?” Wret asked, turning toward the display to interface with the information.
“No, the Commander’s words were enough, thank you.” As Wret began his analysis, Molli retreated to introspection once more.
Uttara was Molli’s first choice for commander. Though he had a long list of applicants for the ship’s Control Crew, Uttara was the only Momalthan among them. Many of the ship’s 1,500 human occupants whispered rumors that she was a TICSA plant, or that her position was only given to her for a publicity stunt, but Molli was quick to silence any chatter that was dissonant to his decision; though, it did little to dispel any clandestine hostilities that humans held for Momalthans even fifteen cycles after the war with them had come to a conclusion. In the end, it was his own adversity with his fellow service members that led him to choose Uttara.
He recalled all the tribunals he was forced to attend after the war and how vitriolic the adjudicatory council was when those upon it questioned his actions that took place in the twilight months of the hundred year conflict. Though it was decided, after many trials, that his activities were not indicative of treason, the opinions that his superiors and droves from his home-world had of him were mostly bitter. Despite this fact, and to his surprise, TICSA and a plethora of representatives from Earth vied for him to receive a promotion to Rear Admiral, but he respectfully declined. In hindsight, the opinions of others held little sway over him as his ambitions didn’t exceed that of his previous rank of Lieutenant, but several figureheads within the Momalthan military were adamant that he stay within the service of TICSA, and a few with whom he spoke convinced him to accept his current station.
Uttara far exceeded any academic prerequisites that were required of her for the position of Commander. She was one of the most decorated students of the Momalthan sector, and had proven herself a second time when scoring in the top three percent among her human peers when taking TICSA Aptitude Assessments. When Molli met her for an interview, he immediately discovered that her mastery of human languages was superior to many of his own peers, so he discounted the language barrier for any missed marks. After reading her impressive dossier, he surmised that she would have scored even higher if Momalthans were more justly represented among the assessment administrators. As far as the Captain was concerned, Uttara Xinphaid was more qualified for his position than he was, but he knew that she would not fulfill her ambitions, nor her potential, while humans outnumbered Momalthans 5:1. It was his hope that by choosing her as his second in command, it would open doors and allow her to fully realize her abilities. The only worry he held for his choice was that she was the only Momalthan that held a position on the deck.
Barely three minutes had passed before the first individuals of the Control Crew entered the bridge. In pairs and triplets, they passed through the automatic doors of the aft passageway while they excitedly chatted among themselves. Molli did not turn to receive them, though he took note of their high spirits as they made their way across the metal floor to their posts located along the perimeter. He silently willed for their positivity to endure. Soon, the deck started to fill with the crew’s alacrity as the final members reported to their assigned stations, a gentle hum of enthusiasm permeated the air, and all of those present seemed eager to commence their mission.
“Commander Xinphaid and I have completed our vector analysis.” As soon as Wret spoke Uttara’s name, the crew hushed their voices. A few whispers and chuckles could be heard, but the previous aura of thrilled animation quickly ceased to be replaced by curiosity and apprehension. The captain sighed in subtle disappointment, but he was not surprised. Most, if not all of the recruits that accompanied him had yet to meet a Momalthan, and he figured that at least half were victims of wartime propaganda and fear-mongering as adolescents or young adults. His thoughts and all the surrounding idle banter were interrupted by the Commander walking through the starboard passageway connecting to the Nav-Deck; she was silent in her stride to her place next to the captain, so too was the rest of the crew. This time, Molli stood to acknowledge her before rounding to address the rest of the bridge. Turning slowly, his eyes darted from person to person, meeting their gaze as they, including Wret, stood at attention in wait for his orders. Most were younger than him by nearly a decade, some even more, but this assured him that he needed to speak words of encouragement.
“Most of you are probably aware of who I am, but that isn’t what’s important; this is the first time in over a hundred years that anyone has ventured into uncharted space out of desire for exploration rather than fleeing in fear,” he starts, letting the weight of his words linger. Molli turns his head to gauge their reactions, ensuring they recognize that he speaks to each of them. “This is the first time in over a hundred years where we can embark upon the unknown without worry, nor sorrow, and instead reach forth in the pursuit of knowledge. This is the first time in over a hundred years where we can rid ourselves the shackles of war…of hate, and ascend beyond in the journey of understanding. You, and nearly 2,000 others aboard this ship, are the best and brightest in your respective fields. This is a historic moment, and we are all privileged to be a part of it, and I expect nothing less than the fruitful culmination of all our exemplary efforts.” A few hesitant grins break the stoicism of the crew alongside mute gestures of approval from the rest, and Molli replies to their expressions with a smile of his own before looking toward Uttara.
“Commander Xinphaid, Harmony is a-go. Lead the way.” Uttara takes her place, standing tall at the command console.
"Captain, we are set for the FOURS in two minutes. Boosters are almost at full capacity. The next 80,000 Kilometers are clear for now, but there is some debris about to cross our path." She gives a nod before turning back to the system, pulling up the trajectory map. The captain looked toward the projection that Uttara conjured, taking note of the highlighted asteroid cluster that seemed near to impeding them.
