Greatness Lost Is Legend: A Voyage of Captain George Yakamura

By Patrick T. Kean and Roberta Skilling-Kea

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 13, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450066075

Patrick T. Kean

Pat T. Kean: Born in Nanaimo, BC, Canada. BA Business Administration/ Economics. BSc Nursing. Advanced studies in physics, chemistry and math. Served as Advisor to Ted Schellenberg, Member of Parliament from B.C. Canada. Served as Chairman of the Unemployment Insurance Commission, Board of Referees. Roberta Skilling-Kean: Born in Newark, New Jersey. PhD Nutrition, MA Education—Special Education, Montessori International – Teacher/Director, BA Psychology, Charitable projects in Central America.

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Dedicated to our Moms

FORWARD

Scholars have pondered about Atlantis for centuries. Nobody until Greatness Lost Is Legend provides a viable estimate of the location of Atlantis, in a riveting story with fascinating and intriguing plots. This story actually sticks to geology to explain how Atlantis sank in a day and a half. Greatness Lost not only brings readers a vivid account of Atlantis, the authors claim it was a Cro-Magnon civilization that was destroyed not by mythical means, but the age old battle between good and evil. A clash between a civilization of individual freedoms, and another lead by a tyrant. Ekalb, a physicist, married to the Chief Matriarch of Atlantis, fights to save the project, an artificial black hole based global broadcast power station, from sabotage. Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, Ekalb is sentenced to labor in Florida, 39,000 years ago, to capture Walking Eagles, giant carnivorous birds, a dozen feet tall—that prey on humans in the wild.

Mayan Legend is brought into the story within the scope of today’s events that are polarizing America, and destabilizing global relations. The year 2012 turns out not to be a physical end of the world, but consistent with Mayan Legend, the end of an era. American citizens throughout these trying times are brought into the story, and as before improve the human condition towards a more perfect union. Greatness Lost develops a delightful plot for patriotic Americans. This more perfect union leads to an era of untold wonder for citizens of the Star Republic that follows, an era of wonder started by chance. A commercial fisherman finds an artifact on the sea floor just north of Vancouver Island, British Columbia. Kal Dunbar is a man with dreams of a better world, an unlimited one. Through ruthless avoidance of international law, Dunbar introduces technologies posing critical economic challenge to the United States and the world beyond—technologies from

the 1960’s and 39,623 years ago.

It is AD 2254, Captain George Yakamura, on last minute instructions from Earth, is exploring why an advanced civilization in the Rohini Star system destroyed itself. After the crew of the Star Ship Kandango saves Star Republic personnel on Midworld, the captain, and many crew-members begin to notice haziness about historical details. Did President Kennedy die by assassin’s bullet in 1963, or of natural causes in 1987. Suddenly, a security alert comes from Earth. A Star Republic ship investigating a nearby vortex has stopped reporting. Psychological neurosis increases, Bryant, Kandango’s first officer sees himself aboard another star ship, one not powered by black hole induced Alcuberrie effect but instead by massive energy that is used to warp space itself.

Horrible memories stream into his mind, a nuclear blast destroying Portland, Oregon, a terrible sub-atomic weapon strafing homes in Saudi Arabia. Fighting fogginess, the captain orders Kandango to intercept the Vortex.

The ship returns from its interstellar voyage of the ages with Ekalb’s story of Atlantis—how he survived a catastrophic disaster that destroyed Earth’s first advanced civilization, destroying two species of human in the process. Evidence surfaces that crewman Dunbar, son of the Republic’s richest citizen, was placed aboard Kandango under instruction from Ekalb 390 centuries before! Mysterious changes in American history at a critical time in late 2012 triggered a sudden revolutionary turn-back to a form of Limited Government, promoted by Madison and Jefferson. Universal democratic franchise one person, one vote, modified by a test of personal responsibility which prevented progressive efforts to end America’s republican form of government.

Progressive followers in the Republic begin to plot insurrection.

Greatness Lost Is Legend offers plausible explanation of many science fiction technologies: The Star Trek Phaser, magnetic propulsion, why a tractor beam only works in vacuum, and a replicator that works like a copy machine using combination of fat, protein, and carbohydrates.

Most of all Greatness Lost offers answers for our time. Is mankind’s future to be determined by collectivist economics, a condition of rule of man, or Constitutional protection of liberties bestowed upon humanity by God? This battle has been ongoing since soon after the United States of America was founded with a decision by the US Supreme Court: Federal powers form the supreme laws of the land, Gibbons V Ogden in 1824. History informs readers every collectivist system attempted by man has always been wrecked on the shoals of human failings and corruption. At the time of publishing, new powers granted to the Federal Government by Congress, not by Constitutional Amendment, may have tilted America’s delicate balance from rights bestowed by God, to rights held and controlled by government. Human nature has not changed in 40,000 years, only a strong constitution can keep it at bay. Major protection for American citizens from government power has been removed. Where will it take us?

Gene Roddenberry created a fictional universe, hope for a glorious future where a Federation under principles of American liberty and individual rights had spread out on over one hundred worlds. In subsequent offerings Star Trek evolved to a point where Jean Luc Pickard claimed in glorious Politically Correct terms: We don’t use money, we don’t work for personal gain, we work only to enrich our experiences. Who would work in such a society? Who would invent, strive, or innovate? One only has to look at the former Soviet Union, or North Korea, to observe the kind of society this belief system creates. Greatness Lost returns to interstellar adventure based on ideals expressed by the founding fathers of America as expressed in the Federalist Papers.

All this comes together in an adventure of the past, present, and future. For more information about this book, and Volume Two, log on to www. Xlibris.com, or Greatnesslostislegend.com

CHAPTER 1

A Voyage of Captain Yakamura

Hint of legend.

A soft thump interrupted the steady hum-throb of Kandango’s engineering works, a second, third time, pestering Sir George Yakamura into awareness. Dead tired after Cirspus—like a seamen of old, lack of sleep, edginess, let even a tiny unusual sound annoy him awake. Rolling onto his side, George opened his eyes, let out a hiss of air and noted it was only 0412. Twenty minutes early.

