Amphibians Ascendant

[sabre1]

Oi,

Welcome back!

[oi]

Stardate 2299. Science Officer Alytes cabin, 2240 hours. Lt Alytes absently sips from his now tepid cup of Bucero juice, as he stares at his oversized computer screen. In the upper right hand corner is a screen within a screen, showing the present coordinates and course of Aurora. In the upper left hand corner is a long range scan of the Virgo system, now just under half a day's travel distant. Alytes had looked at the image in detail earlier, and after electronically blocking out the now visible disk of the star, noted a pair of tiny specks nearly lost in the diffuse glow several star diameters away on the left hand side. After notifying the Captain that the Virgo system contained planets (and that they would be busy tomorrow), Alytes knew that he should be hitting the sack early, yet still he sat in front of the main screen, which was replaying Aurora's approach to the Hyginus system. It was silly, he told himself, but as a scientist, tiny thoughts kept welling up into his consciousness, reminding him to go back and look. "Look for what?" he muttered. Aurora was passing just above a small asteroid belt, on its course for planet Hyginus-3, when he noticed a small comet in the midst of the belt. He stopped the recording and zoomed in on the comet. It was rather small, oblong, and nondescript, less than 1 km in its longest axis. Following his intuition rather than any logic, he quickly had the computer print out the orbital elements. The result was a bit puzzling. Most comets have parabolic orbits, racing in from far out in the outer edge of the star's gravity, to come close to the parent star, when heat can boil off a portion of their icy exterior. This comet's orbit was different, nearly circular, and confined to the small asteroid belt. He next calculated the amount of outgasing from the comet. Based on the amount of material being lost per second, (and its small size) this comet would completely melt away in less than two or three amphibian lifetimes. It should not really be there. At high magnification, he slowly forwarded the recording to examine the object through a full rotation. With a smile of satisfaction, and the burst of adrenaline that always comes from a discovery (no matter how small), he noted that most of the emission was coming from a single site. The mystery was solved. Most of the object's surface was composed of a material protective of the icy interior. But apparently a recent collision with a small rock had punched through the insulating exterior shell and exposed the dirty ice water underneath to the heat of Hyginus, triggering the cometary outburst. Alytes stared at the now very cold cup of bucero juice and laughed to himself. The life of a scientist followed a lifetime of study, most of the time other amphibians looked at you strangely, you probably did look a little strange, and yet by following the faintest tendril of an internal feeling he had reaped the reward of a discovery. He laughed to himself, knowing that no one (amphibian or otherwise) would be interested in the slightest about the tiny comet of Hyginus, yet tonight he would sleep well.

[oi]