"How long do we have until those rocks get in our way?" Molli asks. The ship's AI looks over his own shoulder to inspect the screen for a moment and shrugs.
"Twenty-eight minutes, Captain; so far, I only count 143 objects to be concerned about, the rest would be a non-issue," Wret replied, returning his attention to the captain and his commander. "Even so, their orbit isn't planar with ours, so we would only be forced to delay for another seventeen minutes." Molli quietly scoffs and shakes his head, unwilling to delay their departure.
"Alright, everyone; strap in and get ready to fly. I don't want to be the one that puts the first scratches in the new paint," he says sarcastically. A few of the members chuckle, but most of the deck remains as quiet as before he voiced his comment. In a coordinated motion, all those in attendance turn to their stations, speaking to one another and collaborating their efforts. Molli looks to Commander Xinphaid with a nod, then to Wret while taking a seat. "Just out of curiosity, what is the J-Req?"
"About 45 petajoules, give or take," Wret responds. The AI summons a holographic chair for himself, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning his head upon a balled fist in a casual pose. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious." The captain shrugs. "It's about to get hot down in engineering." He shakes his head, slightly aghast. A man to Molli's left turns around in his chair to face the command console.
"Didn't you hear? The hull has those snazzy new heat sinks."
"Hm, I didn't hear. Know anything about 'em?" Molli asks, shifting to face the one who spoke.
"Not a lot, but uh, my sister works down below and she wouldn't shut up about them for weeks. Most of what she said kinda went over my head, but since Harmony isn't a fighter, the hull was fitted with the same panels used on commercial transport." Molli nods with raised eyebrows.
"That's good news, I suppose. Nice to meet you, Mr..."
"Oh!" The man stands and straightens his back. "I'm Kestra, sir. Kestra Lamarck, communications."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lamarck, but you can just call me Molli." He resists the urge to question the history of the man's first name, recognizing that its origin seems heavily influenced by Momalthan conventions. The man nods with a nervous smile and returns to his post.
"Twenty seconds to FOURS, Captain," Wret says with a perky candor. "We will be in transit for 190 hours and 18 minutes."
His mind was a tricky entity to tame, especially when faced with the prospect of a year's long exploratory mission into an undelineated star system, but the ringing voice from his second in command was quick to grab the attention of an otherwise wandering mind.
"We are five minutes from completion, Captain. I will alert engineering and relay the J-Req when I have finished. Commander Xinphaid is currently collaborating with me in charting a course from the Nav-Deck."
"Thank you, Wret. Light up the bridge for me; it's about time to stretch this shiny bucket's legs," Molli said with a nod, dismissing the ship's OAISIS. He leaned toward the command console while Wret brightened the interior of the control deck, stretching his arms and shaking them at the elbow to rid himself of the tingling sensation that crept from his fingertips. It was then that he realized just how long he had been sitting in his thoughts.
After a brief moment, Wret procured a wall of diagnostic and system analytics to the console's display. It took a few extra seconds for Molli to read through the data, but he didn’t mind. TICSA expended a great amount of effort to standardize the HUD and all the ship’s interfaces to accommodate both humans and Momalthans. When it was announced that the updated design would be gradually implemented across the entire human fleet, people across the galaxy spouted criticism. Even those that rarely or never had to interact with such systems found a voice to complain. Molli didn’t mind the change, and in fact found the new configuration to be more intuitive than its predecessor. After a short time reviewing the information and logistical data presented to him, he pursed his lips and nodded.
“Wret, call Commander Xinphaid and the rest of Control to the bridge, and set the gravity to 10.5 instead of 9.81; I want to burn-in the manipulators while we’re twiddling our thumbs in transit,” Molli stated, returning to his more comfortable position within the chair. At his instruction, the ship’s AI reappeared as a projection next to the HUD.
“Yes, Captain. Would you like me to patch you through the intercom so you can make the announcement?” Wret asked, turning toward the display to interface with the information.
“No, the Commander’s words were enough, thank you.” As Wret began his analysis, Molli retreated to introspection once more.
Uttara was Molli’s first choice for commander. Though he had a long list of applicants for the ship’s Control Crew, Uttara was the only Momalthan among them. Many of the ship’s 1,500 human occupants whispered rumors that she was a TICSA plant, or that her position was only given to her for a publicity stunt, but Molli was quick to silence any chatter that was dissonant to his decision; though, it did little to dispel any clandestine hostilities that humans held for Momalthans even fifteen cycles after the war with them had come to a conclusion. In the end, it was his own adversity with his fellow service members that led him to choose Uttara.
He recalled all the tribunals he was forced to attend after the war and how vitriolic the adjudicatory council was when those upon it questioned his actions that took place in the twilight months of the hundred year conflict. Though it was decided, after many trials, that his activities were not indicative of treason, the opinions that his superiors and droves from his home-world had of him were mostly bitter. Despite this fact, and to his surprise, TICSA and a plethora of representatives from Earth vied for him to receive a promotion to Rear Admiral, but he respectfully declined. In hindsight, the opinions of others held little sway over him as his ambitions didn’t exceed that of his previous rank of Lieutenant, but several figureheads within the Momalthan military were adamant that he stay within the service of TICSA, and a few with whom he spoke convinced him to accept his current station.
