The Maelstrom Incident

Alone in the Galaxy

Five Days Earlier:

I was roaming through the hanger deck, slowly making my way towards the I-36 Griffin interceptor set up on the launch catapult. Imperial regulations dictated that there should be a fighter ready for launch at all times. As the squadron leader of Arctic Squad I had decided to make it my fighter. Though there was no need to hurry as I meandered through the hanger space. We were currently on a long range patrol with our sister ship the ISV Dauntless and there wasn't much to worry about. We were two of the most sophisticated ships in the fleet built to perfectly complement each other.

We were currently sailing through the expanse of the Kepler Malestrom. A region of unstable space on the very edge of the Human Zone of Occupation that was frequented by pirates and raiding fleets. Our job in the area was long range scouting and anti-piracy measures designed to protect the shipping and civilian fleets of the galaxy.

Though pirates are always a danger this far out in wild space, they didn't dare challenge an Imperial patrol. Especially not one this heavily armed. Between our state of the art Defender Point Defense system made of overlapping flak guns and point defense lasers and our trio of quad Berserker Cannons, capable of accelerating four one-ton slugs to .15% the speed of light every 7 seconds each, we were a formidable pair of ships. Not to mention unlike most other cruiser class warships the Dauntless and Revival were equipped with their own small hanger decks. Capable of launching and servicing a squadron of five I-36 Griffin interceptors each.

I finally arrived beside my interceptor. A smooth black frame with long blue accents running the length of its frame. The soft rolling folds of the ship designed to fool radar and other scanners in order to provide some modicum of stealth. Allowing for us to get as close as possible before being picked up by enemy anti-starfighter fire. I slid into the plush but tight jump seat. Folding my long lanky 6' frame into the confines. My shoulders sinking just below the edges of the metal frame. Only my neck and head visible above the frame.

I started flipping switches running diagnostics on the systems. It was a habit I was in of checking my ship at least once a day. It had proved the difference between life and death a couple of times and I refused to tempt fate. I grabbed my flight helmet off the dashboard sliding it over my head. I lower the visor booting up the Heads Up Display (HUD) on the inside of my visor. I began to run through different system checks ensuring everything was finely tuned and ready to go.

Satisfied that everything was in perfect working condition I ran a final test powering up the weapons system. The Griffin was a small nimble craft but it packed a punch much larger than its size. Sporting a pair of dual Ripper Gatling Guns in conjunction with a pair of powerful Farixx anti-starfighter lasers. Combined with its small frame and rapid maneuverability the Griffin could outfly and outfight most fighters and even some gunships. Satisfied that everything worked as it was supposed to I powered off my helmets hud and set it back on the dash climbing out of the cockpit.

As my heavy black boots thudded against the metal floor I turned towards the rest of the hanger and was met with one of my crew chiefs approaching. "Good morning Dawson." I called out in greeting as he got closer. He was a smaller guy but a very reliable mechanic. One of the few I preferred to work on my interceptor as I expected the best. He nodded at me "Good Morning sir, should I run daily diagnostics and get her ready for you?" I shook my head smiling "No need. I already ran diagnostics and am satisfied with its current readiness. Just keep her warm and ready to go. Make sure the rest of the squadron is properly serviced and ready to go in launch order. I want to be ready for rapid launches."

He nodded his eyes roaming the rest of the deck taking in the fighters lined up off to the sides of the hanger. His eyes then focused back on me and he snapped off a crisp salute. "I'll make sure the squadron is in fighting shape sir. Also the Officer of the Watch is looking for you. Report to the bridge when able." I nodded and returned the salute "Thank you Dawson."

I turned on my heel and headed towards the elevator the clatter of my boots echoing on the relatively empty hanger deck. I wave to several of the maintenance personnel as they carried out their duties on the interceptors and the trio of drop ships. Finally arriving at the elevator I pressed the button for bridge level making my way to report to the Officer of the Watch.

I waited patiently humming a random tune as the floors ticked by. Before long the elevator stopped at bridge level. I stepped out and walked down the short corridor before nodding to the marine sentries flanking the door to either side as they snapped to attention. The doors slid open almost silently revealing the dimly lit bridge.

My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room revealing the multiple command stations arranged in a semi circle around the Captains Chair. From his slightly elevated platform he would be able to look down at every subordinates station. Able to react to rapidly changing situations and issue quick orders from a central point in the room. Arrayed in the semi circle were several stations for the bridge officers. Navigation, Pilot, Operations, Engineering, Security, and Communications all arrayed for easy access to and discussion with others in the room.

I walked over to the Officer of the Watch currently occupying the Captains Chair, "Commander Hill you called for me?" He looked over his shoulder after taking a sip out of the coffee cup in his hand. "Ah yes Lieutenant, come over here. Take a look at this" he called motioning me over to the chair. "Downer have you ever seen anything like this?" He asked as he pulled up display showing what seemed like a signal of impossible strength. The signal seemed to originate from close to the heart of the Malestrom. Plotting a course that drew us deep into the heart of the nebula which would obscure long range signals and scramble communications.

"Well sir I'm not the signals expert but I would say that warrants a long ranger fighter patrol. See what is out there?" He seemed to ponder biting his lip "maybe I should rouse the Old Man and let him make the decision" I nodded in assent "I would and I would recommend informing the Captain of the Dauntless as well. If they haven't already detected it."

With that suggestion an unforgettable encounter was set in motion. One that would lead to death but also possibilities. I waited patiently to see where this course of action would lead and what the captain would decide.