Stardate 2300. Captain's Ready Room, 0720. Captain Rana stared for the tenth time at the damage control report list glowing on his data pad. Naturally, he had hoped for better news after the long trip from Hyginus. Aurora was clearly banged up and badly in need of a little rest and recovery, but this mission to Virgo was necessary to exploit its potential freighter route for the new colony Eridani III. Now, as a result, he had to stretch his tired crew for one more series of explorations, and could only hope that Aurora would not encounter some big time sentries. Earlier in the morning, he had felt (more than seen) the imperceptible light dimming during the bus shift as new repairs to the nuclear generator were brought on line. Now the numbers blinked back at him; with too little time for further changes: laser screen 55%, nuclear generator 84%, optical computer-1 55%, optical computer-2 78%, rocket drive-1 95%, rocket drive-2 85%, weapons 90%. With half her critical systems just over 50% operational, today was not a good day to be going into combat. Only 7 rockets remained in the armory, not enough to get them out of serious trouble. He flipped the screen to the next image. The Virgo system was positioned about 1 ly south of Eridani III and contained three planets. He glanced at the chrono; it was time. Stepping out of his ready room, the bright reflected morning glare of planet Virgo-1 momentarily caused his eyes to blink, as he moved onto the bridge. He briefly signaled with his right claw to relax the bridge staff. "Sir, we are on approach for standard orbit," noted Lt.Commander Babina. Rana gave him a nod of acknowledgement as he took his seat in the command chair. Chief Otophryne barked out, "Tactical ready, all missiles on standby." Again, Rana raised his claw in silent acknowledgement. "Lt.Alytes, what do we have here?" "Sir, it is a small planet, classified as a type 4," came the reply. "Entering standard orbit now," chimed in the helmsman. "Chief, what do you have?" asked Rana. "Nothing, Sir. Sensors are not picking up anything unusual." "Very good. Alytes, prepare the probe for launch." "Probe is set and the outer doors are open." "Launch probe." "Probe's away." Within a few seconds, the tiny glow of the ion-engine appeared on the main screen, as the probe raced for the planet's surface. "Secure from action stations," announced Rana. Who knew what tomorrow would bring, but today was going to be OK. Rana turned to Babina. "I am well aware that the crew has been doing extra shifts on the repair work. But today we are entering the year 2300, and let's set up some kind of evening celebration for the millenium change over in the main crew's mess. Just make sure it does not go on too late, as we will be examining the second planet bright and early tomorrow." "Yes, Sir. With pleasure Sir," replied Babina, as the worried lines in his face briefly transformed into that of a smile. "As soon as my watch ends, I will pay a visit to the cooks on the mess deck." From the corner of his eye, Rana noted with a glint of pleasure that everyone on the bridge suddenly seemed to move about and do their routine tasks a little snappier, in anticipation of treats to come.

[Anonymous]

[Deleted by Admins]

[oi]

Stardate 2301. Bridge, 0803 hours. The gentle curve of a medium sized type 6 planet covered with swirling clouds lit from the stellar glow of Virgo, filled Aurora's main forward screen. For the uninitiated, this would have made for a spectacular sight, but for Chief Otophryne, it was ignored, as he focused on tactical's visual displays. There is was. There is was again. A tiny red dot moved off the edge of his left screen drifting towards the center. Quickly he scanned the readout from the sensors. "Killer Satellite at 12+45", he announced. On the bridge, all eyes turned to the expected coordinates. At this distance, nothing could be made out but the tiniest hint of a metallic glint, seemingly suspended above the cloud tops. "Prepare a missile for launch," said Rana drily. "You may fire when ready." Otophryne looked at the weapons stock and noted that there were seven missiles left. As he loaded one into the launch tube, he instinctively felt that the Captain wanted him to take out this target one with only one shot. A small piece of his reputation was on the line at this moment, and feeling a slight tightness in his throat, he resisted the urge to take a slightly longer shot than was necessary. Having had some experience facing this type of sentry, the Captain held Aurora on a steady course, as the satellite activated and moved in their direction. Otophryne waited, using the time to open the outer launch tube doors, and to scan for possible other contacts. There were none. He waited. The red dot filled the center of his screen, and the simple firing solution blinked steadily, as he waited. Now! "Missile's away." Again, all eyes turned in the direction of the satellite, where a few pixels of the screen glowed from the ion trail of the departing missile. Suddenly, there was a soundless flash, a red molten color, which rapidly faded. "Target is destroyed. No other targets detected," said the Chief. "Very good," replied Rana. "Lt.Alytes, the planet is yours." Rana got up from his chair. "Babina, you have the bridge." In the light of his clean shot, the Chief permitted himself a second or two of satisfaction, as he sent the remaining missiles back to the armory and blew the launch tube free of debris. "Today was easy, almost too easy," he thought. "Who knows what tomorrow might bring."

