Board Thread:Archive/@comment-24866242-20140521000257

Subject: Orions Eye Date: Sat, Jan 24, 1998 2:45 AM From: MatterCat

Fingers alighted upon the three-layer keyboard in rapid succession, punching out code after code of mathematical formulae. The screen in front of Matt was an off-worlder design. It just floated in front of him like a disembodied window to another realm, a gaping hole in reality through which he accessed any data he so desired with the simple touch of a few buttons. As new data appeared on the monitor through an unseen uplink, his ears where greeted by a soft, rapid fire beeping that accompanied each and every letter as the cursor scrolled the information quickly across the screen. It unfortunately revealed to him absolutely nothing, nothing that helped anyway.

He shook his head in frustration, and wiped his hand across his face as if that would help clear his thoughts. All it succeeded in doing was to smear glistening perspiration across his cheeks. Yawning, and stretching helped little either, so he reached for the glass of water, already two-thirds empty, that sat just to the right of the keyboard. The liquid was way past being cool, but the luke-warm water helped him enough to concentrate for yet another bout with the perplexing problem that faced him.

He knew it had to be out there. He set the rapid emission point scanner (that everyone liked to anacronize to "Reps") for the sixteenth time since he'd been here, and then leaned back wearily in his swivel chair and organized the data he'd gathered to date.

The star ship Vextis, that he was currently a passenger of, was once again orbiting Ry-Din. Ry-Din was they very place Mathew had first found himself in this strange…. What should he call it? Place? Realm? Galaxy? Other dimension?. Whatever, it was not where he had originated, and somewhere, in a strange orbit around this particular planet, was the gate back to his original dimension. He knew this, because he remembered coming through it in the first place.

Unfortunately, the ship that had brought him through promptly crashed on the planet, leaving him at somewhat of a disadvantage to return whence he came. Now that he had the means, he was trying to locate it again. Easier said than done for something that was virtually invisible to any known physics.

As he worked, he was beginning to think more and more that the ship simply didn't have the sensor technology to find what he was looking for. He'd been working on the problem for a week, practically without sleep scouring and searching every iota of space anywhere near the planet to no avail, and it was starting to wear on him.

He was starting to make mistakes. A point he realized as he stared into the now empty glass he held in his hand. The realization came slowly that it wasn't the inadequacy of the sensors that was causing the problem, it was his own inadequacy. He'd been following one line of reasoning for the past couple days, and had truly thought he was on the right track. He'd forgotten to look at the problem with fresh ideas, even if it meant backing up a few days.

With that, he mentally backed up. He had been trying to detect some sort of sub-space anomaly that was currently in existence. His fingers went to work once more, typing instructions for the computer with new inspiration. He had an idea. Instead of trying to find the anomaly itself, why not find the conditions that would make such an anomaly in the first place? Kind of like finding the invisible man by throwing pain on him.

Within an hour, it paid off. The screen lit up with a section of space near the south pole of Ry-Din. It looked empty at first, like any other chunk of space. Matt adjusted a few variables, and opened two more screens on either side of the first, showing differing angles on the same area.

"Execute." His command had the satisfied sound of triumph in it.

As the simulation ran in front of him his mouth stretched in a smile. The screens now showed him three different views of a rapidly expanding electric blue vortex. On the screen to the right of him, it looked like a cloudy blue ring. It stabilized its expansion at about a mile in diameter. The screen to his left showed a tornado on its side. The blues of the fringes fading into a cosmic blur towards the smaller end. He immediately stood up and did a little dance. The middle screen was still dark as it worked to produce the third requested view. He didn't wait for it, he had what he wanted.

Refilling his glass from the dispenser by his rooms com screen, he had a sudden feeling to share his victory.

"Request link to the Captain." The com screen showed the Vextis command logo for a few seconds before the face of Kat appeared.

"What kin I d'fer ya?" Her smile made Matt feel even better.

"I did it! Come to me cabin. I have somethin ta show ya " He lifted his glass to the screen in a mock toast, grinning like a maniac.

She became slightly worried, as she saw the expression on Matt's face. "Y'look t'happy fer words… Matt, Wha' are y'up ta?" Matt just smiled as the screen went blank.

