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Of Astronauts and Argonauts - Shazbot11 - 09-05-2009
There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance.
-Socrates
I vividly remember an old, old vid I saw once as a child. It was on a holo-archive in this small library, tucked away from the throngs of people who called New Wisbech their home; amidst the emerald planet of Cambridge, where researchers were as numerous as the farmers, this was a place of respite away from the reality of hard scientific facts and no-nonsense rhetoric. The vid was a film, dated from far back in the Sol Sector, circa 1963. It was called Jason and the Argonauts, and I can still firmly say that this singular film set deep within me a yearning for something more than simple life. Greek mythology always had a flair for the dramatic, the archetype of heroes and villains, and a lesson to teach; this was the stuff of fantasy, an impossible journey for a fabled treasure that set Jason against monsters, gods, and even his fellow man. I couldn't help but let my own imagination run wild, entertaining even the faintest possibility that somewhere deep in the cosmos were untold treasures waiting to be found, monstrous hydras that plagued hapless starships and their crews, and entities of grand power who still had all the shortcomings of human nature.
In spite of the fantasy and dreams, time moves forward relentlessly. With it comes the weight of responsibility, and the near-impossibility of avoiding reality. Over the course of my education I had the displeasure of picking apart Greek mythology in an Ancient Earth History class, seeing this treasure of a story being turned into nothing more than academic musings. Despite this, the pure fictional value of the Argonauts was sequestered in the back of my mind; to me, there existed no greater journey in life.
------------------------------------------
Log 00 - Part I
February 12, 817 AS
Of all the things in the universe that passed time the least, blasting apart space rocks topped the list. In the very least, it was in the top three; staff meetings aboard Java seemed to have this mysterious ability to stop time entirely. Jason would've easily nodded off right out of his seat were it not for the timely, vocal intervention of his first mate. "Captain Anderson, you have a priority-4 comm channel waiting....Captain?" Jason snorted as he jerked awake, hazel eyes wavering back and forth as they tried to focus on something through the haze of weariness. "Patch it through, Mr. Richards." Phil nodded and signaled to the operations officer who wasted no time in opening the comm on the bridge's vid display, much to chagrin of Jason as he was in mid-yawn just as the face of his shift's overseer appeared. "It's a pleasure to see you alert and active, Mr. Anderson." Jason already had a feeling this conversation was going to go put him in a drinking mood again.
"Absolutely, Sir. One never knows when the asteroids might start hitting back."
"Be thankful your performance records are as sharp as your tongue, Mr. Anderson, or I would've personally seen that you be reassigned to cleaning out the particle filters on the mining ships."
"Sir, I'm honored that you've taken a personal interest in my career progression."
Phil snickered a bit, trying to hide the smirk by staring down at his datapad. The overseer would've practically cut him in half with his glare.
"Haul that miserable excuse of a ship back to dock, the Colonials are moving a task group through and I don't want to fill out an accident report when you get side-swiped by a Zephyr."
"I'll take your concern to heart, Sir. I appreciate it, I really do."
The overseer just about stretched his mouth open as far as it could, thin strands of spittle strung between his lips; before the audio repercussions hit home, the comm screen flickered off and Jason shifted in his seat to look at the operations officer. He smiled and nodded, and Jason mouthed to him 'thank you'. His previous grievance to Jason had just been erased.
"Helm, thirty-two degrees to starboard and one-quarter impulse. Set a course for Java and take us home."
"Aye, Sir. Thirty-two to starboard and steady running."
The Roebuck rotated ponderously, the closest thing to a pregnant whale in space. Creaks and moans from the superstructure echoed throughout the corridors of the mining vessel as quick, short blue-white bursts of energy shot out from the maneuvering verniers. It wasn't the grandest mining vessel that was registered with the IMG resource fleet, a miraculous patchwork of spot-welding, duct tape, and good intentions. Nevertheless, it was Jason's mining ship and she had served him well for the past eight years. The return trip took only fifteen minutes, but he savored every minute as the ship rocked gently with each asteroid fragment that ricocheted off the shields; in his ears was the muffled roar of white waves and the distinct, saline smell of ocean water was in the air.
