* Again, I would like to say thanks to Joe MacDonald for the idea of Arae and ARA Corp. *
Since the first demonstration on November 5, 2055, there was no layman's explanation for how faster than light travel was possible that would be in any way accurate, or make sense. The best researchers on the phenomenon lived in the Darkaellan Imperium; Earth and Nova Sol had their own FTL manufacturing capacity, but in general the quality was inferior, and they were only sixty percent as fast, at best.
FTL had been a very dangerous way to travel; roughly a third of the first hundred ships built to take advantage of the new drive technology were lost in space, some were found, most were not. The discovery of the first FTL transit locus between the Sol system and Rigel Kentaurus had made traveling between the stars considerably safer. The accidental discovery of transit loci, however, was seen as the major reason why humanity had spread so quickly throughout the systems nearest to the Earth.
A transit locus was essentially just a volume of space that, for whatever reason, was 'easier' for ships to break out of normal space and into FTL. A considerable amount of effort had been expended in trying to determine what lay behind this, but no theory that fit the available facts had yet to present itself. DTI, as the primary FTL drive manufacturer was the most experienced with the underlying principles, yet even their best scientists and technicians were at a loss to explain the phenomenon. Transit loci nevertheless existed, and several hundred had been cataloged since the position of the first was plotted. Loci had also been given classifications based on their size, stability, and 'depth'. The last category was a reference to how much energy a ship's drive would have to expend in order to make the transition; the greater the depth, the easier it became to make the jump. They also made the drop from FTL to normal space easier on the other end. Given the distances involved in traveling between stars, no mater how close they might be, the accuracy of a pilot's astrogation borders on something resembling an extreme form of OCD. The smallest error can result in massive variations in the position from which a ship emerges out of FTL. Hitting a specific point in space from several light years away was no easy task, and good starship pilots were often the best paid members of a ship's crew.
Loci classes ranged from Alpha 3 and 2, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Omega; of these the Alpha 3 Locus was the most desirable, due to their size, easily predictable position, and extremely good depth. They were also regularly patrolled and monitored, had no natural hazards, and were not too far out from a system's primary star. Alpha 2 loci weren't much different except that they were not patrolled, but had remote monitoring satellites watching over them. An Alpha was free from natural hazards, but was unmonitored, nor was it patrolled regularly. The Alpha loci were the most commonly sought by privateers who didn't want their comings and goings too closely observed. Beta loci were listed as 'mostly safe', which generally meant that the likelihood of running into a natural hazard or the risk of piracy was low, but not nonexistent. They also often had less depth than Alphas, but some have been surveyed that are actually much deeper, and are closer to the primary of the solar systems in which they appear, making them ideal for smuggling. Betas are also less stable, potentially causing a massive drain on a ship's power reserves. Gamma loci were considered barely safe at all, and were classified as such due to significant natural hazards, piracy, or armed conflict; no pilot with any experience or an alternative would consider using a Gamma locus, except in a life or death emergency. An Omega locus was a totally different matter.
Any pilot knowingly transiting an Omega locus could count on having his license revoked, which made the generous assumption that the ship and crew survived. Omega transits were almost universally considered an exotic form of suicide at best. There was intense speculation as to how and why Omega loci were even charted; pilots tended to be a conservative bunch with regards to risk, however, and weren't likely to try to find out firsthand. Some people had suggested that systems were given a blanket Omega classification because there was something there that the UniSys Stellar Cartography Group did not want discovered. No one ever really paid much attention to the rumors of intelligent alien life, strange artifacts, UniSys or Corporate black sites, but the rumors persisted to the point where one had to admit that there might be something to them. There was a massive loophole in the classification system, however; a ship with a suitably powerful drive, like Cameron's own, didn't need to use a transit locus to make the transition to FTL. The Jester was so overpowered for its size that, when combined with his state of the art drive, he had no real need to use transit loci at all. Doing so was not recommended practice, and a crapshoot to be sure, but it could be done.
Cameron combed the fingers of his free hand through his graying brown hair, the other raised the thick-bottomed crystal tumbler of Terran scotch whiskey to his lips for a contemplative sip of the smoky flavored amber fluid, chilled to perfection by a pair of frozen stone spheres that would not melt or alter the flavor of the beverage.
He savored the scotch, both for its flavor, and its scarcity; the distillery which had produced it was located on an island west of the Scottish mainland on Earth, and it had been largely unaffected by The Devastation. It had been part of a case he'd bought on one of his rare trips through the Terran solar system. There was little reason for him to go to Earth; the large bulk carriers brought raw materials to the massive refueling stations around Jupiter, Mars orbit, or the Moon.