Damn, he swore, knowing too well attempting to go back to sleep was useless. Groaning, working back muscles side to side, grimacing a bit to sounds of pops and cracks from various vertebrae. Finally with a quick neck crack, he swung around to lie on his other side.

Kandango’s design emphasized military thinking. Kandango had little ‘soft power’ amenities for visiting diplomats or Fleet politicians. Much more massive than Essex, Kandango dwarfed it, by billions of tons. The ship was eight kilometers long, over three across, constructed mostly of nickel-iron. It massed sixteen billion tons, fabricated straight from an asteroid. So much metal conducted noise like crazy. Often George would bury an ear to his bunk listening to activities outside, dropping objects, crew walking by or their muffled talk. He shook nervously, his ear drooped, twitching to sounds of a cleaning robot whirring by.

Time to get moving, he whispered, getting up, almost tripping over a non-existent something as he headed to the bathroom. Glancing in his mirror frowning he exposed his teeth.

Getting craggy as Tommy, he complained, thinking of an old chase movie about a man not guilty of killing his wife. With a head shake, he reached into a drawer, grabbing a can of ‘shaving cream,’ smearing it onto his face, squirted tooth cleaner into his mouth, and side-stepped into the shower closing the door.

Chirrp! The cabin speakers sang.

George leaned out of the enclosure, tickling from rapid moving nano bots on his face and teeth.

"Captain, watch Officer Karrod here, we’re approaching Rohini Oort cloud dropping out of high C resonance in 20 minutes."

Tell me what I need to know, George started to grumble, his face softening quickly remembering he asked to be warned. Dripping he waited for the shoe to drop.

Lots of pure water ice with trace minerals causing our radar, and grav detection to bounce around, fogging imaging, Sodi reported. George rolled his eyes up, stepped back into the shower, spat out the tooth cleaner pushing his head under. Relishing the water flow, he considered tidbits about the system ahead from memory. The system had worlds with life, six planets, and three moons. One world had an advanced civilization just on the edge of faster than light technology. Another similar to Earth around 1880. A third dominated by an aggressive fifth century type empire.

Mid-World was most unique, he remembered. A fleet ship crashed on it about thirty years ago. It was a place where life ran amok. Flying wolves ruled is sky, bacterium the size of a man’s thumb, the floor it’s planet wide jungles.

Walking across his cabin toweling himself he pressed a com button set into his desk. Sodi, any artificial objects or ships detected? he asked pensively.

"None so far," Karrod said, sounding a bit put off due to George ignoring his report.

"Acknowledge, he said, briefly observing the man’s demeanor, good work," George added, smoothing feathers.

Glancing at the puddle at his feet he towel dried on the fly, his face showing concern about the lack of detection of EM signals and space craft, he hit the button again.

Science,

Aavac Richard had been watching Sodi talk to her captain, a soft squeaking whistle signaling her Gaulic impatience and like usual, she was brief.

Just circle the system, drop probes, go home, she offered. George nodded but he knew his orders, letting out a loud sigh. His first throught was of how many systems he had visited where a civilization had wiped itself out. Gritting his teeth, imagining smashed cities and ten square kilometer wide swaths of destruction in his mind.

We have our orders, he ordered, giving Aavac the look.

Tactical report? she asked politely raising her head leveling her steel blue eyes at him.

Rohini prime, the system’s most advanced civilization, Niihu, has several dozen interplanetary capable ships, some able to reach speeds of 1000 kilometers per second using magnetic cannon, Aavac offered, glancing at the survey one more time.

Nothing along those specs so far, she said, with a deep metallic tone indicated her disappointment.

Bam! George staggered, a tremendous thunder echoed through Kandango’s 40 meter thick stainless hull. Damn, he swore under his breath.

Sorry. The ice, Sodi chimed in.

George knew from reports a huge volume of those pesky ice bodies swarmed throughout the area which meant deflecting a few. Even here trace elements in the ‘bergs’ still played games with detection. He gave Sodi a thumbs up, just as a soft bump marked a small piece pushed aside by the screens.

It’s going to be rough, George thought, slow down.

"Reduce to quarter C, set auto damping to tenth gravity maximum internal force on crewed areas, auto evasive. He stopped speaking, furrowing his brow, computer, time to transit high to the system’s Oort at speed indicated?" he asked, not too happy about the extra time involved.

Twenty one hours, ship time the machine answered.

"Dense cloud," George muttered, stepping into his annex to choose his clothing. Rohini, he thought, named after someone’s loved one from name a star dot com—little did the purchaser know it was a micro universe unto its own.

The Captain’s foggy mind nagged, something else, he thought. Computer,

Computer here,

Files related to Rohini system, historical, he said adjusting his shirt with one arm on the table to avoid another bump in the road.

Six, the machine replied.

Name, he asked, pulling on his pants stumbling to another blow.

"Bejing mapped the system, Earth date 2186.25, USR Constitution visual flyby of Niihu inhabitants date 2186.88, Privateer Placitas lost Earth year 2038,"

Computer stop, George ordered. Of course the Placitas, Lincoln class ship, deployed from 2019 to 2048. 7300 to 7550 metric tons, America’s first large coil magnetic drive ships in response to Chinese Russian collaboration using modified inner Typhoon Submarine hulls and upgraded reactors. Maximum speed one-way 0.03 C. Asteroid strike, took out a critical component. Placitas swept past Mars and was not recovered until the USS Mercury intercepted it June 29th 2039. Its remaining crew survived for five and a half years.

Awful, he thought, swallowing due to a fleeting feeling of sickness at the thought of dozens living in such cramped space resorting to lots to eliminate enough of their number to stretch out consumable supplies.

Continue,

The computer started a history lesson: "War between the US and Islamo Neo-communist Eastern Alliance nations took out half of the Lincoln class ships, and six out of the larger Mercury class," it stated.