[Anonymous]

[Deleted by Admins]

[oi]

Stardate, 2302. Bridge, 0934 hours. The bridge was bright with morning light, but fairly quiet, now that the action was over. Chief Otophryne was busy with the rocket tube cleaning blowout. The tube was still warm from the firing of two rockets earlier that each took out a killer satellite. Lt.Commander Babina had the bridge, and was logging in the new combat experience ratings for Aurora (51%). Aurora was still in orbit about Virgo-3, a very small type 5 planet. Most of the real action on the bridge centered about Lt. Alytes, who was taking in the various readouts from the planet. “More basalt,” he muttered aloud, scanning the surface composition of the dark plain below. A brief bout of volcanism early in the planet’s origin must have spewed out this batch of rocks. He zoomed in on the microstructure of the rock, and could discern a characteristic pattern of small crystals. “Rapid cooling,” he muttered again. This was certainly not surprising, as the planet was too small to retain either water or an atmosphere, and the rocks would have been exposed to the icy temperatures of space immediately upon being blown out of the planet’s interior. As he watched, the probe passed over the dark plain and began transmitting images of the lighter grey-white material on the border. “Anorthosite,” he muttered, as sure enough, the mass spectrometer signals for calcium, magnesium, silicon, aluminum, and lots of oxygen rose up out of the background noise. Sometimes this rock shows iridescence, but not today, likely due to the extensive radiation weathering of the exposed surface. As Alytes programmed the computer to automatically search for the distinctive suite of expected rock types that nearly always are found with anorthosite, he heard the soft ding of the turbolift doors opening, and was soon joined by the ever-curious Ensign Awa. “What are you finding?” asked Awa. “Rocks and more rocks,” replied Alytes, “And nothing to stir up any interest for an automated miner.” “How many missiles were fired?” asked Awa. “Two.” “Alright, with only four left, we’ll have to go home now.” Awa smiled at the thought. “Makes sense to me. As soon as I am finished with the probe, I’ll report to the Captain, and he’ll likely break orbit,” observed Alytes. “Well in that case, let me help you with the scan.” With both amphibians began typing furiously away, data streamed into Aurora’s twin optical computers.

[oi]

Stardate 2303. Mess Deck, 17:04. Late last night, Aurora had pointed her prow due West, and within minutes, the course change resonated throughout the ship - homeward bound. Kaloula and Pipa are sitting in front of big plates of food discussing the possibilities of upcoming leave for the crew. “Replacement fore and aft missiles alone will take nearly a stardate,” noted Kaloula. “There are still a lot of electronics and internal systems being held by little more than algae gum,” added Pipa. “There might even be enough time for two leave sessions, maybe each a stardate long,” he continued. Both amphibians leaned back in their seats, each with dreams of home. Real air, a sky, natural sounds, the lack of the constant thrum of the drive, and yes, home caught food, all receiving moments of wishful reflection. To add to the pleasure of the moment, tonight's food was exceptional too. With the mission ending, the larder had been opened up, and even the dullest amphibian knew the difference between crayfish larva and mayflies. Knowing that Kaloula and Pipa were from engineering, a few members of the crew passed by their table and gave them the sign (and a nudge) to try and slip in a few extra tenths of warp. A portion of stress on the crew lay in the uncertainty over the length of each mission, and now that this one was ending, the weighty oppression of space seemed magically lifted. Even the never-ending cycle of watches were seeming shorter. "I guess that there is only, maybe six or seven more watches to go until we arrive," said Pipa, counting out loud. "When you say it like that, I'm almost glad to get the next one started," nodded Kaloula, just before he washed down a crayfish with a big gulp from his cup. "I'm done here. Let's head for the observation deck and see if we can pick out Sol-1," said Pipa, excitedly. "At this distance, Sol-1 is pretty easy," noted Kaloula. "What would be interesting is if it is noticably brighter."