"There are times I wonder why I retired from the Armed Forces." Jason didn't necessarily need to turn to see Phil roll his eyes. This topic of conversation had become painfully common, almost to the point of routine, every time they sat down in the cantina on Java. "Just keep drinking, Anderson, I'm sure you'll recall the answer before you pass out." Jason was about to say something, but he already had his tumbler halfway up to his lips. The 'vodka' tasted more like a diluted ethanol solution one would find in a high school chemistry lab, with the smell of classy turpentine and the mouthfeel of engine lubricant. He couldn't expect much better this far away from any major population center, but the ice cubes made it a bit more bearable. Only a bit. "It was a dead end, to be honest. Upward movement would only get you so far before you hit that masterfully-crafted glass ceiling that only tenure could open. Even then, what more could one hope for, other than command of a bigger ship and a few hundred souls." Phil swirled his drink a bit, eying his glass with a bit of curiosity as to what sort of evil would coat the inside of his mouth this time. Reason prevailed this day as he set it back down.
"It's the navy, Jason. What else would you expect? Anyone could boil it down to 'I have more ribbons than you: I point, you shoot.' Anything beyond that is just details."
"Details that included my swearing loyalty to the Queen." Jason turned to gaze out through the cantina's observation window. Fate must have had a sense of humor this day as the Colonial flotilla drifted through the asteroid field, a line of metal and bright pin-points of thruster coronas roughly 600 meters away.
"But I suppose I recanted on that when I handed back my saber. God, it's been eleven years already."
"Yet it still feels like it just happened yesterday, doesn't it, Anderson?"
"When you have a war at your doorsteps, it's not the easiest thing to just brush aside. 'Out of sight, out of mind', what rubbish when you can still see it when you close your eyes to sleep."
"That's what the alcohol is for."
"This is quite true, but I still hold my liver dear."
The two of them chuckled a bit, and Jason let the ambiance of the cantina come to him; a mellow tune crackling through the ceiling speakers, the quiet banter of the other patrons with topics ranging from the day's events to tasteless jokes, dimmed lights that flickered occasionally, and the sterilized smell of recycled air mingled with cigarette smoke. Easing back more into his seat, Jason pulled out a thin datapad and set it on the table. The surface of the pad flickered to life and the rotating logo of Planetform hovered ethereally in the air. A few seconds after, it was replaced with a slideshow of grassy hills, lush forests and pristine lakes. Jason propped his elbow up on the table and rested his head on his hand, transfixed on his personal advertisement sojourn.
"Still thinking about retiring on Harris?" Phil chimed in, catching Jason just a few milliseconds before he shut out the rest of the world. "That's going to set you back quite a bit, I imagine."
Jason shrugged. "It still has another three years to go, give or take. I should have my 'next' retirement fund set up by then."
"How much do you have saved up now?"
Jason held up his free hand and flashed 2, 6, and 5 with his fingers before mouthing 'million'. Phil nodded, picking up on the fact that he didn't want to draw any unwanted attention his way.
"Why don't you settle down in Bretonia again? It shouldn't be too hard to buy a small plot just for yourself."
"I'd prefer to not live in the place where I accomplished nothing of note."
"And I suppose being a miner is a vast improvement."
"Of course. I get to spend my time with quality company such as yourself, Phil." Jason held his glass up to him and tipped his head slightly.
"Screw you, Jason."
Log Interrupted
Of Astronauts and Argonauts - Shazbot11 - 09-05-2009
Database Reconnect
Log 00 - Part II
February 13, 817 AS
Throughout the entirety of human history there always existed one problem, a devil-on-the-back that was guaranteed to plague anyone at some point in his or her life. This primal evil, through its many guises, is known as the 'morning'. Its implement of destruction: waking up. Thankfully, there exist tools to ward off the after affects of a rude awakening: a hot shower, coffee, and breakfast. Unfortunately, Jason would have none of this. Instead, he would wake up to the sunshine that is his overseer's face, screaming out warm rays of orders and quota threats over his quarter's comm system.
"Need I remind you, Mr. Anderson, that the other day you cut your shift early?"
Jason was sitting at the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, bare feet on the frigid floor, and eyes halfway open; Jason was an optimist, and thought his eyes were open enough. The overseer, on the other hand, was a pessimist and thought his eyes were closed too much.
"MR. ANDERSON, do I BORE you?"