Stop, George ordered, I don’t have time he thought. Enough for now, please chute in a new working uniform, he asked, not happy with the size of his pants.

A new captain’s uniform thumped softly into his laundry insert, as he grabbed a short red tunic, he thought of something else.

Computer, indulge my curiosity, the person who named Rohini?

Terence Kain, however many details lost due to WWIII, the name could be misspelled it replied.

The meaning of that war made George flinch, one point two billion dead, or was it nine hundred million, strange he couldn’t remember the exact number. Most of the deaths occurred in Islamic countries, and parts of Europe. It was started by nuclear attack by truck. . . . he shuddered, remembering Bejing China suffered the highest death toll. The Islamo’s had thought hitting the Chinese would trigger a fatal exchange between them and the United States. Instead a terrible slaughter ensued across the middle east, using a secret ‘star wars’ radiological decay weapon that killed nearly all in several Muslim countries, by ionizing radiation in 38 hours.

His memory was uncharacteristically fuzzy. Rohini was also the wife of an inventor who founded his fortune on mining He-3 and precious metals from the moon’s craters. From there the man invested in scientific research that led to the discovery of gravitational effect of anti matter—matter annihilation used to alter or focus gravity at any point proximal to a ship. It was the fore runner of Kain-ran’s superluminal drive breakthrough. These ships were used to build the first major Mars base in a joint venture with the government of the United States.

Kal pronounced Kaal died on Mars Christmas day 2046, George swallowed, thinking of this single author, Terence, or did he go by another name? Still George felt oddly, couldn’t remember the last name. If that man never appeared, no Republic. The captain’s eyes darted down, as usual after a morning shower his stomach was growling.

"Computer coffee, black, triple shot, French Toast peaches, three eggs scrambled, he ordered to an insert in the wall. He grinned, for a split second, No faked coffee," emphasized, loudly, his way of ordering caffeinated. George was chomping down the last of his toast when the computer chimed in:

Rohini Oort, first of six maximum density encounters, ten minutes, recommend further reduction of speed by 0.05C. Estimate overall Oort mass at sixty-two times Sol system, it said.

Nice, George muttered, he flipped to the next report on a video display embedded in his desk, frowning, realizing this much crap in open space this far from the star was more than an inconvenience. Kandango would smash most ‘bergs’ without much adieu but the ride was extremely rough. George hated the delay, but safety concerns took priority, he pressed a new type of communicator button on his lapel.

"Bryant drop by 0.05 C plot course to the inner system keeping major planets in the way of Niihu Prime," he ordered, reluctantly with thoughts of home stressing his near empty emotional reserve.

"Can do, anything else Captain?" the man said happily, often too much so for his liking under the circumstances.

No, but I’m going though engineering before I come to the bridge, the captain replied, still feeling a bit sleepy shutting Bryant out.

George called up the report on Rohini’s primary, Niihu, its continued silence making him uneasy all over again. Niihuian civilization had stood a moderate chance of progressing. A statement, no major conflicts are anticipated stuck in his mind. Why no heads up George thought. Exo biologists and anthropologists, psychologists, all were involved in the report in front of him, all missed! Mistakes have happened before, he mumbled, trying to dismiss the negative. He glanced at his wrist watch, sighed jerking his jacket off the chair back.

"Better get going." George said, whispering to himself, gulping the last of his coffee starting for the door, anticipating, the computer cut him short.

"Captain, your massage appointment is 1400 hours," it said.

Acknowledge, he hesitated, as he chose between a staff member and a six armed robot. Nice, he thought, checking his reflection on the wall mirror one more time before leaving his cabin. The ‘subway tube was empty, as was Kandango’s 2.7 kilometer dynamic environment, that was set on African savannah this week. It took five minutes to cross what Essex Doc McMaster called, ‘a foolish waste of resouces’. Twenty times the volume of Essex, Kandango could ferry 26,000 paying stellar immigrants, the most common customer, plus crew. Kandango carried mostly military personnel on the current mission. The ship could alter its inner environment to match the destination it was ferrying immigrants to. This took gobs of energy, but everything from her resonance core to thermo-nuclear generators was at least two hundred times more powerful than anything flown before. This also meant Kandango had less room for crew members than outward appearance would indicate. When George took command, his ship was up weaponed, after the warp drive debacle, to take on the Beserker Empire.

The doors to engineering parted, instantly Schuje an Uulcan engineer, paced to his captain.

"You left a message," he said coolly.

"Yes captain, personally, I want you to know my wedding date schedule is starting to press. I have to go home soon, however this is not why I requested you here in person," the man stated, pausing to take in a slow deep breath, a way of making sure he had his Captain’s full attention. The Uulcan’s eyes met George’s whose widened in return,

"The encounter at Crispus caused considerable damage internally and to the hull plates. We used replenishing from our ship’s bulkheads and structural members. I have reduced our top speed rating from 4.7k gravities acceleration to 3.6k and 16th power absolute maneuvering. We need extra heavy element mass, two thirds of which, titanium, and we are nearing critical low mass of Helium three for the thermo reactors. I request a stop to mine an applicable body for these needs. According to the report on this system there is an asteroid belt with high percentage of heavy metals about 1.4 AU from the central star. I request a pass before moving on with survey of the Rohini Prime planet," the man’s sermon stopped suddenly, to observe whether the captain had taken it all in.

How low is our He-3? George asked getting to the real point. He knew the engineer liked lots of fuel for the reactors in case they encountered a fire fight, or trouble. However the system they were going to, a fire-fight involving weapons more powerful than nuclear was unlikely.

"We can power the ship for six months, but you know I like to keep at least two years on tap. You never know," Schuje said, pressing and suggesting in his experienced way.

I’ll allow time for one hundred thousand tons He, George offered.

Two no less, the engineer replied using a poker face.

George nodded allowing him that point, he knew the man would probably squeeze more in. Heavy metals? he asked, knowing this need would require more time, steeling himself for a huge figure.