He wandered back to the computer console to admire the images once more, and wait for Kat. It was the image that now appeared on the center screen that transformed his smile into a quirky frown. It showed the vortex, from a diagonal angle against the backdrop of the planet below. The problem he saw was that the planet was not far below. In fact the coordinates showed the vortex hovering within the upper atmosphere, not more than fifty-two miles up. This could pose a problem.

"Aw crud…"

Subject: Re: Orions Eye Date: Tue, Jan 27, 1998 12:27 AM From: Ben Stinel

"Okay, bring the nose up a bit," Ben said. "And slow it down a bit. This is a docking run, not an attack."

"Aye, sir, Capitano. Changing course and adjusting speed."

Chico Alvarez was at the helm and Ben was sitting in the seat behind him, reading a book and just keeping casual tabs on Chico's progress. The Vextis was about three kilometers above and ahead and the McKenzie was gaining slowly. The earth light from Rhydin made the huge starship shine against the black of space. Hanging above the shape of Vextis was the red moon that Ben and Chico called home. At this distance it seemed tiny, only slightly larger than the steadily growing shape of Kat's ship.

"Hey, Ben? We're at twenty-five hundred meters."

"You're doing fine. Keep it steady. Another five hundred and you're off the hook." Ben glanced over the screen before amending, "slow it down some more. You're eating up the space between us to quickly. If we come in to fast we're in for a bumpy ride once their shuttlebay takes over."

"Twenty-three…. Twenty-two… twenty-one…" Chico counted off the hectometers as they closed the gap.

"McKenzie, this is Vextis landing control. You're now in range. If you'd be so kind as to hand over control, we'll guide you the rest of the way in. Don't worry, guys. We'll bring you to a nice soft landing."

Ben stood up and put a hand on the back of Chico's chair while he reached over to tap the communications console. "Glad to hear it, Vextis. You treat her gentle now. Is Kat there?"

The runabout jerked slightly as the Vextis tractor beam seized her in its grip and then the signal from the other end resumed. ## She's waiting in the bay. ##

"Understood." Ben let the channel close and sat back in the other front seat. "She'd better be waiting. No explanation at all why she wanted to see me."

Ben and Chico had abandoned their reconnaissance mission without learning much about The Naylor Consortium when Kat's signal came in. She'd just said it was important and Ben had decided to go ahead and cut the mission short. They knew at least that the huge company had offices on hundreds of worlds and with only five hundred employees on staff, the Rhydin office was one of the smallest. Ben was going to have to start making plans if he was going to learn what this company was up to. He had no idea how he was going to find out.

All this time they had been drawing steadily closer to Vextis. The Starship now filled the runabouts windows and they could make out the details on the ship's skin. The shuttlebay yawned open in front of them and a second tractor beam shot out of the enclosure, gripping the runabout and pulling it the rest of the way in.

When the front tip of the runabout began to slide through the bay's force field a hum could suddenly be heard throughout the cabin. Energy held the air back but allowed the duranium of the runabout's hull to pass easily through. Ben could see Matt and Katrylle watch the runabout slide through the force field. Once the field had cleared the windows they could hear the sounds of the shuttlebay as well. A dull thud marked their landing as the runabout connected with the floor.

"Common, let's get out there," Ben said and he and Chico stood up to head over to the hatch. With the tap of a button, they disembarked.

Subject: Re: Orions Eye Date: Tue, Jan 27, 1998 1:45 PM From: KatrylleM

With all that had been happening in the past couple of months, she had clean forgotten about the conversation she had with Matt before they ever left the DB's concerning his retrieval of his ship. So, when she had stepped into his quarters earlier that day, his excited chatter meant nothing to her...that is, not until he mentioned the ship. It was only then that the true meaning of his excitement hit her.....and she was suddenly uncomfortable.

She had only half heard his comments about the vortex being too close to RhyDin soil to take anything larger than a fighter into and he was sure a fighter would not be able to make the five day journey once *in* the vortex. Her mind on other things, she absently replied that the Nighthawk could make the trip with no problems. Her main concern, however, was not how he was going to get there, but what he would do once he *was* there. For some odd reason, she was suddenly frightened that she would never see him again. There had only been 4 people in her life that she trusted heart, body and soul....one was dead and now, it was possible another would be disappearing from her life forever. It was too painful to consider Ry would never return, so she just didn't add it to the list of possibilities.