Uttara far exceeded any academic prerequisites that were required of her for the position of Commander. She was one of the most decorated students of the Momalthan sector, and had proven herself a second time when scoring in the top three percent among her human peers when taking TICSA Aptitude Assessments. When Molli met her for an interview, he immediately discovered that her mastery of human languages was superior to many of his own peers, so he discounted the language barrier for any missed marks. After reading her impressive dossier, he surmised that she would have scored even higher if Momalthans were more justly represented among the assessment administrators. As far as the Captain was concerned, Uttara Xinphaid was more qualified for his position than he was, but he knew that she would not fulfill her ambitions, nor her potential, while humans outnumbered Momalthans 5:1. It was his hope that by choosing her as his second in command, it would open doors and allow her to fully realize her abilities. The only worry he held for his choice was that she was the only Momalthan that held a position on the deck.
Barely three minutes had passed before the first individuals of the Control Crew entered the bridge. In pairs and triplets, they passed through the automatic doors of the aft passageway while they excitedly chatted among themselves. Molli did not turn to receive them, though he took note of their high spirits as they made their way across the metal floor to their posts located along the perimeter. He silently willed for their positivity to endure. Soon, the deck started to fill with the crew’s alacrity as the final members reported to their assigned stations, a gentle hum of enthusiasm permeated the air, and all of those present seemed eager to commence their mission.
“Most of you are probably aware of who I am, but that isn’t what’s important; this is the first time in over a hundred years that anyone has ventured into uncharted space out of desire for exploration rather than fleeing in fear,” he starts, letting the weight of his words linger. Molli turns his head to gauge their reactions, ensuring they recognize that he speaks to each of them. “This is the first time in over a hundred years where we can embark upon the unknown without worry, nor sorrow, and instead reach forth in the pursuit of knowledge. This is the first time in over a hundred years where we can rid ourselves the shackles of war…of hate, and ascend beyond in the journey of understanding. You, and nearly 2,000 others aboard this ship, are the best and brightest in your respective fields. This is a historic moment, and we are all privileged to be a part of it, and I expect nothing less than the fruitful culmination of all our exemplary efforts.” A few hesitant grins break the stoicism of the crew alongside mute gestures of approval from the rest, and Molli replies to their expressions with a smile of his own before looking toward Uttara.
“Commander Xinphaid, Harmony is a-go. Lead the way.” Uttara takes her place, standing tall at the command console.
"Captain, we are set for the FOURS in two minutes. Boosters are almost at full capacity. The next 80,000 Kilometers are clear for now, but there is some debris about to cross our path." She gives a nod before turning back to the system, pulling up the trajectory map. The captain looked toward the projection that Uttara conjured, taking note of the highlighted asteroid cluster that seemed near to impeding them.
"How long do we have until those rocks get in our way?" Molli asks. The ship's AI looks over his own shoulder to inspect the screen for a moment and shrugs.
"Twenty-eight minutes, Captain; so far, I only count 143 objects to be concerned about, the rest would be a non-issue," Wret replied, returning his attention to the captain and his commander. "Even so, their orbit isn't planar with ours, so we would only be forced to delay for another seventeen minutes." Molli quietly scoffs and shakes his head, unwilling to delay their departure.
"Alright, everyone; strap in and get ready to fly. I don't want to be the one that puts the first scratches in the new paint," he says sarcastically. A few of the members chuckle, but most of the deck remains as quiet as before he voiced his comment. In a coordinated motion, all those in attendance turn to their stations, speaking to one another and collaborating their efforts. Molli looks to Commander Xinphaid with a nod, then to Wret while taking a seat. "Just out of curiosity, what is the J-Req?"
"About 45 petajoules, give or take," Wret responds. The AI summons a holographic chair for himself, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning his head upon a balled fist in a casual pose. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious." The captain shrugs. "It's about to get hot down in engineering." He shakes his head, slightly aghast. A man to Molli's left turns around in his chair to face the command console.
"Hm, I didn't hear. Know anything about 'em?" Molli asks, shifting to face the one who spoke.
"Not a lot, but uh, my sister works down below and she wouldn't shut up about them for weeks. Most of what she said kinda went over my head, but since Harmony isn't a fighter, the hull was fitted with the same panels used on commercial transport." Molli nods with raised eyebrows.
"That's good news, I suppose. Nice to meet you, Mr..."
"Oh!" The man stands and straightens his back. "I'm Kestra, sir. Kestra Lamarck, communications."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lamarck, but you can just call me Molli." He resists the urge to question the history of the man's first name, recognizing that its origin seems heavily influenced by Momalthan conventions. The man nods with a nervous smile and returns to his post.
"Twenty seconds to FOURS, Captain," Wret says with a perky candor. "We will be in transit for 190 hours and 18 minutes."
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