"Two maybe three days, heavy metals are critical, right now a single Uulcan Confederation torpedo could crack some bulkheads even with our shields fully deployed." Schuje replied, accurate as usual.

Schuje was a good engineer and had a knack for anticipating problems. George knew two or three days, it wasn’t too much to ask. I’ll give him most of that he concluded.

The first thing we do after we get though that Oort cloud he said, glancing at a work station covered with oily metal pump parts. His eyes darted in their direction, then off into the massive spaces beyond.

You forgot to nail everything down, George joked, with a quick smile.

Thank you sir, the Uulcan replied, satisfied he had got what he wanted.

George turned to walk back to the lift. Suddenly he felt slightly off balance, before he could take another step. Wham! Everything lurched, smacking him hard against a wall. What the hell, he cried out, before he could balance the ship lurched again.

Bridge what the bull crap was that, he shouted, into his badge, rubbing his shoulder.

A huge mountain, we needed an evasive to avoid it, Sodi replied with an angry voice.

How big George flung back, pissed.

"28 klicks wide plus a bit, Sodi replied, excited, it had six partners, up to half a klick wide each, moving with it. We were only 8400 kilometers from impact when the computer picked it up." He could easily hear Sodi’s worried breathing on the other end.

Do your best, George said evenly, stepping onto the lift. He planned to go to the galley, changing his mind. Bridge. The lift slid up four decks slipping into the dynamic environment. From there it connected to the main ship wide system called ‘the tube’. George looked out, the area was surprisingly intact, Schuje had pumped its water out earlier. The lift circled the environment in less than a minute then shifted into a shaft moving ‘up’ twenty decks to the bridge.

Sodi was seated in the center seat. Twisting around with nervous energy the East Indian almost jumped out of the chair as he spotted him. First Officer Bryant Martian was no where to be seen, eight other crew were on station.

"Where’s Bryant?" he asked, wondering why his number one was missing when the ship was going through these maneuvers.

Aavac’s scratchy post virus voice cut in.

"Bryant is helping Communications Officer Rind amplify the main deflector, and program more computing to micro gravity detection," she reported, with a cough wiping her nose.

The athletic French-woman paced across the deck bringing her face even with Yakamura’s handing an info pad to him.

They plan to send out stronger resonace signals, she added, chirping quietly.

Ever the hands on guy, George quipped. He quickly grasped a few trillionths of a second extra lead time would make the ride smoother. To the task at hand, he thought, taking a fatigued breath looking around the bridge. There were still places where the finish had been blackened by the Beserker’s frigate class Destroyer four days ago. His eyes darted about spying several finishing robots. Sniffing, he caught the smell of paint. Lets see how sharp ‘Aavac is today he thought.

"Science updates of the target system?" he ordered, gazing at the bridge reflection in Aavac’s eyes.

Yes and no sir, she sang, less raspy than before, smoothing her long hair that had been tangled to the chair’s cloth. George felt a chill run up his legs, as he watched the small of her back while she walked with waving motions to the Science station.

"What do you mean?" George verbally sparred, allowing a cheeky smile.

Aavac’s steel eyes took on a slight bluish glow, her way of replying to his verbal challenge. He still wasn’t sure how to handle this, she was his first French-Chelleran. She had come aboard after the encounter with the rogue Beserker, Karkalov. Aavac tapped some keys on her station’s board sending text to him.

"No Niihuian ships detected, long range scans of Niihu found average emission of three billion Becquerel’s gamma and beta radiation per hour. Atmosphere shows 202 percent increase of Co2, 130, nitrogen oxide, 120, Ozone, almost total cloud cover."

"Nuclear war," George said, cutting her off, disgust in his demeanor. How many civilizations get to a point of greatness only to snuff out or take a century to struggle back as we did he thought feeling somewhat superior . . .

"Not wholly nuclear, Aavac interjected, holding her palm up and clicking tongue to cheek. Some matter anti-matter blasts, a few perfect vacuum neutron devices. We are too far away to detect bio or chemical warfare yet. I’ve detected intermittent EM signatures from other habitable worlds in the system, she reported, ticking facts off like clockwork, stressing something she had left for last. I’ve found evidence of a small Earth Republic colony on a large moon called Midworld." She announced blushing with reddish hue.

George pursed his lips, squeezed his jaw muscles to cover his disappointment. Aavac started to rasp deep in her throat, a sign of negativity. She so wanted to meet an intelligent insect species on her first science mission aboard a United Star Republic ship.

Recommendation, was all he could say for the moment.

Nothing to stop us from using standard approach to Niihu, Aavac replied keeping one eye in the view-piece another on George, "I recommend maximum resonance once we are within the inner system to avoid stealth type sat weapons," she replied using an increasingly excited high pitched voice.

George wasn’t totally convinced his face showed it. Aavac stiffened a bit understanding she needed to push her point a bit more.

"Sir, I estimate devices no more than a hundredth the yield of a Beserker or Confederation torpedo. Niihuians just used chemical rockets to reach space. Their pre-resonance mag drive ships mass no more than 14,200 tons." She reported, extending her long muscular arms grabbing an electrical conduit on the bridge ceiling as she made the point.

"My brief said they had a top speed of about 0.11 C," Sodi interjected.

Not bad for such a small ship, George mused, feeling a little ganged up on.

90 megaton plus anti-matter weapons, Aavac added freezing in place watching Yakamura think.

Confederation torpedo’s weigh six tons have up to 2 kilo’s of anti-matter in the warhead using their best containment technology. Niihuians appeared to have constrained 0.08 or 0.09 grams George thought. "90 plus megatons," nodding repeating the figure, no more than a mild lurch, he whispered, without too much concern, scratching his nose watching Aavac’s intense eyes studying him. Sniffing, grimacing slightly George felt considerable dread at the idea of entering this system like a police officer. They were going into a home to investigate a murder, a domestic dispute. They could encounter deadly surprises at any time.

"Let’s get this done, the sooner we finish this survey the sooner we get home." George ordered, remembering the engineer’s request just as Bryant stepped onto the bridge. The man’s broad toothy grin somehow was infectious.