[oi]

Stardate 2304. Officer’s berthing quarters, 0330 hours. Dong. Dong. Dong. Lt. Alytes lifted a weary head off of his pillow. “Fire! Fire! Officer’s quarter’s forward,” squawked the box above his head. Dong. Dong. Dong. Slightly groggy, he planted his flippers on the deck and tried to sit up. On an enclosed starship with its oxygen rich environment, plenty of things to burn, and nowhere for the smoke to go, fire had to be quite a nightmare. Strangely, the lights were off, except for the dim glow of the emergency battle lanterns. Just then, his cabin door opened, and he dimly recognized Lt.Commander Babina, who pointed to him, and announced, “You’re unconscious.” “Fire! Fire! Officer’s quarter’s forward, this is a drill,” squawked the box. “Just a drill,” sighed Alytes. Being an amphibian, he really couldn’t growl, but instead some fairly angry frothy bubbles appeared at the corners of his mouth. Babina pointed to Alytes’s arm, which he passively held out as Babina rapidly knotted some colored markers onto his elbow and wrist. In the passageway, he heard a sleepy Awa’s foot find his open cabin door. “Ouch, What the . . .” Babina pointed to Awa, and said, “You too are a casualty. Lie down.” Awa complied. Unlike Awa, who was flat on the cold hard deck, at least Alytes had the good fortune of being a casualty in his own bunk, and he began to slowly lean back as Babina finished with his markers and turned to tie a pair onto Awa. Out in the passageway, he could hear the gruff voice of Chief Otophryne directing the repair party, along with the scraping of equipment being dragged over the deck. A masked face peered into his cabin, and behind the face shield he could hear someone say, “We have casualties here.” Moments later, the burly form of Chief Otophryne appeared, and unceremoniously planted a face mask onto Alytes. Outside the cabin, he heard another “ouch” from Awa, as he was dumped rather abruptly onto a stretcher. In trying to gather his thoughts, all that entered his mind was his silent complaint, “Drills. Drills! What are we doing having drills when we are so close to the end of our mission?” His turn for the stretcher came all too soon, and he too was rather roughly rolled against the cabin doorway as two crewmen hastily tried to maneuver the both stretcher and prone Alytes out through the entrance and into the passageway. Fortunately, the nearby mess hall had been designated as an emergency triage station, and they thankfully would not have to squeeze him into the turbolift. Soon he was lying next to Awa and being examined for injuries. Both wore red and purple armbands which translated into “unconscious” and “toxic inhalation”. For Alytes, ever the scientist, toxic inhalation made sense, as the ship was filled with organics that readily could be converted into toxic smoke when burnt. As he closed his tired eyes and began to imagine a list of some of the more toxic organic compounds, a crewman shouted two inches from his ear, “Oxygen, we need oxygen here.” More frothy bubbles appeared at the corners of his mouth. He turned to Awa, and both silently and in synchrony mouthed the words, “I hate drills.”

[oi]