"Please, Sir, there's no need to raise your voice when I can adjust the volume for you. You must think of the well-being of your vocal cords."
"Laugh it up, Anderson. You get to finish yesterday's AND today's shift."
Jason bolted straight up in all the glory of his boxers and undershirt, standing rigid and snapping off a salute.
"This miner would be honored, SIR!"
The overseer was about to say something, but the futility of any further discussion was so apparent that even a blind man could see it a mile away. He simply shook his head and closed the connection.
"Well then, time to give the crew another reason to love their work."
Jason tip-toed across the ice-field that was his floor. At his desk, he tapped one singular button on his personal console; throughout Java three dozen comm devices buzzed in glorious unison, with an aria of profanities that would put a philharmonic orchestra to shame.
"All are present and accounted for, Sir." Phil stood to the right of the Jason at the front of the bridge, both
facing inward to view the bright and cheery faces that sat at their respective stations. "Thank you, Mr. Richards," spoke Jason, with a smile on his face, "I hope everyone enjoyed a restful evening because we have quite the load today!" Mutters resounded throughout the bridge.
"We'll forgo the usual pre-flight pleasantries today. We're pulling double-time, a full order of 6500 units of niobium to be completed." Jason thought he heard a few 'thumps' as hearts sank.
"Then it's settled. We begin...", bringing up his right arm, Jason slid the sleeve of his shirt back to take a look at his watch, "...right now. Helm, take us out."
"Retracting mooring clamps and firing port verniers, 15-second burst." The helmsman yawned loudly, operating the flight controls with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. The Roebuck shuddered a bit as the docking collar and moor locks disconnected, followed by a steady rumble from the maneuvering thrusters. Along with a dozen other mining ships that drifted away from Java Station like leaves in a stream, the Roebuck spun about 180 degrees with graceful motion, or at least what could be considered graceful for a miner. Within a minute, the muted roar of the twin plasma-turbines on the thruster pylons bore way to acceleration into the asteroid field. Jason and Phil took their seats in the center of the bridge, both with a heavy thud. "6500 units is a huge capacity, to state the obvious," Phil chimed in with little concern in his voice, "a round-trip would waste too much time."
Jason squinted as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. "We'll just leave those damnable rocks floating, and call in an Atlas then."
"And what are the chances our magnanimous overseer will dispatch said transport to us?"
"Slim to nil, but those odds can be shifted to our favor; it doesn't take much effort record a comm message and hit the 'send' command twenty times."
"The discerning negotiator as always, Sir."
"Naturally, how else do you think I got to where I am?"
Both of them smirked, and Jason eased back further into his seat. It wasn't long before he felt a slight push behind him, a tell-tale sign of the deceleration thrusters firing. The operations officer turned around, ready to confirm what Jason already knew. "Sensor resonance has detected dense magnetic signatures within the area." He always knew how to put it so eloquently.
"Alright then, take us in to the closest rock and let's get to work."
"Aye, Sir. Deploying manipulator arms and fusion torches. All refinery personnel are to report to their stations."
The Roebuck edged in closely towards a large asteroid, about 40 meters across and 53 meters tall, though in space the orientation of length and width was relative to wherever one wanted it to be. Two lanky, metallic limbs extended out into sight from underneath the bridge's viewport, terminating in knob-like emitter nozzles. Jason couldn't help but think about how they reminded him of old robot appendages from vintage science-fiction programs: exceptionally simplified designs with the bare minimum of joints and moving parts and the dexterity of poseable figure. Granted, these robotic arms were taken to absurd proportions and capped with fusion torches that could burn through 20 meters of rock in under ten seconds at their highest setting. The Roebuck drifted to a stop in front of the asteroid, its jagged edifice dominating the bridge's forward viewport as though it actually dared to challenge them. Accepting this duel, the manipulator arms knuckled-up and unleashed a flurry of thermonuclear jabs; showers of bright-orange blobs rained from the asteroid, rapidly cooling down in the vacuum as a cascade of smooth, rounded rocks that bounced off the hull. Portions of the asteroid were eventually liberated from the whole, and tractored into the maw of the mining ship. Waiting with bated breath, or so Jason would have liked to believe, was a team of mining personnel who continued the process by cutting the chunks down to a more manageable size. The final process in this great cycle was the molecular furnace, a barely-contained chamber of hellfire that separated the useful metals from the waste rock, of which would be expelled in grand plumes of sickeningly green exhaust from the sides of the mining ship. Jason always counted his lucky stars for putting him on the bridge.