I was waiting for you to show up, Yakamura sparred, as the man shook him by the shoulder. Bryant leaned close to report effort to upgrade the deflector was successful. George nodded with feigned malice and a lowered voice, quickly hammered the man,

"Bryant, we need one hundred thousand tons of Helium three, and the standard number of heavy element mix. When you detect the appropriate asteroids fit a replenishing pass into our schedule. The engineer gives this A list priority," he groused, acting put—off.

The engineer sir, Bryant replied, in a deliberate doubtful voice, playing his part.

Shaking her head Aavac faced them her breasts almost falling out. George flinched. The act still put him off and several on the bridge as well. Behavior at odds with to what most believed was a conservative almost Victorian aspect of her culture. She pointed at a pad holding her request.

"We need 100 percent forward shield strength as we drop out of resonance. Weapons left over from the conflict could lock in on us before we can respond," she warned. Kandango lurched slightly again, an increasing tempo, as it encountered the main part of the Oort cloud. The screen display of stars began to swing dizzily as the ship’s auto navigation avoided one object after another.

One crewman staring at it too long, gulped, and ran for the bathroom behind the two lifts setting off a flurry of comments in passing.

Screen tactical display only, George ordered, starting to feel a bit off as well. He also watched the whirling image too long before it changed.

Anything new pass it to the Galley, George ordered, wearily standing up physically showing it had been a bad week. He nodded at Bryant to take command and stepped onto the lift its doors instantly closing him off. Leaning against the side letting out a puff of air, George’s mind wandered to his tour of duty on Essex. An image of his mentor Captain Thompson ordering the ship home for de-commissioning haunted him. Not since he left home for the first time had his persona been assaulted by a sense of loss to this extent. It was affecting him more than he cared to allow.

I was only eighteen when he joined Fleet, maybe that was too young, Essex only had taken on where my family left off, he thought. He had made few close friends on Kandango’s three year mission. The crew was top notch but it was not the same. Yakamura shook his head, pumped his fists a couple of times, he needed a distraction while the ship worked its way through the cloud. Suddenly his face lightened hopefully.

Gym, he ordered the lift, punching a com button set into the wall.

Commander Grace Woosley, report to the captain please, he asked ship wide.

Grace a weapon’s expert loved fencing, as did he. A half hour or more of it would lift his mood, although the younger woman was able to whupp him more often than not.

Grace here captain, the woman with a southern US accent replied.

I know you are working on, George burped as he fought to remember what exactly that was as the lift stopped with a soft clunk. It opened to the shuttle zone in the aft section of Kandango’s huge bay, jolting his memory. Anti-matter storm, he said out loud hoping he had correctly named it.

Just about finished sir, she replied, proudly.

Got time for a bout?

How about a run around the park, Grace shot back, pointing a ‘forested’ area that led upward just behind her. George wondered for a second if he could still make the 8 kilometer run without looking too old, or tripping up when the ship lurched. She always challenged him in unique ways.

CHAPTER 2

Rohini System

Kandango’s tortured path required twenty five hours before she could slip into the inner system. Just about everyone was snippy due to constant small lurches and dizzying circling motions that even made veterans fall ill. The ship’s Hospital Network Chief Physician, Dr Slocam resorted to keeping lots of anti-motion sickness skin patches on his person, slapping them on without asking. Without warning the ship fell still, George who had sequestered himself with a masseur in a small annex by auxiliary control looked up.

The masseur let out a huge breath of air, about time, she commented, with relief standing to the side to allow George to stand.

Reaching for a towel wrapping it around him, he shuffled walked to his uniform, tapped its Fleet emblem. It just made a crinkling sound, scowling, he still was not used to the new device, Bridge, he asked, tentatively.

Bryant here captain, he answered.

Status, George asked just as the resonance engines started to increase in tempo.

Eight hundred gravities to asteroid, Bryant replied.

Uh ha, he growled, your plans for Niihu?

Oh, Bryant yawned while collecting himself, he had stayed up late studying the system, "For Niihu, standard orbit approach, place its largest moon between Kandango and the planet, full Weapons, Deflector and Shields applied soon as drop out," he reported, calmly.

Aavac’s voice vibrated in the background talking to Grace about her new weapon. The young expert often clashed with the Chelleran about strategy and the need to balance scientific concerns with military. George often overheard the two argue since Crispus. Far as he could tell it didn’t cause personal friction between the two but he kept a close eye on it. Chelleran colonists were very strong, a result of their higher gravity planet. A blow they considered minor could break a person’s arm. A soft cricket like sound permeated over the background speakers. She often used that soundtrack to calm herself. It was interrupted by Grace’s firm voice.

"I will ask the captain to bring the modified coil guns on line, anti-matter ammo load with only 4.5 gig watts of pulse power," she stated sounding like a lawyer.

Going for the light show George grinned at the thought, out with the old in with the new. Back to the old on steroids, what did Grace say, we would be able to hammer at an opponent with thousands of 1/millionth gram sized anti-matter rounds, at short-range every second. A take off of the US military’s metal storm that became so effective for its early urban warfare robots. Each round channeled via conduit from the main anti-matter storage vessels into an arrangement of thousands of particles that streamed milliseconds apart as a storm of micro projectiles moving at hundreds of kilometers per second.

Hell of a junk buster, Yakamura interjected, stopping the argument between the two. Over the last few days the two’s constant sniping was starting to give him a headache.

Could have used it a couple of hours ago, Bryant stepped in as well.

Aavac pumped her legs at her seat as she always did when unsure. Grace was a brilliant, inspired pilot, and weapons expert, who tended to over engineer to avoid mistakes. In her world debate often was a waste of time. She preferred to test until it broke, upgrade depending on the information, test again until it worked to perfection.

"Sir, may I suggest? She asked.

George sighed, still feeling drained physically from yesterday’s two turns around the inner park. He nodded and tried to look fully engaged, but let his thoughts about Bryant’s strategy echo while listening to the conversation.

