Surefoot 09: Rising Star

*

Shuttlecraft Sureswift, Sigma Lambda System:

"You're an idiot," Nancy told Jonas.

Jonas sat there at the table, not quite sure how to respond. His mouth opened, then closed, and then he looked to Rrori, who suggested, "A little harsh there, Nancy?"

She dropped the PADD Jonas had proffered. "So Soo has to run the scans on the environmental and life support systems, I get the weapons, shuttle and engineering support, and you give yourself the warp and impulse drives? How very convenient."

"I don't mind doing the environment and life support-" Soolamea began.

Her friend cut her off, pointing at Jonas. "Where do you get off giving yourself the best part of the ship to detail for the report?"

He tensed. His attempts to get friendly with Yeager had been about as successful as his attempt to learn unarmed combat from Neraxis and Eydiir. She had rebuffed his attempts at small talk as they entered the system, he ended up spattering satay sauce on her uniform when they had dinner, and the music she seemed to prefer sounded to Jonas like cats undergoing surgery without anaesthetic.

And now she was questioning just about every decision he had made regarding the allocation of study of the DY vessel. "I- I didn't plan it that way, Nancy, I promise. I had my reasons-"

"My family's been in Starfleet for twelve generations! Three of them working in the Starfleet Starship Museum over Titan! I've played in the original Engineering Room of the USS Lexington! And you, some Frontier Brat, think you're better qualified to scan this DY's drives than me?"

"We don't even know how much of the ship is still intact," Rrori pointed out. "It could be that the things you'll be detailing will be the most comprehensive and interesting. As for the reasons for his choices, why don't you shut up for a moment and give him a chance to get a word in?"

Yeager glared at the Caitian - but stopped talking.

Jonas swallowed. "I chose Soo to focus on the environmental and life support systems because she lived with her parents on the hospital ship Galeka, and wrote an excellent paper last term on the problems with recycler systems on early explorer ships."

The Rigelian girl's skin turned a lighter shade of green. "You read that?"

He nodded. "Yes, it was very good. And I didn't give you the propulsion systems, Nancy, because though I know you practically grew up in the Museum at Titan, most of the vessels and surviving units and drives there were post-Twenty-First Century. I've actually helped salvage three DY-Class ships converted into robot freighters and since decommissioned. Since the passing grade for this is going to be higher than usual, I thought we should all play to our strengths. It wasn't meant as a slight against you. But if you want the drives, you can have them."

She glared at him. sneered. "Is that your plan? You be generous and give me what I want, and later I'd be so grateful I'd let you get into my pants?"

"What?" He blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"It's why Furball really arranged all this, so he and Soo could take advantage of the private sleeping compartment - and so you could get laid."

Jonas went beetroot, looking to Rrori. "That's not true - is it?"

"Of course not, my friend." But there was something in his eyes that told Jonas different.

"Sure it is," Nancy assured him. "I suppose that's the only way you'll get some."

"Nancy!" Soolamea scolded.

"That's uncalled for," Rrori growled, his gaze narrowing at her.

Jonas felt his temperature double, and he fought the urge to get up and walk away, as he employed the calming techniques Kami had taught him. "If you want to take on the propulsion systems, Nancy, by all means, do so. Do it all, if you want. There are no strings attached." He dropped his own PADD noisily on the table. "I don't want anything from you. In fact I wish I'd never come out here."

The group went quiet. And then Rrori cleared his throat. "Listen, there is no reason why we cannot get this done fairly quickly, and then take advantage of the replicator and the entertainment centre - and especially the solitude - to relax for a few hours." He looked at Soolamea and purred, though it did little to ease the tension among them.

An alert signal from the cockpit drew their attention, both of them rising to move forward. The view from the cockpit window was dominated by the small white star of Sigma Lambda, and a handful of barely-visible planets.

Rrori took the pilot's seat. "The ship appears to be in orbit around the second planet: M-Class, basic vegetation and animal life according to a planetary survey made 50 years ago. I'm taking us there."

Soolamea nodded. "No one's bothered to colonise it?"

"I suppose there are better places on more travelled paths." Jonas made a contemplative sound. "Let's see if we can get an ID on the ship this close. The fuselage appears intact... possessing the larger additional fuel and supply rings typical of the later models, 800- or 900-Series... Nancy, could you run the check of the Ship Registry Database to identify it?"