Earth sucked in raw materials and spat out colonists. Some of them were lucky enough to be able to afford a ticket to a specific world or station, although the latter normally only did so if they had a job lined up already. Other colonists took whatever passage they could get, and hoped for the best; most of the governments on Earth offered cut-rate transport to anyone who wanted to go. As long as you didn't mind the idea of ending up on a marginal world, you could travel for practically nothing. Some colonists weren't given any choice at all. Many governments made it a practice to ship out some of the more restless members of society. China was one of the biggest; they shipped out over half a million dissidents, deviants, petty criminals, and unemployed homeless people a year. They shipped out people whose only crime was to be on the wrong side of an argument with a government official, or someone with the political connections to make it happen. When the former United States of America split into its current three parts, the New Confederate States had possessed no qualms about using 'involuntary transportation' as a way to deal with its own dissenters.
Then there were the corporations, that for any number of reasons, had decided to set up new colonies on far flung worlds. Some of them had become stunning success stories; Minotaur was one such. The Darkaellan Imperium was founded by the multisolar HHI, and had comprised mostly Northern European secularists; whose highly ethnocentric makeup led to some raging accusations of racism. Resodyne Genetics had bought out ARA Corp, which had tried to colonize the Arae system far out on the edge of the populated sphere, nearly out in the mining systems, but something had gone catastrophically wrong and the whole effort had been abandoned. The Arae system's transit locus was listed as an Omega, but there was no actual prohibition on entering the system from beyond the 5 light hour limit. His ship's endurance would allow him to enter the system from well outside the star's gravity well, with a narrow margin to operate before they would have to turn around and come back.
He considered the file on his office terminal, displaying all of the information he had been able to track down on the system, and he couldn't understand why the decision had been made to abandon the colony. It was the footnotes of an appendix to the main document that had captured his attention; whatever had happened, had happened on the planet, but there was no mention of the colony ship in any of the insurance records. Resodyne had never made a claim of ownership on any vessel in her class when they acquired ARA Corp's assets, which meant that there was potentially a whole colony ship lost in that system somewhere with no owner in sight. The idea of an asset that huge just drifting along, free for the taking, made Cameron want to drool out of sheer avarice. All by itself, that ship was worth over 500 Million UniSys Credits, but if it was still loaded with colony equipment, that could easily double. It was the kind of payday that every salvage operator hoped for.
He still had a lot of questions about whether or not he should do what he was planning, but the answers could only be had by going and doing it. Once the ship reached Vulcanfall, he would either have to commit or back away; he would be in sorry shape financially if he did the latter, and likely bankrupt if the former didn't work out as hoped.
His light brown eyes stared unfocused at the terminal's screen as he leaned back in his office chair and brought up his glass to his lips to take another sip, but his thoughts ran through the possibilities and pitfalls that lay ahead once more, trying to find some certainty amidst the unknowns.
FTL had been a very dangerous way to travel; roughly a third of the first hundred ships built to take advantage of the new drive technology were lost in space, some were found, most were not. The discovery of the first FTL transit locus between the Sol system and Rigel Kentaurus had made traveling between the stars considerably safer. The accidental discovery of transit loci, however, was seen as the major reason why humanity had spread so quickly throughout the systems nearest to the Earth.
A transit locus was essentially just a volume of space that, for whatever reason, was 'easier' for ships to break out of normal space and into FTL. A considerable amount of effort had been expended in trying to determine what lay behind this, but no theory that fit the available facts had yet to present itself. DTI, as the primary FTL drive manufacturer was the most experienced with the underlying principles, yet even their best scientists and technicians were at a loss to explain the phenomenon. Transit loci nevertheless existed, and several hundred had been cataloged since the position of the first was plotted. Loci had also been given classifications based on their size, stability, and 'depth'. The last category was a reference to how much energy a ship's drive would have to expend in order to make the transition; the greater the depth, the easier it became to make the jump. They also made the drop from FTL to normal space easier on the other end. Given the distances involved in traveling between stars, no mater how close they might be, the accuracy of a pilot's astrogation borders on something resembling an extreme form of OCD. The smallest error can result in massive variations in the position from which a ship emerges out of FTL. Hitting a specific point in space from several light years away was no easy task, and good starship pilots were often the best paid members of a ship's crew.
Loci classes ranged from Alpha 3 and 2, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Omega; of these the Alpha 3 Locus was the most desirable, due to their size, easily predictable position, and extremely good depth. They were also regularly patrolled and monitored, had no natural hazards, and were not too far out from a system's primary star. Alpha 2 loci weren't much different except that they were not patrolled, but had remote monitoring satellites watching over them. An Alpha was free from natural hazards, but was unmonitored, nor was it patrolled regularly. The Alpha loci were the most commonly sought by privateers who didn't want their comings and goings too closely observed. Beta loci were listed as 'mostly safe', which generally meant that the likelihood of running into a natural hazard or the risk of piracy was low, but not nonexistent. They also often had less depth than Alphas, but some have been surveyed that are actually much deeper, and are closer to the primary of the solar systems in which they appear, making them ideal for smuggling. Betas are also less stable, potentially causing a massive drain on a ship's power reserves. Gamma loci were considered barely safe at all, and were classified as such due to significant natural hazards, piracy, or armed conflict; no pilot with any experience or an alternative would consider using a Gamma locus, except in a life or death emergency. An Omega locus was a totally different matter.