Suggest we take a turn at a small asteroid in an L-point opposite of Niihu’s largest moon and fire rounds to check the new weapon, Aavac suggested, pointing to a picture of its location on the main screen. That way it will be ready for some serious junk busting," she added, to George’s tapping fingers on the side of the massage table.

"Good idea," Grace agreed, jumping in out of turn.

Bryant moved over to Tactical taking up a seat just behind its officer, Stang, Kandango’s best Nav officer, another Uulcan. The man had lightening fast reactions, cucumber coolness under fire. He also often locked horns with people he did not agree with. Stang jumped in by clearing his throat loudly.

"Tracking from New Delhi shows four Niihuian ships intercepted as she slowed, using asteroids as cover. She was hit by two thermo weapons before raising shields. Limited damage, but the impacts threw the crew around severely injuring five," Stang reported, gazing around the bridge before setting eyes back on his personal display.

"I concur, Bryant replied, coolly.

Grace jumped in with a final request.

"Sir, I request more personnel be trained on the new weapon, I have a list of recent transfers, some from the Bangor after Crispus left us short," she said, enthusiastically.

George looked down at his personal screen pursed his lips tapped a few keys, looked up, I’ll give you two ensigns from your list, but for now lets remain on task, he said, waving at the masseuse as he left for other assignments, catching Bryant on his shirt’s fabric screen.

On the bridge Bryant stepped over to the center chair. Pulled a small info pad out, hit a few keys, scrolled around furrowing his brow a couple of times, stopped.

Here captain, Bryant said, pointing to a face and name on the screen, Ensign Karl Dunbar, he quipped, scrolling the text beside the ensign’s face. Good record always does his duty, and then some. I think it’s time he pulled a little weapons duty, he paused to look over several physical abilities. Strong, tests show he is almost as quick thinking as Stang, a good fit sir, Bryant said, eyeing George over the little screen.

Captain to Karl Dunbar, George asked over the com link.

Karl’s demeanor betrayed annoyance as Yakamura’s distant voice barged in from the bridge. Shoving a box back into his cabin locker sighing. Dad insisted, he remembered. Dad kept bringing it up, the boxes of things, those ancient electronics. Duties on Kandango never gave him time to fiddle with them he was kept so busy, in this case, just as he was getting something out of the old CD based disk.

Damn, he swore without thinking, then to top it off.

Can it wait for a few minutes sir, I’m in the middle of something, he blurted, cat getting his tongue, he knew the instant he said it, he would get it.

George immediately applied his famous dressing down: "You have a problem with orders Mister?" he blasted, angry and pointed.

"No sir, Kal jolting erect pressing his lapel com, Ensign Kal Dunbar to the bridge," he stumbled correcting himself.

George dwelled on the Ensign for a moment. Why had he accepted the old man’s insistence the boy had to be a member of his crew, a draftee, and only 17. He was a bit of a wild man, according to his record-check. His attention shifted to Kandango’s engine vibration picking up, straining, he followed it for a few seconds until satisfied of the ride.

Boosting grav effect by using a gas giant’s deep gravity well Kandango reached the limit of 3 dimensional Space surrounded by a bright halo of sub atomic particles.

"Sixty eight seconds ship time," a navigator, Frank Webb said, turning briefly eyeing Stang breathing over his shoulder. Planetary approach twenty six minutes after that, he announced, loudly.

"Acknowledge, Yakamura replied, engineering go to max shields soon as we drop out," he ordered, to augment defense against possible traps.

Acknowledge. The distant reply came, sounding hesitant, Schuje made a slight throat clear. "Sir we have a small imbalance due to water ice buildup around the port nacelle 2’s coolant port, we cannot fix it until we enter standard orbit. Until then, max speed is grav 1.656K," the engineer said.

Ice, George thought, "Why can’t we ever avoid simple water ice? He demanded.

The Uulcan didn’t make excuses, but was long on explaining things. "Pure water in micro-gram amounts acts like freezing rain, as it hit our bow shock it vaporizes, most of this is deflected. A slight flaw in Kandango’s shields allows some to find its way into our vents, there it instantly freezes," the man reported.

Yakamura cleared his throat signaling he had enough, he was just about to order it not to happen again when.

Chirrp,

George’s eyes rolled towards the speaker nearby. "Engineering, a slight build up around the Starboard nacelle 3’s cooling port, recommend clean out soon as possible." A distant voice said. A couple of crew eyed him from the systems consoles set behind the center seat that displayed all Kandango’s works on its large screen set on the back wall between the two bridge lifts.

Great, George replied, a little miffed, hitting the com button with an angry soft whump.

"Engineer, get your staff together, we slip into geosync orbit in 23 minutes, I want this fixed two minutes later," he barked, knowing the intake system well. George had fought resonance imbalances for years. Ice build up was a dirty little detail that could kill a star ship. He decided not to chide Schuje by reason the ship was still a little below snuff due to hits by Beserker weapons four days earlier.

"We’ll be ready, engineering out," the Uulcan replied, without any change in the tone of his voice.

Messy system, George mused, casting a quick eye at his first officer who offered a crooked little guilty smirk in return as he stepped over to the weapons station.

An overlay of the entire system if you please, George asked, looking at Stang.

"Three stars, 16 gas giants, 92 rocky planets over 2,000 km wide, 400 plus proto-planets and moons over 200 km wide, sixteen major asteroid belts." The man paused still searching in his mind for the right human terms.

"Full of crap," the navigator tried to joke, coming up flat.

"Three independent civilizations to boot," the captain interjected with a knowing grin, leaning back in his chair. He concentrated on the tactical display of his personal screen, suddenly he was aware of a small tickling feeling from behind his left ear. He jumped slightly noting the science officer had crept up on him.

"One uses sailing ships," Aavac chimed, taking advantage of the lull.

"Similar to Polynesian outrigger design, Yakamura added, I do my homework too," he joked, smiling. Aavac clicked like a dolphin twisted around slinked back to her station.