"What, don't you want to claim that as well?"

"Please, just do it. It's definitely a DY-900 Class-"

"I can see that for myself!"

"Meanwhile," Rrori noted, "I'll prepare the equipment to get the stick removed from Nancy's ass."

"Why don't you- wait...!"

"Wait? Wait for what?"

But she stayed fixed on her screen. "No. NO."

"What is it?" Jonas asked, concerned.

She didn't answer, until the rest of them were looking in her direction. She had gone pale as she looked back. "There's only one DY-900 unaccounted for: the SS Rising Star."

Rrori and Soo exchanged bemused glances, but Jonas recognised the name, albeit vaguely. "That was the... Russian ship, wasn't it?"

"Toralski," Yeager practically spat. "Formerly Eastern Russia."

"I'm... not familiar with it," Soolamea admitted, Rrori nodding in solidarity.

Jonas was about to access the historical database for further details - but Nancy answered, without consulting any computer. "The SS Rising Star was a vessel registered to the Republic of Toralsk, the final surviving member of the Eastern Coalition, which started the Third World War in the 2050s. It was owned by an industrialist named Maxim Yurievich Golov-"

"What did he own, the Rising Star or the Republic?"

"Both. Golov had made his fortune in munitions, fusion power and media outlets. What no one knew at the time was that he was also the founder and financier of a xenophobic terrorist operation, opposed to the non-Terrans who had begun visiting Earth in the wake of Vulcan's First Contact in 2063."

"Why would anyone object to us?" Rrori asked.

"For a lot of humans, it was pure primitive fear of the unknown, the Alien; generations of pop culture marking extraterrestrials as threats hadn't helped. In Golov's case, however, it was later theorised by historians that he had financial reasons: he refused to adapt to the post-War reformations, was losing money in munitions as Terran nations began uniting, and non-Terran technology proved more popular than what his other companies were offering.

He used his money and influence to engineer attacks throughout the world, blaming them through his media outlets on 'Aliens'. The most horrendous of these was a retrovirus he unleashed in places throughout Europe, Asia and Africa, at the start of 2100. Before a cure was found, over a hundred thousand people had died.

But even his power and influence couldn't protect him for long, and when he was found out, and the security forces of the European Hegemony were moving against him at his stronghold, he escaped justice in the Rising Star, along with a group of his devoted followers, on January 5, 2107. The United Earth Space Probe Agency tried to keep track of the vessel, but lost it after it passed through the Oort Cloud. It was believed destroyed."

The others stared at her in silence, before Jonas noted, "That was impressive. I knew you were brilliant at Terran history, but-"

Her face tightened. "Save it, Ostrow. Let's get back to studying this thing."

Jonas glanced at Rrori and Soolamea before returning to the scans. The ship was exactly like the schematics - and the model he made as a boy: a large central cylinder with various surrounding rings and spheres both fore and aft, a primitive deflector dish, large dorsal and ventral radiator fins, and a set of Dyson-Yoyodine fusion engines flanked by two squat warp nacelles. And in case there was any doubt about its identity, the markings SS RISING STAR DY-900-126 were emblazoned along the hull in Old English.

More bloated and functional-looking than the later Starfleet designs, but it had a vintage charm all its own. He could temporarily forget the tension in the air to marvel at it. "It looks quite intact, considering what it's gone through." He frowned. "And... functional? The drives are shut down, but the manoeuvring thrusters are still operating to maintain an orbit, and the thoron generator is still on-line, though I'm picking up a leak in its coil. Soo, what are you reading?"

Soolamea's fingers danced over the panel before her. "Environmental systems are fully functional; I'm getting... life readings. Active."

The others looked to her, Yeager responding first with, "What the hell are you saying?"

"I'm saying the ship is inhabited. About a dozen or more lifesigns, and many more in stasis. I can't be more precise with the thoron interference."

"Nancy, was the Rising Star a sleeper ship?" Jonas asked, quickly amending, "Stupid question, it had to have been, the warp drive it possessed meant a journey even to the nearest system would have taken-"

"They can't be alive!" Yeager snapped. "Not after two hundred and fifty years of cryostasis!"

"It's unlikely," Soolamea admitted. "But not impossible. My parents studied long-term stasis with the Botany Bay, and that had even older systems-"

"It's just scavengers over there! Low-rent scavengers who found the wreck and are trying to get it working!"