"Sir, I'm picking up a contact on the passive scanners, distance is 10 klicks out." It was only 45 minutes into the shift, but Jason didn't necessarily feel like wasting any time. "Details, Tactical. Tell me if I actually need to use my gunners today."
"Negative, Sir. The transponder is sending a Colonial IFF, ship ID CR001-Acropolis, an Argus-class Battlecruiser."
Jason sat straight, and raised an eyebrow. "I thought the task force moved out the other day. Bring it up on the viewport."
"Aye, Sir. Enlarging and enhancing the image." The officer ran his hands along his console like a finger ballad. A digital window expanded out to cover the viewport, displaying the distant warship amidst a light flurry of static. Draped along the starboard hull of the vessel was a slender pennant, running approximately a quarter of its length.
Phil glanced briefly at the image, likewise cocking an eyebrow. "That seems a bit unnecessary, especially when there's no air in space."
"It's a commissioning pennant, Mr. Richards. They're usually flown when a warship formally enters combat service. I know the Colonials are keenly interested in tradition, but I never imagined they would present this much pomp."
"If that's the case, Sir, then it does seem like it's flying in the wrong direction."
"Well, the pennant serves a dual purpose. The first is as I previously stated, the second is that it is also flown when a vessel is 'paid-off'; it signifies that the crew has served their term aboard a warship, and that it can be decommissioned."
Phil whistled appreciatively. "That's one hell of a large flag for just ceremony, then."
"It's one hell of a waste of a fine vessel." Jason relaxed is posture again, sliding down a bit in his seat. "A decommissioned ship like that is just going to end up as scrap. Probably recycled into another ship or sold off."
"That's a shame. I'm surprised they aren't offering it to the Guild, in the very least."
"Not much of a point in doing that, it'd just be some expense that the Guild wouldn't want to deal with." Jason stared at the image of the battlecruiser, watching it drift slowly away. Drifting away like an old dream.
Jason's higher consciousness didn't even register what his lower consciousness was doing, as he immediately shot up from his seat. "Operations, patch a comm over to the Acropolis, now!"
The bridge crew was almost taken aback by the sudden passion of their Captain; no words were dispensed with, just whatever actions Jason had ordered. The operations officer had to take a few seconds to gather his thoughts before sending a comm request to the Acropolis. Jason slowly walked towards the viewport, all heads following him, as "Connection Pending" flashed across it. Soon enough the message was replaced by the regal features of a Colonial commanding officer. "This is Captain Garret of the Acropolis. To whom am I speaking?"
"How much do you want for it?"
Captain Garret's eyes widened, compensated with the furrowing of his brow. "Excuse me?"
"I want to buy your vessel, how much do you want?"
It is readily apparent that someone's attention is grabbed, especially when you have the heads of the Acropolis' bridge crew leaning out to see just who the hell this man was.
Log Interrupted
Of Astronauts and Argonauts - Shazbot11 - 09-11-2009
Database Reconnect
Log 00 - Part III
February 13, 817 AS
Jason had nearly forgotten what a Captain's quarters looked like: spacious, relatively elegant with discerning taste, and packed with memoirs from the more 'innocent' days of naval academy life. He was slightly concerned that it looked almost like what he had envisioned his rendition would be, needing only to replace Captain Garret's person with his own in the photos that occupied the walls. Captain Garret himself was also taller in person than the comm video had made him out to be. A seemingly regal aura permeated his being, and Jason imagined this was one of the many perks that was bestowed upon any man or woman that commanded a ship of war. The Captain set two cups of coffee on a small table by the far corner of the chamber, and beckoned for him to take a seat; Jason was almost instantly in his designated chair, but held back just long enough for the Captain to sit first. "I must admit, Mr. Anderson, it's not everyday that one receives an offer for a vessel right over a comm channel."
"And it's not everyday that an opportunity to present an offer for a warship exists, Captain." Jason beamed back the reply with a smile.