Kandango cut her way to Rohini prime, encountering nothing dangerous. Routine took over. All bridge personnel focused on their jobs, a click of a key here, shuffle of foot there. George started to relax, just then the bridge doors parted, a short stocky young boyish person entered. He stopped, gazing around the bridge for a few long seconds, his eyes nervously finding Yakamura. He walked over surprisingly appearing very confident.

"Ensign Karl Dunbar reporting for duty sir," the man blurted, his body language steady but voice quivering.

George raised his eye brows, the man looked so young. He quickly caught himself while a recess of memory found something else familiar about the man.

"What part of report now did you miss," George barked, remembering how he felt the first time Essex captain Thompson berated him for tardiness. He let the man stew for a few seconds.

How old are you, he said, a little softer noticing Bryant turning around to observe the reaction.

Twenty, sir, Dunbar replied in a loud baritone voice.

Old enough to vote, the age one knows it all, bold and feeling oats enough to be tardy, George harranged, shaking his head, making a ticking sound with his tongue, as the young man stood at ease.

I was drafted to fleet at 18, he was 17 Yakamura thought. Remembering the young man’s family connections, how the hell had that slipped by, he wondered. Had the old man fibbed about Dunbar’s background? For the moment filing that line of thinking, he weighed whether the man’s sterling record outweighed the sin of the father.

"I’ll be twenty-one next month," Karl interrupted, anticipating why his captain looked annoyed and distant.

George let out a little air holding the possible nepotism against the ensign. He glared at the man trying to intimidate him into exposing the reason he had delayed below. Instead the young man remained still, clearly nervous, but also sure of himself, most annoyingly not snapping to with a response.

I had critical software I could not just shut down, Dunbar stammered.

What! George barked harshly, affronted by the attitude.

Two hundred year old stuff, the ensign explained, the software is fragile I didn’t want to lose it, Dunbar’s argumentative body posture firmed up even more.

Your record points out how diligent and eager you are, George said, to break the impasse, his point made.

Yes sir, Dunbar replied, in a firmer voice, his eyes alert moving between him and the science officer who he had only met three minutes ago.

Assume your station, George ordered, pointing over to Tactical.

Sir? Karl replied, not sure why Yakamura was doing that.

Report to Tactical ensign, George repeated a little louder smiling a bit at the man’s obvious surprise. Karl Dunbar nodded folded his hands behind him, lowered his eyes submissively at other personnel as he passed.

Sorry, he blurted out, hesitated, thank you sir, he stammered. George watched him pass each crewman with an affixed smile pasted on his face. Wordlessly he made it to his new station. George watched how Grace responded to her new charge.

The American stood stone faced, ordered Karl to take the seat, without warning she pointed to a small fuzzy image on the screen.

Quick question, Grace snapped. Dunbar quickly glanced over at Yakamura instantly taking it as a test.

"What is this Superluminal signature? Grace asked, putting on the heavy act for a few seconds while Karl correctly identified the test image before him.

How do you tell where a ship comes from if you don’t have a SL, or impulse exhaust signature to go by, Grace asked. She leaned close letting him see her exposed chest to distract him.

Karl gave a rat a tat answer.

"Ships vent atmosphere, each species has a unique ratio of oxygen and other gasses, plus elements. As the ship passes through sub space vented atoms are flung out of the resonance field and quickly drop velocity in normal space. As they do, high relativistic speed tears the atoms apart. We pick up the electromagnetic signals and radiation emissions from the residue. Kandango like all USR ships has a library of a huge number of intelligent species and ship types. The volume and signature of the trail is usually enough to ID the species and the ship," Karl replied looking up at her than her breasts. Grace scowled back.

"And I will take three toppings on my Pizza, cheese, tomato and onion," Bryant butted in, giving the man a break from Grace’s hard introduction.

"What?" Karl shot back. Having grown up in India he was still not too familiar with pizza.

Stang smiled a bit. Shocked Karl’s eyes dwelled on him for a few seconds. Weird for an Uulcan to do that, he thought, thinking of the society he came from.

Bryant stepped in close to Karl, "Look kid, do a good job and we have lots of laughs and brag about it in the pub up forward. Not and Aavac over there is known to make you polish her shoes," he warned, sounding serious enough to raise doubt in the young man’s eyes. Karl stiffened for a couple of seconds before realizing he was being played.

Black shoe polish, Karl joked, a little too soon.

Lets not take this humor thing too far until after you know everything about Tactical, Bryant snapped, using his best commanding voice.

"With your eyes closed!" he emphasized, deadly serious.

Yes sir, Karl stammered defensively, returning to his place.

Kandango passed through artifical blackhole induced warped space, its view screen digitizing a processed image that gave a false impression that space was just a field of passing stars with little between them. Reality was totally different. For example, at times the ship passed through, or by a large mass in real space, gravity well of it impacting the balance of the artificial singularities around and pulling at a star ship. Over short distances, without correction, trajectory could be pulled off several thousand meters per light hour of travel if a ship passed near or God forbid through a mass equal to or greater than it. A good navigator would adjust so quickly crew onboard would barely notice the bump in the road, so to speak. A new navigator learning the ropes could make a normal trip feel like the patched road along the Kaupo on Maui.

A fault of magnified processing was moving stars making them appear overlaid on the real planet during approach, creating a confused scene. Karl’s first mistake, which George started to chide him for, Dunbar corrected, by removing the stars on the main screen from the Tactical station.

He’s quick alright, Bryant quipped noticing Karl had started to change it back as quickly as Grace was jumping on him.

I’m a patient man, George thought shaking his head, he sniffed with a small laugh as he started to read some crew reports. As Kandango dropped out of near SL the ship shook and creaked as it yawed around a small object in their path. Without slowing Kandango’s weapons took the Niihuian mine out.

Good shot, Grace almost shouted, as Karl swung the weapons towards a second object that turned out to be a small rock.

George looked up from his reports with interest. In his three years of observing no-one had adjusted so fast, he made mental note.