"Where's their own ship, then?" Jonas pointed out. "They had to have come out here in something."

"Wait," Rrori noted, "I'm picking up a small spacecraft on the surface, with two humanoid lifeforms."

"Yes," Jonas agreed. "These ships were equipped with shuttlepods, to make planetfall and conduct surveys to choose a suitable landing spot for the main ship-"

"You really expect us to believe that Golov and his band of followers would have survived over 250 years to get here?" Yeager demanded. "Have you gone crazy again?"

Now he turned to face her. "What do you mean, 'again'?"

Before she could respond, a Red Alert flashed on the main display. Rrori checked it out. "Shields have snapped on! They've detected us, locking weapons!"

"Rrori, take evasive action!" Jonas ordered. "Get us out of here!"

"What for? They only have laser cannons. Those things couldn't even penetrate our hull's refractory coating, let alone our shields."

"That doesn't matter, we're leaving, we don't want to antagonise them further. Soo, raise the Surefoot, inform them of this-"

"Jonas, calm down," Rrori told him, taking no action. "You're getting worked up-"

Suddenly a flash from the window drew their attention, as a small, silent explosion blossomed on the fore end of the ship, sending it into a gentle, but uncontrolled spin.

"What was that?" Soolamea asked.

"A power coupling overloaded. There's damage, minor hull breaches. There are people trapped inside." Jonas looked to Rrori. "Do you think the others can get them out in time?"

"I'm picking up a transmission," Soolamea reported, before Rrori could respond. "Real-space radio band, aimed at the planet below. I'm piping it in now..."

A young woman's pained, plaintive voice filled the cockpit. "Shuttlepod, this is Rising Star! Alien vessel has attacked us!"

"We never attacked them!" Rrori exclaimed.

"Shh," Jonas hushed him, listening further to the communications.

"Our weapons systems are disabled! Requesting shuttle support! Repeat: requesting shuttle support! Shuttlepod, please respond!"

Seconds later, a young man's voice replied. "Rising Star, this is Shuttlepod: we are readying for launch, Colonel, but ETA will be four hours."

The girl's voice returned, the resignation in her words heartbreaking. "Stand down. Stay on the surface. Protect yourselves. We'll hold the Aliens off as long as we can. Long Live Humanity. Rising Star out."

Jonas sat there, looking across at the energy coruscating like blood from an arterial wound from the damaged part of the ancient ship. He felt the sweat beading down his back despite the cooling properties of his uniform. "Can we get a transporter lock on those people trapped in the fore section?"

Rrori glanced at him for a moment, before checking his readings. "Not a safe one; the thoron interference is too great."

"But we should be able to beam someone over there from here with less trouble?" He said it like a question, though he already knew the answer.

The Caitian looked at him. "Jonas, you're not thinking of going over there, are you? It's too dangerous." He leaned in closer. "Listen, you're getting in over your head. Let me take over, I can manage this."

He barely listened, but continued to stare out there. Lives were at stake. Not their own lives, but others, and hardly the crème de la crème of humanity, if Nancy was correct. But lives nonetheless.

What would Captain Hrelle do?

He didn't know for certain. But Jonas knew what he had to do. He reached out and opened a channel. "Rising Star, this is Starfleet shuttlecraft Sureswift. We are a non-hostile vessel, we are not here to attack you. We wish to offer assistance. Please respond."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Yeager demanded. "Rrori, take over, he's losing his grip."

Jonas ignored them. "Rising Star, this is the Starfleet shuttlecraft Sureswift. We wish to offer assistance. Please respond."

Then he received a response. "Who is this? Identify yourself!"

"This is... Mission Commander Jonas Ostrow."

"Are you from Earth? Are you human?"

He paused; a full explanation of his family history from when they left Earth a century before and eventually found themselves at the Outer Rim of the Federation would naturally take too long. "Yes, to both questions."

"Prove it!"

He frowned in thought, desperately choosing some references identifiable to people from two hundred and fifty years ago. "My family originated in Warsaw, Poland, though my last address was in San Francisco-"

"My God, humans! We thought we might be the last! This is amazing!" The shock and relief in her voice was almost palpable, before she snapped back into a sense of professionalism. "Yes, you have permission to dock at Airlock 1, Aft Ventral side-"

"There's no need for that. We have a..." He sought an appropriate alternate name for the transporter, selecting one that was a dreadful oversimplification of the process, but which would do for now. "A matter-energy teleporter that can carry us from our ship to yours. We will appear in your presence in one minute, unarmed, with a medical and engineering kit. Will that be acceptable?"