Captain Garret chuckled softly before taking a sip from his cup. Jason followed suit, tasting the infusion slightly before drawing it in. The aroma was heavy, a hint of sweet and roasted almond, followed by a smooth taste of nuts with almost no bitterness. He just about find his new favorite flavor. After having experienced a brief moment of nirvana, Jason took the initiative.
"Despite what you may be thinking, Sir, I wholeheartedly wish to purchase this vessel."
"I'm quite aware of that, Mr. Anderson, or you wouldn't have hounded me about docking for a chat."
"Indeed, Sir. This is just the chance I was looking for, the one thing that I can affect a change with."
"Then you should also be aware that the final decision doesn't rest with me."
"That is true, but they will be more willing to listen to you than they would me."
Captain Garret leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms and staring intently at Jason; it crossed his mind that one of the Captain's commander perks was the ability to read minds or gauge the soul of a person.
"Well then, let's hear what you have to say."
Jason held his cup of coffee with both hands, briefly looking about the walls of the Captain's quarters as though the pictures and memorabilia inspired him with stories that even Garret wasn't aware of, or had forgotten. He soon returned his focus to the Captain, and proceeded.
"For the better part of my childhood, I wanted nothing more than to go on an adventure. An adventure in the purest essence of the word: to journey far in realms of uncertainty, with an open mind and open heart. In my musings I entertained the thought of joining the Bretonian Armed Forces, what seemed at that age to be just the right idea."
The Captain smiled briefly. "The innocence of youth, no?"
"More like the naivete, Captain. My Academy years wore away at the fantastic borders of my imagination until there was nothing left to hold back a great influx of reality. No adventures would be had, especially with the war. It would seem that, if anything, I was born an era too late and beyond the time when Sirius was still a great, dark continent. My time spent serving Her Majesty the Queen was in command of a patrol vessel, skirting the borders of Leeds between the planet and the free-fire zone. The only thing I've learned from that 'adventure' was how easily man can kill his fellow man."
"A distasteful profession, when one thinks about it Mr. Anderson." Captain Garret sipped his coffee before setting the cup back on the tabletop, looking down on the dark surface as his reflection gazed back at him. "Distasteful, but a necessary evil. You should have been fully aware of this long before you enrolled in the Academy."
Jason looked out the window, where the asteroid fragments were just as numerous as the pinpoints of light that dotted the black velvet of space. He knew in his heart of hearts that the Captain was correct, an infallible truth that he wished to bury beneath the reality in his own mind.
"We learn from each other, Captain. Learn by, and through, example. If such is the case, then would you, if granted the opportunity, set a new example?" The Captain cocked an eyebrow, but the interest gleamed in his eyes. Jason found renewed motivation.
"I wish to command this ship of war, but not for war against man. No, the enemy I wish to challenge is the darkness of the unknown, those facets of the mind which press upon us ignorance. Indeed, this ship will be like those ancient sojourners from the far and away days of Earth, those who left the sanctity of familiar realms to enter the unknown."
"An exploration vessel, is it? And just what do you wish to accomplish with that?"
"There is no accomplishment to be had, Sir; to set a goal would denote that there is an end to the journey, and that is a reality I cannot, and will not accept. For the sake of comprehension, though, a goal must be 'said', but not necessarily established. If this is the case, then I will 'say' that my goal is to wash away ignorance: it is a task so lofty that it may as well be considered non-existent. What comes of it, I cannot say, but I will be able to rest easily knowing that I am doing some good, something other than wasting away on inaction."
Jason, in all his years, never believed he could draw up such fervor; the passion with which he incarnated his dreams with stemmed from the truth. This is what his adventure will be, birthed from the imagination of a child and tempered through maturity. Captain Garret smiled widely as he imprinted the image of the man sitting in front of him in his memory.
"Mr. Anderson, I believe your suggestion is so incredibly fantastic that it just might actually accomplish something. Very well then, you have my support."
Captain Garret slid his seat back and stood up, Jason following shortly thereafter. The walk back to the docking collar was filled with the stories of younger times, and laughter like children.
"Well, Sir, I imagine everything went well?" Phil's observation of Jason's massive grin was painfully astute, as usual.
"Indeed it did! So nice of you to notice, now I remember why I made you my executive officer." Jason proceeded to the front of the bridge aboard the Roebuck, facing the rest of the crew as they returned his gaze with their own. "Open a ship-wide comm, please."