From his reaction to her mention of the Nighthawk, it would have seemed that he had never heard of the fighter. This didn't surprise Kat. Out of all the DoomBringers, Ben was the only one who remembered its existence. It wasn't that she had kept it a secret, it just seemed that no one had any interest in the bird.

She had... "aquired" the Nighthawk, an experimental aero/space fighter, only a few months after she had not only become a DB, but the DB quartermaster. The aquisition, along with that of three war bikes and various weapons, was simple enough. In fact, the group whom she had...."aquired" them from made it near impossible *not* to steal them.

In six weeks, she had disassembled the entire fighter and one of the bikes, blueprinted them and reassembled them, adding her own modifications and tagging them with new serial numbers that listed them as having been Doom Bringer equipment for three years. The modified bike became hers and, though she had aquired the Nighthawk for the Doom Bringers, she and Ben had been the only ones who had taken an interest in the fighter.

She had been pulled from her thoughts by Matt's questioning and, although she hadn't voiced her concerns about his disappearance from her life, he somehow knew and tried to comfort her.

Quietly, she gave him the rundown on the Nighthawk and, when she added that the bird was a two man fighter, Matt never hesitated in suggesting that she come with him. Her own hesitation in saying yes was only slightly longer, but, in the midst of planning the trip, one extremely vital reason for her *not* to go suddenly slammed into her like the concussion from a Leopard Class Jump Ship. It wasn't that she was worried about the Vextis. The ship and her crew were in very capable hands in the form of Ryan Swets. There was one, however....one small, frequently insecure and, in her mind at least, twice abandoned little girl that, although Kat knew would be well looked after, could not face having another "parent" tell her goodbye. Kat would not....*could* not do that to Ilrea.

Still, the problem remained that Matt should not make that trip by himself, especially in an experimental craft he had never flown before. There was only one solution as far as Kat could see.....take Ilrea with them. But, when Matt firmly and emphatically objected, a small tickle of an idea began to form itself in her mind. There *was* another solution. Ben. He knew the Nighthawk, even though it had been a quite a while since piloting her.

There was no one she trusted more. Again, Matt objected, arguing that he didn't know Ben well enough to ask him to join him on this possibly hazardous journey. This time, however, Kat would not be put down.

Even as they made their way to the flight bay, her mind played out the conversation she would have with Ben even as her mouth spouted dimentions and statistics of the Nighthawk to Matt. Yes, it was the perfect solution.

As Matt looked over the fighter, Kat put in a quick call to the Colorado, asking that Ben join her on the Vextis. She gave no reason, only that it was important. Now, as she watched his ship being gently pulled into the bay, she seriously wondered if he would consider her proposal as important as she and Matt did.

Subject: Docking Date: Thu, Jan 29, 1998 10:29 PM From: MatterCat

The hum of the force field responsible for holding the ship bay air in was not a reassuring one for Matt. He was one more for the reassuring closed metal doors of older spacecraft. One tended to know when the door was open, and when it was shut. He didn't like airlocks to begin with, but with the field, all there was to indicate a barrier was a whitish glow around the parameter of the opening that supposedly let you know there was an invisible wall between you and the vacuum of space. Even then, you could watch spacecraft move right through it as though it wasn't actually there.

He wondered how much force it would take for a man to run though the barrier, where air could not pass. His mind wandered to fantasize about running off that edge and falling, just falling, forever. The instant pressure loss from one atmospheric pressure to none would result in rapid decompression syndrome. The pressurized gasses in his body would expand after only a few seconds of exposure. The resultant ruptures would send his body into uncontrollable spasms that would last for a few more seconds before total expansion occurred. It would leave nothing behind but a mutilated corpse, frozen like a statue, left to drift, and fall, for eternity. It would only take a few steps...

He caught himself taking a half step forward, as the magnetic docking locks of a docking shuttle awoke him from his daydream, and set the small craft in for a soft landing. The shuttle was designated the "McKenzie" in bold black along one side.