There was a pause, and then, "Yes. But no tricks. Rising Star out."

Jonas breathed in, rising onto legs that weren't as stable as he would have preferred. "Rrori, you're in command until we return; take no action against them, even if you think my life is at risk."

Rrori stood up as well. "Jonas, you can't go over there unarmed; there are regulations against it! They're hostile, they outnumber you, and you're not combat-trained-"

"Which means the most likely outcome will be that if I go over there armed they end up with my phaser." To Soolamea he directed, "You should be able to beam us over there, and once we get the thoron interference dropped, you can beam us back. Nancy, grab the medical kit."

"No."

He looked at Yeager. "Pardon?"

She crossed her arms. "You heard me. I'm not going over there."

He stared, confused. "Nancy, they need our help. They wouldn't have injuries if it wasn't for us being here. We have a duty to assist them."

"I don't have a duty. They're terrorist scum."

Everyone seemed to hold their breath at the stand-off, and Jonas had to struggle to control himself in the face of such abject confrontation. "Nancy, I understand you're scared, I'm scared, too, but-"

"I'm not scared. They just don't deserve our help. Suicide might be *your* hobby, but you're not getting me killed the way you almost did Kit."

Jonas froze, his whole body tightening at the blatantly insulting remarks. "Nancy... I'm making this a direct order."

She sneered. "Stick your direct order up your ass."

Jonas felt himself turn shades of red he never thought possible in nature, worsening as he glanced at Rrori and Soolamea. "Fine. I'll go alone."

"No," Soolamea protested. "You need someone with you. Regulations-"

He shot a withering glance at an unrepentant Yeager. "I was planning on having someone with me. But I can't take a non-Terran along, given how they feel. It's my decision, my risk, my responsibility. Will you operate the transporter please, Soo?"

"Of course."

He moved alone to the equipment locker and retrieved an engineering and medical kit, slinging them under each arm, his hands gripping the shoulder straps tightly. "I'll keep a channel open. Who knows? Maybe they'll be so grateful they'll let us take a tour of the ship afterwards? Think of the quality of the report we could hand in to T'Varik."

His bravado sounded hollow, even to him. It made Rrori's plea, "Be careful, my friend," all the more plaintive.

Jonas moved to the single-unit transporter alcove in the rear of the shuttle, wondering where all this fortitude had come from, and why he never accessed it before now.

*

He noticed the slight difference in gravity right away, the plating system they used in these ships being crude in comparison with more modern vessels. The interior was darker, more modular in design, though the symmetry was broken by debris hanging here and there overhead like Spanish moss. A half-dozen figures in oatmeal-coloured jumpsuits had been working, but now turned and stared in astonishment as he materialised in the centre of the room.

Then they all drew stubby black pistols and pointed them at him.

"Wait," he called out, holding his hands out but otherwise making no sudden moves. "Don't shoot! My name's Jonas Ostrow! I'm expected!"

"No one fire," said a familiar female voice. He glanced to his left, taking in a gaunt, pale girl about his age, with bright hazel eyes, a prominent nose, dark lips and a burr of honey-blonde hair. Her jumpsuit was like the others, but with additional insignia and epaulettes. She drew closer, her look severe and suspicious. "You're human?"

"Very."

"Some Aliens are known to look human," one of the young men accused. "Maybe we should run a DNA test on him first?"

Jonas looked around him. They were all about his age, or younger; in fact, some looked no more than fourteen, wearing modified adult jumpsuits. "If you want. Maybe those trapped and injured people might even survive long enough for you to confirm the results?"

She frowned, looking over his mustard and black uniform. "What branch of the military are you affiliated with?"

"I'm an Engineering Cadet with-"

"A cadet? You're only a cadet?"

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't make me feel like a child, I get enough of that already. I'm with Starfleet."

"I am not familiar with that."

"I'm not surprised, it was founded after you left Earth. It's the exploration and defence arm of the United Federation of Planets."

Her face tightened. "You said you were from Earth!"

"Earth is a founding member of the Federation; it's been around for nearly two hundred years. Look- Uh, what was your name? I didn't catch it."