Chirrp, a metallic voice sang from beside him. George flinched, shocked, Aavac had crept up on him again!

Harrumph, he grumbled, clearing his throat, exposing his teeth in reflex just before he normally would have struck out to defend himself.

The Chelleran noticing Yakamura’s nervous small jump pointed at her feet and tapped the metal deck.

I’ll make noise next time captain, she offered, as she had done several times before.

Forget it, he replied, feeling she would break that promise within a day. He knew Chelleran’s were by nature light on their feet. George rubbed his neck to lower his tension. In response Aavac glided her hands along his shoulder.

It was the only mine I found sir, I text messaged Stang to pass close to see how fast the Ensign could take it out. Its warhead was just about depleted she emphasized quietly.

Suddenly an orange-reddish light started blinking on Janus Rind’s station. The other Essex veteran had been unusually quiet over the last few days hiding her excitement at getting home to see her granddaughter for the first time. Rind’s impatience over the current delay was worn on her sleeve. She slowly put her earpiece on working it back and forth, drilling it in. She spoke quietly for a few seconds. The color slowly drained from her face, turning to face him clearly understanding the message was a changer, she feared was going to delay her return to Earth quite a bit longer.

"Fleet sir! Temporal alert, currently minor, only ships pinged as subject to time paradox scenario notified." she stated, suddenly she scowled, the flashing light turned red.

Sir! she exclaimed, It—t just upped to a stage one Alert, Fleet’s AI has flagged Kandango for primary involvement, she stammered, licking her suddenly dried lips, slumping in her chair Rind appeared petrified having a good idea what this could mean.

"Great! Now what," George swore quietly, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. He wanted to go home as much as everyone else. Expecting an end of the mission, this was especially disappointing. The Crispus battle, now this, he collected himself asking the obvious.

"Any idea how we are involved," George said letting out a huge breath of air. Around him voices rose in tempo. He made a loud shushing noise to quiet them. Janus showing her displeasure jammed her earpiece deep into her ear. She scowled as she started to monitor its blipping noises from the data stream going into the main computer system. She waited patiently for the input to end with its standard voice summation. It took a minute, seemed like ten, finally with a breath of angry air Rind listened to the final report, her eyes widened slightly as she repeated it.

Message is general right now. Fleet Command has downloaded all they have, her blanched face grimacing, All they say for now is good luck, she said her hands starting to shake.

What does the manual say, Yakamura thought, business as usual? Pausing to think George furrowed his forehead. Take the Ensign off Tactical put him on back up I don’t want to fall into any rogue black holes or time abnormalities.

Ensign Dunbar shift to back up Tactical Officer, George ordered, sharply. He started pumping his right leg up and down nervously.

Time pollution and the future of the Star Republic, the title of a secret report George remembered from his last briefing session before he left for the mission. That nagged him, looking around the bridge focused on the concerned murmurs. The widened eyes, brief looks at each other, but still glued to their duties. He made a quick check, six minutes until settling into orbit, time enough, he believed.

"Computer, convere mode, brief of Time pollution and the future of the Republic," he ordered, as he hissed out air from his pursed lips. He fumbled around to put an earpiece on. A droning voice jumped in immediately after he switched on:

‘It is becoming more evident external alien elements and internal involuntary paradoxes are impacting history. We postulate at some point a major historical event will be altered that may ripple apart history that led to the creation of the Republic. A second theory, given equal weight, a tip event will set off change that splits reality.

Time will fission into two or more separate realities, one with no evident change in the original time-line, the other new, each with no apparent change of mass. Of note some point out splits may be infinite in scope.

George doubtful, bit his tongue gently, stopped the computer. He looked at the screen thoughtfully forming his simple question.

A stage one alert could signal an end of the Republic, or splitting, which is it, he asked out loud.

End of civilization as we know it, the machine replied, stunning him into temporary silence.

Odds, he asked, not sure if he wanted that answer.

Variables of human interaction do not allow accurate computation of odds, the machine replied.

Thanks for nothing, George whispered, pulling the ear piece off.

The ship swept close to a capture Asteroid, its brilliant point of light finally swelling into three then four orbs. Frank Webb the navigator new to Kandango, but a very experienced pilot kept the ship high speed until the last possible second. Just as the ship seemed to get too close its engines screamed with protest shifting the artificial gravity focus directly behind. Applying simple braking jets Kandango almost instantly slowed to orbital velocity matching the asteroid’s. George wrinkling his nose thought this was a little extreme, but he also liked race cars. He smiled slightly to his navigator’s satisfied glance back, but the diversion did little to wipe etch of concern from his face.

Yakamura knew time travel was a horrible problem by reason technology existed to move back and forth in it. Republic policy was changed, a few years back forbidding unauthorized travel after a second trip to 1960’s Earth. That trip alone had triggered some strange observations after Essex returned. A flood of what ifs flooded into his brain. Aavac, tapped this time as she approached, George looked at her, grateful for his science officer’s new tact.

Any recommendations, he asked, with a stress to his voice, mind arguing whether they were already in paradox, or was it ahead. Would they notice a time change, or shift, he just didn’t know. Watching Karl nearby, he noticed he also was tapping fingers nervously on his console.

The man eyed him then averted away. George looked at another, then Grace who was twiddling her hair. The word was getting out, he had to say something.

Rind, he paused thinking of what to say.

Ship wide, George ordered.

He didn’t mince words.

We received a message from Fleet of time paradox alert. Fleet AI has found no changes in the time line thus far, George announced trying to sound upbeat. Speaking louder: Do your duties and like always we’ll prevail,

George tried to think of something more profound to say, but nothing would come, not wanting to dwell too long he concluded it was best to keep it simple.

Captain out, he said, shutting down the link. His brow quickly furrowed as a new thing jumped to his attention—computer space available for the paradox program. He remembered one of the first things he had been told. Kandango’s mainframe had suddenly earmarked a huge amount of firepower to work the problem.

Sixteen percent, George muttered out loud,