"Yes Sir. PA comm is open."
"This is Captain Anderson speaking, and I would like to ask a favor of all of you. A great undertaking has just been set into motion, one that cannot be accomplished by me alone. The Roebuck may not be in service for much longer, and I understand that many of you have staked livelihoods within this vessel. I apologize deeply for this, I truly do. Despite what you may think, though, I am prepared to present all of you with a new opportunity: a chance to serve aboard a new vessel with a new purpose. It will operate in systems that are not quite home, away from family and friends alike. This is relative to your own lives and experiences, for there exists the new possibility of new friends and new families. I cannot present you with all the details right now, but I ask, I beg that you spend the next seven days considering it. I apologize again with the suddenness and brevity of this request, but know that you will forever have my gratitude."
Jason nodded to the comms officer before returning to his seat. Phil sat down next to him, and leaned in to whisper. "Are you even sure the Coalition will let you buy the ship?"
"Captain Garret is a good man, Phil. He'll pull through, I'm sure of it."
Phil nodded before leaning back. He knew that Jason was dead set on this, and that no amount of arguing would change that. It was that headstrong attitude that Phil knew was what pulled Jason through the day.
"Helm, take us home."
"Aye, locking in a course for Java."
The return trip was passed in silence, but within Jason's mind he heard the conversation with the Captain over and over again. There was much planning to be done.
The hour was exceptionally late as Jason posted up messages on the Guild's neural net, calling for any and all who were interested in his adventure. He had received many other messages in the interim, from crewmen who promised continued support and others that simply could not condone what he was doing. Regardless of the responses, he pressed on; time lost also equaled opportunities missed. The overseer was understandably annoyed with Jason's decision, but there was not much he could actually do. In a rare display of decency, he even offered to purchase the Roebuck from Jason as it would 'prove more valuable than his worthless hide'. As his consciousness skimmed the boundary of sleep, a message alert popped up on his console screen. It had all the formality one would find in a military document, and Jason wasted no time in opening it.
"My dear Jason, enclosed in this message is the routing number for the Colonial's military account. Please forward the requested funds at your earliest convenience; the Singapore Shipyard has offered to perform the necessary refit. I suggest you use the time to assemble the necessary crew and supplies for this adventure, and I wish you the best of luck.
Your friend, and adventurer,
Garret."
Your friend, and adventurer,
Garret."
A smile crept onto his face as his head slowly came down on to the surface of the desk. He slept through the night, without a care in the world.
Of Astronauts and Argonauts - Shazbot11 - 09-15-2009
Database Reconnect
Log 00 - Part IV
September 08, 817 AS
Anticipation can create a dazzling array of feelings within someone, from the thumping of one's heart, the 'butterfly' sensation in the gut, and an incredible difficulty in staying still. Jason could assemble a whole catalog of what was going through him during the shuttle flight to Singapore Shipyard, with each and every minute he kept raising the same question over and over again in his mind: are we there yet? He could only imagine what everyone else was thinking about at the same moment in the three shuttles that followed behind, one hundred and thirty souls that had their own dreams, expectations, and hopes. Phil, who Jason knew as level-headed and icy calm, fidgeted a bit in his seat as well. Jason smirked at that observation; he would be sure never to let Phil live it down. "What's the matter, old friend, nervous?"
Phil scowled a bit before clearing his throat. "I just need to use the restroom, that's all."
"It's in the stern of the shuttle, Phil."
"I don't like those bathrooms. They're too small, and make me claustrophobic."
Jason laughed a bit before relaxing back into his seat. "For the longest time I had this notion that perhaps my dreams were nothing more than just that. It's hard to believe that just six months ago I had resigned myself to a simple life, content that nothing extraordinary was ever accomplished. But today, oh I would never have foreseen something like this."
"There's still much work to be done, Jason. All we're doing at this point is moving a lot of people onto a different ship and taking her through her motions. After that, well, that's up to fate to decide."
"Absolutely, Phil. This is just one stepping stone, but I look forward to whatever it is we will find out there in Sirius. After all, a dream isn't a dream if it can be so easily achieved."
