Francisco de Orellana

[Francisco_de_Orellana]

Neural net information: Francisco de Orellana

The Death of Francisco de Orellana

Francisco de Orellana is dead. That's what the history books say. His brothers drank to his memory and his parents mourned his loss. All of Crete attended his bodiless funeral nearly twenty years ago.

In his prime, Orellana had been a great explorer, mapping huge chunks of Sirius, beaming data back to his brothers on Crete, discovering routes that were still used to this day. He had delved further into the dark unknowns than any Corsair. The rewards were spectacular, the risks astronomical.

Orellana had successfully navigated through Outcast space, avoiding patrols, avoiding transmissions, often powering down the ship to sit secretly, quietly in the cold, sometimes waiting days to make a move uninterrupted. Omicron Alpha was known. Its facets and stations plotted. Patrol routes noted. Omicron 80 was no longer a mystery. A minefield of unknown construction prevented further exploration in one direction. A mystery for another day. On the other side of the system, another jump hole, well used by the outcasts and well guarded invited further enquiry. Careless outcast transmissions told him that the other side of the jump hole, Omicron 81, was equally well guarded.
Orellana prepared his ship. He would appear to be a stray piece of debris, tumbling into the jump hole like so much space dust. The course was set, the computers powered down and with a blast from a single off-axis thruster, the dead ship tumbled slowly towards the jump hole.

Outcast gunners breifly looked upon at the tangled metal, scanned and saw nothing but dead scrap. No power, no life support, no life signs, nothing salvageable. It floated into the jump hole and was gone. On the other side, it emerged and floated away from the jumphole guards. Three hours later, Orellana emerged from the lead lined capsule that shielded him from scans and the untempered harshness of space. Thirty K from the nearest signal. Perfect. He powered up the computers, and turned on the scanners, reading out the headline data to his note-taker.
“Binary system. Three planets, one terraformed and farmed, but no docking facilities. Four stations including one shipyard, advanced type, significantly larger than the facilities at Tripoli and clearly assembling many capital ships simultaneously. Large nebula occupying approx one quarter of system. Opaque to sensors”

He set a careful course towards the nebula. Nebulae often hid the most spectacular finds and the cover of sensor darkness meant a place to hide and take notes. Green gasses brushed past the cockpit as he entered, external probes showed the presence of alien organisms in massive concentrations. Orellana took a sample, wondering if these would be similar to the ones on Kurile.

The ship creaked and Orellana stumbled to the side. There was a gravity well nearby. Sensors were blank, confused by the living fog. He sighed and turned to the engineering panel to bring the engines up to full power and move away from the gravity well. Nothing. Orellana swore loudly. Something must have gone whilst the ship was powered down through the jump hole.
Still, it wasn't a star or planet, the sensors would have detected that, even in the nebula. A jump hole perhaps?
Turning off the station keeping thrusters and allowing the ship to move towards the gravity well, he stared at the computers. It was soon in view. A stable jump hole, destination unknown. “Might as well” he thought, hoping that it would lead to an easier way back to Omicron Alpha, perhaps even a route that his brothers could take to destroy that ship-yard.

Orellana was always cautious, that's why he was still alive. The dead ship ruse would do. He sealed himself within the lead-lined life support capsule as the ship went through the jump hole. Omicron 82. He'd discovered it. He'd be a hero when he transmitted this data.

The little ship appeared in Omicron 82. A system of towering rocky fragments of dark matter hanging in dark space. All was quiet.
Orellana opened the capsule a crack and checked outside. He saw nothing but rock. Exiting the capsule he flicked on the sensors.
“Highly radioactive system, no local star, large station or small planet at the centre of the system. Second jump hole consistent with one in Omicron Alpha. Four large weapon platforms of unknown construction, unknown armament. All powering up and targeting... Oh.”

No Corsair fears death, but all will fight to put it off as long as possible. Orellana was no different. As four large missiles screamed towards his little craft Orellana grabbed his latest data stick and dived into his capsule as the first of the missiles hit. It immediately breached the hull and he felt his flesh sear as the cockpit was engulfed by fire. The capsule sealed and he hit the eject button. The sound of loud explosions was replaced by a deafening silence as he passed into cold space.
A sharp thrust and the capsule was flung back the way it came, following its programme mindlessly, retracing its mothership's steps back in the search for home. It passed through the jumphole into Omicron 81 and flung him out of the gaseous cloud towards the Omicron 80 hole. The pod bounced as it hit a chunk of debris, Orellana's skull connected with the capsule wall with a sickening crack.

The universe went black and Francisco de Orellana thought no more.