Kat stood beside him in a respectful yet familiar pose. Respectful for the station of the man they came to greet, familiar, because he was a friend. Matt knew the man as well. It was Captain Ben Stinel of the Coronado. Matt knew him from his days with the DBs. He never really had a chance to talk to the man, not at length anyway. His conversations with the man were always brief and with few words. Nevertheless, he liked the man. Kat, who he trusted with his life, always spoke highly of him, and his first hand experience with Ben as the old commander of the DBs told only of a friendly man who could be trusted to get any job set before him done.

The door to the shuttle withdrew, and a walking plank lowered. Moments later a young man, who looked to be Spanish, appeared and flanked the walkway to one side, his bomber jacket and jeans ofsetting his bored expression nicely. He stood and leaned on shoulder against the hull of the shuttle, looking around the bay as if he was waiting for something, anything to interest him, and make this something other than another tedious layover.

Having to duck in the small door, Ben stepped out onto the plank, scanned the docking bay briefly, and began to approach the waiting pair. The only thing on him that could even remotely constitute a uniform was an old navy field jacket he'd kept over from his days as a helmsman to another ship by the name of the "Saint John". He wore it casually, absolutely unfettered by any military conventions others may hold. As he came up close, he and Kat shook hands before turning it into a hug. Both he and Matt nodded greetings, before he once again turned his attention to Kat.

"So, What's this all about?" His gaze was on Kat, but flickered to Matt when she didn't answer immediately.

Matt spoke up as he patted Kat on the shoulder.

"Kat, he's all yers."

Subject: NightHawk Date: Tue, Jan 27, 1998 2:10 PM From: MatterCat

((this post occurs a little before Ben arrives on the Vextis))

Movement of the retro-thrusters persisted for nearly two seconds after he flipped the trigger. The hulk of aerodynamic metal wouldn't reach full efficiency until absolute alignment was achieved. He noted this. The directional thrusters where mounted heavily near the rear of the vessel, since it was both an in and out of atmosphere vehicle that's main propulsion used vectored thrust, this would make a central axis rotation a fraction slower than a field generated thrust. He noted this as well. The infrastructure was modular allowing him to drop major sections of the ship without compromising the rest, at reduced efficiency, of course, but it was worth noting. Noted. Modular ejection time. Noted. Magnetic canopy seal. Noted. Everything was noted. He was a young man biologically, but he'd packed that life with experience, and every grain of it was deemed necessary for survival. He was a survivalist. When he checked something inside and out, you could bet your bones he did a thorough job.

He jumped down from the cockpit off the small stepladder built into its carbon-crystal side. Now the behemoth towered over him like some piece of the bulkhead that had decided to stop falling four feet before it struck ground. The NightHawk was secured to the ceiling by a universal docking arm. The arm ended in a four-pronged claw that clasped the NightHawk in a predatory cinch. When active, the clamp would rotate, glide, then lower the

NightHawk into position over the bay doors in the floor. Then it would cant the NightHawk nose-first over the doors as they opened. Then it would release. The NightHawk would remain stationary for a brief moment like a ball reaching it's zenith after being thrown strait up. The main thrusters would then kick in like the sudden impact of a wrecking ball, and the NightHawk would clear the bay.

He'd been training on the operation of the bird ever since he'd talked to Kat. Kat was a good teacher. No nonsense, strait to the point when it was needed, and a smile with a wit quip any other time. It made training enjoyable, and he learned the bird fast. He was already an accomplished pilot, but this bird was like a whole new animal. It was trans-atmospheric, and convertible. That made it as much more complex from an ordinary ship as a diving bell is to a nuclear sub. He knew the basics, and the lingo, which made the teachers job that much easier, but far from simple. After he could steer the rocket, he would take it out on practice runs too numerous to count. The grapple arm received an extended workout, as did the NightHawk. He brought it out and made mistakes. He asked questions, learned how to cope, then made some more. For two weeks he put in over 160 hours of flight. That was a drop in the bucket compared to the time he'd already logged as a pilot. At the end of the second week, he was ready.

Right now he need to shower, to eat, and to look over the design specs to the NightHawk one last time. Then it was off to old familiar stars...