The PA system chimed, a simple electronic 'ding' that emanated from each of the ceiling-mounted speakers simultaneously. All things considered it was a rather generic sound, but it carried the power to hush everyone in the shuttle. "We will be arriving at Singapore Shipyard within five minutes. Please be sure to take all of your belongings before departing." Jason practically plastered his face against the small window next to his seat, thinking only afterward that he may have potentially cracked the glass. Outside, beyond the purple veil of the nebula were the massive dry dock carriages of Singapore. Bright dots of light flickered strongly amongst the hulks of the warships being assembled in the shipyard, each one representing a different stage of the construction process. One carriage stood out in particular, though: fresh red paint covered the hull and white light shone through the viewing ports toward the bow. Amidst the dull greys the Argus-class stood as a symbol of the Colonial's ingenuity for elegant and effective ship design; the icing on the cake was that this particular vessel was his.
"Ah, Mr. Anderson, welcome aboard." Garret stood at the fore of the bridge, hands clasped behind his back as he smiled to him and Phil. Jason immediately stopped and snapped off a salute to the Captain, with Phil following suit as well. "Sir, permission to enter the bridge." Garret chuckled, waving one had at them. "Please, no need for such formalities. This is no longer my vessel, Captain Anderson." Jason couldn't help but smile; it was almost nine years since someone last called him Captain on a naval vessel. Garret motioned for them to examine the bridge, and Jason graciously took the offer. Each station was in pristine condition, almost as though they were disassembled and pieced back together with new components; some even had plastic films covering their consoles, waiting to be peeled away for their first use. Jason though he could even detect that 'new ship' smell in the air, though that may just have been an effect of the recirculation system. Phil was already walking around his own seat, scrutinizing every detail on it before finally sitting down. He let out a soft sigh of contentment, and gave Jason a thumbs-up. The rest of the bridge crew started to pile in, each one stopping for a few seconds to take in the new environment before proceeding to their designated stations. Garret set his hand on Jason's shoulder and nodded to him. "I believe that the Captain should speak his first words to his crew." Jason smiled, though he quivered a bit with nervousness. The walk to his seat seemed longer than usual, sitting down slowly and hovering his hand above the arm console before finally opening the channel.
"This is Captain Anderson. I would like to thank all of you who have chosen to serve aboard this new vessel, and am deeply grateful for your dedication. Within the next 30 minutes, we will be departing from Omega-44 and Tau-23. We will be leaving our home, our friends, and our families, but aboard this ship we have a new home, and friends. By the end of this journey, we may even be a new family. This is an aspect of growth, a social growth, but is just one facet of the greater journey ahead of us. Our voyage will show us intellectual growth, philosophical growth, and as many others as there are stars in the heavens. We grow because we learn, and learning is our goal on this vessel: to learn about ourselves, others, and the universe around us. Like the Argonauts of ancient myth we will set out on an adventure to find the greatest treasure of them all: knowledge. It is a treasure we will share with anyone who wishes it, such is the right of all. To deny knowledge is to subject one to the darkness of ignorance, a cruel fate that renders us as humans miserable. I want each and everyone one of you to think of a question, be it about yourselves or a science or something absolutely abstract. I personally guarantee you that you will know the answer by the time we return, and then some. Amongst this sea of stars, we will all find our answers. Thank you."
Jason closed the comm channel, and looked around the bridge. At each angle he found a smiling face, looks of determination. When Garret finally came into view, he had the widest smile of them all. "I have no doubt that you will be a fine Captain again, Jason. This vessel's new lease on life is indeed a blessing."
"Thank you, Garret, for this opportunity and your support."
"No need to thank me, Captain. This is now your vessel, and your journey. My adventure is with Command, so I won't hold you up any longer."
Jason and Phil stood to give one last salute to Garret before he departed. Jason looked about the bridge again as the lights of life and the sounds of a breathing vessel surrounded him. He leaned back into his seat, and looked through the forward viewport, seeing in his mind's eye the universe ahead of him. "Sir," Phil leaned in to whisper, "you still have to undock." Jason shook his head, snapping himself back to reality. "It's not exactly graceful, but I suppose every adventure started with leaving port, no?" Jason straightened himself in his seat, and grinned widely.
"Crew of the Argo Navis, prepare to launch."
Log 00 - End