Any pilot knowingly transiting an Omega locus could count on having his license revoked, which made the generous assumption that the ship and crew survived. Omega transits were almost universally considered an exotic form of suicide at best. There was intense speculation as to how and why Omega loci were even charted; pilots tended to be a conservative bunch with regards to risk, however, and weren't likely to try to find out firsthand. Some people had suggested that systems were given a blanket Omega classification because there was something there that the UniSys Stellar Cartography Group did not want discovered. No one ever really paid much attention to the rumors of intelligent alien life, strange artifacts, UniSys or Corporate black sites, but the rumors persisted to the point where one had to admit that there might be something to them. There was a massive loophole in the classification system, however; a ship with a suitably powerful drive, like Cameron's own, didn't need to use a transit locus to make the transition to FTL. The Jester was so overpowered for its size that, when combined with his state of the art drive, he had no real need to use transit loci at all. Doing so was not recommended practice, and a crapshoot to be sure, but it could be done.
Cameron combed the fingers of his free hand through his graying brown hair, the other raised the thick-bottomed crystal tumbler of Terran scotch whiskey to his lips for a contemplative sip of the smoky flavored amber fluid, chilled to perfection by a pair of frozen stone spheres that would not melt or alter the flavor of the beverage.
He savored the scotch, both for its flavor, and its scarcity; the distillery which had produced it was located on an island west of the Scottish mainland on Earth, and it had been largely unaffected by The Devastation. It had been part of a case he'd bought on one of his rare trips through the Terran solar system. There was little reason for him to go to Earth; the large bulk carriers brought raw materials to the massive refueling stations around Jupiter, Mars orbit, or the Moon.
Earth sucked in raw materials and spat out colonists. Some of them were lucky enough to be able to afford a ticket to a specific world or station, although the latter normally only did so if they had a job lined up already. Other colonists took whatever passage they could get, and hoped for the best; most of the governments on Earth offered cut-rate transport to anyone who wanted to go. As long as you didn't mind the idea of ending up on a marginal world, you could travel for practically nothing. Some colonists weren't given any choice at all. Many governments made it a practice to ship out some of the more restless members of society. China was one of the biggest; they shipped out over half a million dissidents, deviants, petty criminals, and unemployed homeless people a year. They shipped out people whose only crime was to be on the wrong side of an argument with a government official, or someone with the political connections to make it happen. When the former United States of America split into its current three parts, the New Confederate States had possessed no qualms about using 'involuntary transportation' as a way to deal with its own dissenters.
Then there were the corporations, that for any number of reasons, had decided to set up new colonies on far flung worlds. Some of them had become stunning success stories; Minotaur was one such. The Darkaellan Imperium was founded by the multisolar HHI, and had comprised mostly Northern European secularists; whose highly ethnocentric makeup led to some raging accusations of racism. Resodyne Genetics had bought out ARA Corp, which had tried to colonize the Arae system far out on the edge of the populated sphere, nearly out in the mining systems, but something had gone catastrophically wrong and the whole effort had been abandoned. The Arae system's transit locus was listed as an Omega, but there was no actual prohibition on entering the system from beyond the 5 light hour limit. His ship's endurance would allow him to enter the system from well outside the star's gravity well, with a narrow margin to operate before they would have to turn around and come back.
He considered the file on his office terminal, displaying all of the information he had been able to track down on the system, and he couldn't understand why the decision had been made to abandon the colony. It was the footnotes of an appendix to the main document that had captured his attention; whatever had happened, had happened on the planet, but there was no mention of the colony ship in any of the insurance records. Resodyne had never made a claim of ownership on any vessel in her class when they acquired ARA Corp's assets, which meant that there was potentially a whole colony ship lost in that system somewhere with no owner in sight. The idea of an asset that huge just drifting along, free for the taking, made Cameron want to drool out of sheer avarice. All by itself, that ship was worth over 500 Million UniSys Credits, but if it was still loaded with colony equipment, that could easily double. It was the kind of payday that every salvage operator hoped for.
He still had a lot of questions about whether or not he should do what he was planning, but the answers could only be had by going and doing it. Once the ship reached Vulcanfall, he would either have to commit or back away; he would be in sorry shape financially if he did the latter, and likely bankrupt if the former didn't work out as hoped.
His light brown eyes stared unfocused at the terminal's screen as he leaned back in his office chair and brought up his glass to his lips to take another sip, but his thoughts ran through the possibilities and pitfalls that lay ahead once more, trying to find some certainty amidst the unknowns.
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