Subject: Looking for Plumbing in all the wrong places. Date: Fri, Jan 30, 1998 1:41 AM From: Ben Stinel

The one truly great thing about Rhydin was that every reality that could and did exist sooner or later made an appearance. The reason this was such a great situation was that the realities of any one given universe were successfully duplicated as the fictions of the others and without the knowledge of the writers. That was why when Aric Bane had first started babbling about the "bugs" and Port Joe Smith just before

Ben left the Doom Bringers, he'd decided to look the situation up. First he'd found the twentieth century "movie" Starship Troopers and from there it had been almost childishly simple to find the book which had been written almost fifty years before hand. The characters had the same names for the most part, but from there in they were two pretty different stories. Some of the characters weren't even the same sexes. One such misrepresented character was supposed to die in the first chapter of the book but lasted through most of the movie.

When the McKenzie set down on the floor of the shuttlebay he dropped the book with a thud on the console and turned in his chair to follow Chico out. Maybe somewhere out there, Ben mused, there's a reality where my life is just a novel. The last three months had certainly been interesting enough for it.

The shuttlebay doors were closing when the hatch to the McKenzie slid open. The runabout filled a good bit of the launching center and certainly dwarfed the small surface to orbit shuttle craft that the Vextis carried. The difference was that the shuttles were dependent on their mother ship and the McKenzie had been built to be completely self sufficient. It was pure luck that the Colorado even had the smaller ship in its shuttlebay. A runabout certainly wasn't a standard issue shuttle.

Chico was out first and stood to one side to lounge while Ben saw to his business. Ben knew what the Spaniard wanted and that was to get back in the sky. Alvarez had taken to pilot training like a fish to water and he soaked up every minute of stick time Ben through at him and wanted more. The younger man took it in so easily it was hard to believe he was from Earth's eighteenth century. He was going to make a good helmsman.

Ben smiled and walked over to Kat and Matt, hugging his sister once he was close enough. "So, what's this all about?"

Kat seemed about to defer to Matt, so Ben looked to him for his answer.

Matt had other ideas though. "Kat, he's all yers," he said as he patted her on the shoulder.

"Five days in the Night Hawk?!?" Ben couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "That's insane! It's not just the idea of having to sit in the same position for five days straight, there's no…. no…" Ben moved his hand in a small circular motion, trying to come up with the right word. "There's no plumbing."

"Sure there is, you can wear a space suit from the waist down. They're equiped."

"Sure, for number one. Have you ever tried to go five days without number two?" There was a small giggle from the corner when Kat's step-daughter realized what Ben was talking about. This was turning into a regular bout of toddler humor.

"Kat," Matt said. "I can go alone. I've been learning the Night Hawk inside and out for the last two weeks. I'll be fine."

"Look, I didn't say I wouldn't go. But are you sure the Night Hawk is the only ship that will take you?"

Matt frowned. "Well, we need a ship thet has a faster than light drive and thet can make routine atmospheric reentry and take off. The Night Hawk is the only ship on the Vextis thet fits the bill."

"There are other ships that can do that though."

"Yes, but those are usually freighters. Far too big to do the job."

"What about the McKenzie?"

"Your shuttle?" Kat asked.

"Well, it's not really a shuttle. It's closer to a small starship, but it can make landing and there's plumbing!" Ilrea giggled again. "Not to mention, beds and plenty of room to move around in."

Matt nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good ta me. Yer shuttle can make warp without any additions. The NightHawk needs a booster pack ta do the job. I've been in that beast-of-a-bird fer two weeks now. It handles well, but the comforts of that shuttle sound a whole lot more fun than the two seat for a week option"

"It's settled then. When do we leave?"

"Two days," Matt told him.

"Good. Two days to teach you the McKenzie's controls. Kat, can you spare a shuttle and a pilot to take Chico back to the Colorado and AMB?"

Subject: Good bye blue sky. Date: Fri, Feb 6, 1998 3:28 AM From: MatterCat

Here he was again, going through yet another training session, on yet another space faring vehicle, and this time he had only two days to work with rather than two weeks, he didn't mind, he doughted he'd get to use the knowledge anyway. Nevertheless, the controls were easy enough to learn, and Ben was a very laid-back teacher. Matt hadn't bothered to go into the thorough detail he'd gone through with learning the NightHawk. Some would say it was because he only had two days to learn, but there were other reasons as well.

