GAIA

A Legacy Of Steel

Part One – A Legacy Of Steel

Chapter One – HMS Themistocles

It was barely an audible whisper.

Captain Leonidas Stone fixed his communications officer an inquisitive stare.

'A.O.K on the comm-link sir,' explained lieutenant Joan Walsh, 'whoever just hailed was simply out of breath?'

Captain Stone stared about the command bridge of his stellar dreadnought as though searching for competence. The starkness of the black granite surfaces and the well disguised comfort of the navy blue velvet upholsteries however offered precious little reflection. The massive chamber was a place of darkness, broken only by the bluish light of instrument panels and holographic monitors. It felt like space itself, if comfortably warm.

'Any other inbound communique?' he inquired.

Joan studied her holo-screen. Fingering into prominence the required wave display, she followed standard procedure by first studying the resonance/time graph relative to the period in which the communique was received; a simple task considering she was aboard a stellar dreadnought. On-board super-computers chronologically stored all communique transmitted and received to the extent that as communications officer, Joan could if necessary, recall the entire communicative history of the eight hundred and seventy seven year old vessel.

Studying the just received communique, Joan was satisfied with the integrity of the comm-link. The Galactic Anthropic Imperial Armada (GAIA) transponder signature of a fuzzy line uniformly interrupted by a pulse every ten milliseconds standard Earth time (SET) verified authenticity. Joan's heart skipped a beat a short moment later.

The fuzzy line ran exactly 1.467 seconds before spiking into bold life. The visual display of an increase in energy was expected, it signified the power used to carry the message. What had Joan reaching for the crucifix about her neck was what happened at 3.666 seconds, when the message was lost.

'What's wrong Joan?' captain Stone asked.

How like a man Joan wondered? Due to the obsolete lay out of the command bridge, the view afforded the captain's chair provided a profile view of the communications officer at best.

Though to address her captain all Joan needed was turn her head, she could not simultaneously face him and her holo-screen – no such problem on a modern cruiser! So why was it Joan wondered, that her captain could read her current distress so accurately, and yet remain oblivious to her amorous feelings towards him?

'Sir,' she began tentatively, swivelling in her deep chair so as to face her superior, 'please bear with me. Long range particle-resonance communications were only perfected towards the end of the Galactic War as you probably well know. During the second galaxy war, communications officers began to notice frequently occurring spikes in there particle-resonance wave display histories. Eventually, a Tau Ceti communications officer by the name of Yuri Salenko solved the mystery.'

Captain Stone smiled despite himself. Though perhaps expedience would be a trait far better suited to a bridge officer than enthusiasm, he fell prey to lieutenant Walsh's genuine love of her station; she would feverishly discuss the topic of communications with anyone polite enough to listen. He almost broke out into laughter at the sudden memory of Joan's private book collection. A nostalgic at heart, she kept actual paper and ink copies of her favourite publications. The pride of her collection, as she had so enthusiastically announced to him during an awkward dinner date, was a 1,300 page hard bound text called Communications: from Cave Women to Split Particle Resonance Chambers. Fixing the blue eyed beauty an urgent expression, captain Stone hoped Joan might soon reach her point.