At the end of the second day he took the evening to gather his thoughts. His first stop was his room. He took his duffel bag from the shelf and patted it reassuringly, feeling the fullness of it, and became satisfied that all was accounted for. He moved briefly to the small desk he had put in for writing, and blew out the old style oil lamp with a puff of air.

Next stop was Alystons' room. There he only stood in front of the door for five minutes, saying in his head what he knew he should be saying to her face. He almost rang the door-chime, but decided against it, not liking good-byes.

Lastly, he stopped at the bridge. There he punched in the authorization code for the ship-bay operator, allowing for a launch to be scheduled without raising any undue attention. Looking out the ship windows he almost allowed himself to feel a ting of guilt, but the feeling passed as quickly as it came. He'd done this before. Many times before.

He took the transfer-tube directly to the launch bay, and suited up in the attached pilot locker room. When he clambered into the cockpit of the NightHawk he was fully outfitted in his flight-suit.

The ship sported a full Starlight Star-drive booster array covering the engine thrust-ports, and most of the back end of the plane. "Thrusters on steroids" Is what he had called them, as he hooked them up the day before with Kat, saying he wanted to at least see the unit together since they went through all the trouble of finding the part, ordering it, and then modifying it to suit the NightHawk. Such a thing shouldn't go to waste, he'd told her. It wouldn't

He locked down his harness and reached for the power-up panel switches, with his right hand. His left went for the radio link.

"This is the NightHawk. Requesting clearance to launch."

"NightHawk, this is docking control, we just received your clearance. You may proceed to launch door three. Pleasant flying." The radio gave the voice of control the sharp edge of electronic communication. He was sure he sounded the same to them.

"Thank you control. I'll do my best."

The docking arm on the ceiling came to life at his command, and swung the NightHawk to a position over launch door three. Red lights began to flash, creating morbid silhouettes of ships and docking machinery to play along the bay walls. The doors slid open, the craft tilted, and rocket thrusters flared. He was away.

As soon as the craft cleared the field border of the Vextis, he hit the boosters. Immediately he was crushed into his seat by an eight gee acceleration. The computer display in front of him chirped off milestones to his destination.

Fifteen minutes, and half way to the wormhole, his radio spoke.

"NightHawk, this is control. You have deviated from you're scheduled flight path. Are you in trouble? Repeat, do you need assistance?"

"Negative control. Everything is fine. Just a little sightseeing." He spoke as though there were nothing out of the ordinary. His voice betrayed nothing. He knew they couldn't follow him. All the information on the wormhole, except basic local, was stored in his own personal computer. Of the near infinite frequency variations that might open the hole, only he had the data for the right one, in a small data-card that he now slipped into the waiting slot of the onboard computer.

"NightHawk, your current flight path is on an intercept course with anomaly delta-twelve. You are ordered to break off your current vector and return to base"

"Negative control, no can do." He flipped the radios' off-switch. He knew the next voice to call over it would be one he'd rather not talk to. He hated good-byes.

Subject: Re: Good bye blue sky. Date: Fri, Feb 6, 1998 1:55 PM From: Ben Stinel

"Commodore Stinel, report to the main shuttlebay with your gear, on the double."

The guest quarters were comfortable but he hadn't really had the opportunity to move in. He hadn't even unpacked, knowing he wasn't going to be here long. He stuffed his book into the pocket on the side of the duffel bag and hoisted it over his shoulder before leaving the room behind and jogging the short distance to the shuttlebay where his runabout was parked.

The Commodore line had thrown him a curve at first. It had taken him a moment to remember that there could never be two captains on one ship at a time, so the visiting captain was always upped a rank to avoid confusion for the crew. For the crew, not for the visiting captain. It was even worse for him because on his own ship there was no rank. His crew didn't call him captain at all. The closest they came to it was the occasional "Boss" thrown in here or there. But Chaz was just as likely to get that from the crew, and even Ben called him boss since Billith was the guy in charge as far as the repairs went.

Before he knew it, he was in the shuttlebay walking towards the hatch to his runabout. The dock master ran up and walked with him towards his ship.

"Here's your flight plan, Commodore," he said, handing him a data padd. "There's an open channel in your cockpit to the bridge and the Captain will brief you once you're underway."

"Good," Ben said as he looked over the course. "Did my pilot get underway yet?"

"Yes, sir, his shuttle left for the Colorado three hours ago."

Ben nodded. It was what he was expecting. "Okay. Is Matt already aboard?"

The dock master hesitated. "Maybe you'd better let the Captain explain that, sir."

By the time the word "sir" was out, Ben was already in the cockpit and the door was closing, so he moved to the pilot's seat and took the controls. The green light was given and he began backing the ship out since it was too big to turn inside of the shuttlebay.

"Bridge t'McKenzie."

"McKenzie here," Ben said. "What's this all about, sis?"

"Matt's left already," she said over the comm line. "He's on his way to the worm hole. If he gets in before you get there we won't be able to open it again."

"What's his ETA to target?"

There was a pause as Kat checked her figures. "Five minutes."

Ben double checked his own figures and grimaced. It was going to take him twenty minutes at full impulse. His top sublight speed was a three eighths the speed of light and the Night Hawk was at least twice as fast on her worst day. The Vextis herself didn't stand much chance of catching Matt. The big starship was as limited at sublight as all of the large ships were. One quarter light speed was the best she could do short of going to warp.

"No problem," Ben lied. "I'll catch him."

Kat would have words with him when he came back empty handed. The Vextis' sensors would be able to see he was loosing space between himself and the fighter.

The minutes ticked by and he could almost see Kat scowling from her chair as she watched the sensor screen showing the Night Hawk slipping away from him.

"Ben, he's opening the wormhole now!"

Ben didn't answer her. He'd just thought of something and he didn't have time.

"Computer, calculate a two second burst of warp 1.5 then pull us out without standard deceleration."

The computer warbled for a moment and then replied, "Procedure is not recommended this close to a planetary gravity field."

"I'm aware of the risks, computer. Do it now."

From the point of view of the Vextis, the McKenzie disappeared for two seconds and then reappeared just aft of the Night Hawk before barreling past the fighter at more than nine tenths the speed of light. The McKenzie slid through the newly formed wormhole just before the smaller ship did and when the passage closed both ships were on the other side.

Subject: Through the looking glass. Date: Thu, Feb 12, 1998 1:33 AM From: MatterCat

His heads up display showed the launch of a pursuit craft when he was four minutes forty-three seconds ETA till the wormhole. He expected such a gesture from Kat. Her care for him was hard to ignore, and he felt his guilt trying to crawl back up from where he'd put it. That's all it was though, a gesture. He knew that none of the ships aboard the Vextis could catch him before he reached the wormhole, he had a twenty-five minute lead, and the boosters to keep it.

He reached above his right shoulder and tested his harness lock making sure yet again that it was secure. The differential of opening a wormhole from an atmosphere to a void was promising to be tremendous.

His finger flipped the switch to turn on the narrow beam transmitter fitted just under the nose of the craft. Time for transmission was set for four minutes and thirty seconds, allowing him five seconds of time between the moment the hole opened to the moment he passed through to contemplate just how risky this little stunt was. When it opened, there would be no turning back, the vacuum on the other side would suck him and the NightHawk right through just like, well, a vacuum.

At ten seconds to arrival, he watched the modified transmitter charge up its field coil and fire. The resulting pulse used up such a large charge of energy that it caused the other systems in the cockpit to visibly dim for a couple seconds while the engines' fusion batteries strained to keep up. His canopy lit up with an iridescent electric blue as his energy pulse hit its destination point like a bullet shot into a lake.

In a beautiful display of quantum physics the air a few miles in front of him splashed apart in an ever-growing ring of lightning. In the center of this circle, air began streaming through in a vortex as if it were water being sucked through the wall of a perforated fish tank. The NightHawk shuddered as it was forcefuly accelerated toward the widening hole.

Matt braced himself with his feet and held onto his harness straps with white knuckled hands. At this point the fighter was vibrating fiercely, completely in the grasp of the void beyond the vortex. The moment he hit the edge of the wormhole, the border had expanded to a kilometer in diameter, and was just now beginning to contract like a straining rubber band.

He looked out to the right of his canopy in time to see a streak of white blur by the NightHawk's friction heated wing like a streak on a window. It was the afterimage of something barreling past him into the wormhole at incredible speed. Then *Shawuf!* Everything was quiet again, as the dimensional gate snapped closed behind him, and the atmosphere around him dispersed. Where there was a planet and sky, now there was only a sea of stars.

Matt eyed his myriad screens and displays, checking his status. Tiny stabalizer jets kept the fighter stable, taking over the job from the useless wings. A loud *pop!* rang though his cockpit as a small panel came off the side of the fuselage and shot into space trialing coolant crystals. His control lights stayed green. Nothing serious, most likely a maintenance panel that couldn't handle the instantaneous strain from the pressure change.

Concern returned to him as his sensors picked up on what seemed to be a spacecraft, not more than a couple klicks off his bow. The reading came back to him identifying the object as a shuttle. What was worse, was the fact that he knew at a glance what kind of shuttle it was, and who was piloting it. Damn that Ben! Damn inginuitive dog. Somehow he had followed Matt through the wormhole.

Matt hated it when his plans didn't go as planned, but then, they usually never did. He'd have to commend Ben on his wits and tenacity. For the moment, all he did was let out a large sigh, and opened a comm channel.

"Hello Ben, welcome ta my universe. Need any help?" He left the channel open to receive.

Subject: Re: Through the looking glass. Date: Mon, Feb 16, 1998 11:17 PM From: Ben Stinel

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Ben said. "I'm reading you've got a small coolant leak over there."

"I saw it," Matt said. "My board is still green across. Just stress from the sudden decompression. I don't think it's serious."

Ben nodded. "Understood. I picked up some minor hull stress coming through as well."

There was a pause on Matt's end before he said, "You shouldn't have followed me, Ben."

"Believe me, I wasn't planing on it. But I told Kat I'd keep an eye on you, so here I am," Ben said. "Now, how about sending me a flight plan so we can get what it is you came here for and get the hell outa here."

"Ever play follow the leader?" Matt asked.

"Sure, twenty years ago."

"Good, follow me."

Subject: Re: Lost in Space! Date: Fri, Mar 6, 1998 12:39 PM From: KatrylleM

She had watched them disapear with a combination of fury and fright. Now, all she could do was wait for their return.....and plan.

Subject: Living. Date: Thu, Jan 22, 1998 4:05 AM From: MatterCat

Running around the central access corridor turned out to be a good idea. With his mind working on only his personal problems lately, Matt had begun to feel more and more as though he was alone on the ship. Even though he had friends aboard, he hadn't had much time- correction- Made enough time to see them in the past couple months. For the most part, the situation suited him just fine. He was used to being alone to do his thing, indeed he preferred it more often than not.

He jogged passed a huge odd looking blue dog towing around what looked to be Gandi reincarnated. The man gave the cursory nod of acknowledgement people find necessary to give when passing strangers, before being dragged around a corner that led to the cafeteria, acting as though that's where he had meant to go in the first place. Matt smiled inside.

He felt like a fifth wheel aboard the ship as it was. Burying himself in otherworldly trade practices seemed to be a good idea. So he had spent the last two months pouring over 32 different ways to say "hi", "how much", and "you're outa yer mind!" in twelve different alien dialects. The old business of pira- er, privateering, and pawni- er, merchandising, hadn't fled him entirely, and he found it easy to slip back into old habits.

He rounded the next corner, and dodged a small courier droid, never breaking his rhythmic stride. It let out a comical squeak as he passed., In fright or reprimand, he didn't know. He didn't really need the exercise, but it felt good to be using his body. He liked the way it responded to his jog. He'd been cooped up in his room for too long. He needed to feel a part of the world around him, he needed to feel alive.

Even tough, he still felt as though he should be "doing" something… anything worthwhile. With the relatively recent departure from the DBs and the settling in on the Vextis, he found himself loosing sight of what he was doing just before he left. He wanted to find his ship. Maybe it was because he needed to feel independent again, or maybe it was because he had something he needed to prove to himself, and reaffirm he was still who he thought himself to be. Maybe it was just a status symbol. All he knew is that that was the answer. It was a choice of either hermitting around the Vextis like the rarely seen Yeti, or finding his ship, and facing his past.

Yes, he would find his ship. He made up his mind. Of course, he couldn't forget about the problem of Alyston…. 