Stardate 2305. Mess Deck, 2017 hours. Kaloula peered out the mess deck port hole of Aurora, her hull glowing pale green against blackness, as the warship sliced through streaking photons like a knife through spaghetti, pushing toward an ever-brightening star. Fresh out of the engineering spaces, both he and Pipa were dry, overheated, and hungry, and not necessarily in that order. The on-coming watch had been a little late in relieving them, and now, unusual for such a small ship, there was a definite chow line tonight, and the tiny mess space was filled with off duty Amphibians. Pipa stood up on the toes of his flippers to see if the cook was running out of scarab beetles. To his relief, the tray was still more than half full, and the line was short. The next problem facing both friends was a distinct lack of seats. “Where did everybody come from tonight?” asked Pipa. “Thoughts of home make it hard to sleep,” replied Kaloula. “Do you see any seats?” he continued. Pipa was too busy stacking insects on his plate to notice. Looking up from the end of the chow line, both Amphibians noted that only single seats were available at the tables, except for one in the corner where Lt. Alytes was occupying himself with a large drink. “He’s not too bad,” whispered Pipa. “We have talked with him before.” Kaloula also knew that Alytes wore the yellow of a science officer, not the white suits of the regular navy, and so neither hesitated to ask to sit at the officer’s table. “Certainly, pull up some chairs,” replied Alytes, giving them a friendly smile. “You’re the curious pair from engineering, as I recall.” “Thanks, it’s really crowded tonight,” said Kaloula, trying to make a small excuse for their presence. Pipa was too busy reducing the size of the beetle collection on his plate to make any attempt at etiquette. “You two look really dry and due for some time out of the engineering spaces,” noted Alytes. Although most of the ship was kept at high humidity for the Amphibians, the lower deck, which included engineering and the crawl spaces, were not. “How can you tell?” Asked Kaloula. “I was looking at the contrast between your faces and the bulkhead behind you,” replied Alytes. Pipa, who never paid much attention to bulkheads (more than once to his regret), leaned his chair back and felt the surface, “It’s covered with tiny droplets,” he exclaimed. “Exactly,” noted Alytes. “Look how the droplets never stick to the surface but are continually rolling.” “Why doesn’t the water stay in place?” asked Kaloula. Suddenly Lt. Alytes looked every bit in his element as a science officer, “Nearly every surface in this ship is not precisely smooth. Instead, it has an invisible texture to it, a texture composed of small raised bumps, each closely spaced next to one another. As our humid water vapor condenses to form droplets, these droplets encounter the bumps before they can flatten out on the surface. Each droplet thus retains a layer of air underneath.” “It’s like a water droplet on stilts,” imagined Kaloula. “Exactly. All it takes is a little vibration to make the droplet unstable.” “Like the constant thrum from our warp drive,” chipped in Pipa. “You got it,” replied Alytes. “So, if I get the goose bumps, will water roll off me?” wondered Pipa out loud. “Not really, Alytes said drily. “The spacing between the individual goose bumps is far too far apart to interact with a water droplet.” Kaloula glanced down at his chrono. “Sir, thanks for the table and lesson, but we’ve got to go.” “No problem, said Alytes, “we’ll all be up again at midnight.”

[oi]

Stardate 2306. Observation deck, 1732 hours. Even on a naval vessel that is more of a scientific survey ship than a warship, it remains a simple truth than no one has more than a few minutes each day of free time. So it was quite a surprise for Ensign Awa when he encountered a small crowd of amphibians on the semi-darkened observation deck. The remains of a small celebraton were in the process of being cleaned away, and many eyes were now turned to the streaking sky. Over the last day or so, a confusing pattern of stars had begun to move and rearrange - a steady parade of lights taking their positions into recognizable constellations. From Amphibia, almost everyone had learned the pattern for the great Dendrobates, with his jeweled sword and the four stars making up his shield held high. Tonight, the four stars were now visible, and even identifiable, but only as short streaks still noticeably out of alignment. Awa saw Lt.Alytes ensconced at a corner table, looking lost in reading some printouts, and began weaving his way through the crowd in his direction. "Evening, Sir." Lt.Alytes looked up from his data pad, momentarily distracted by the greeting. "Ensign Awa. What a pleasure. Have a seat." Reluctantly putting aside his data, Alytes turned his focus to Awa. "As you know, we live in one of an infinite number of multiverses. Yet it still remains quite a point of contention exactly how these multiverses interact with each other." Awa smiled. Lt. Alytes was ever the scientist, and Awa was never afraid to jump into any scientific discussion. "I was always taught that as the number of multiverses rapidly approaches infinity most become nearly identical to each other," replied Awa. "Quite true," acknowledged Alytes. "But there always remain a few that are uniquely different," he added. "You sound a bit like a gambler, focusing on the exception rather than the rule," noted Awa. "If I was a gambler," said Alytes, "I'd be thinking that in a small number of universes some uncanny, unusual, unlikely coincidences should occur, coincidences that if one had enough knowledge might be predictable. One example might be the evolution of life on planets. Over time such events would come into ever more prominence." "If I hear you correctly," answered Awa thoughtfully, "You are suggesting that over the course of time, astonishing improbabilities in any one universe, including ours, will become more and more common." "Exactly," replied Alytes. "Still, perhaps we live in one of those many boring universes where such events seldom happen," added Awa wistfully. "Well, we are here, and I think that it is worth giving a few minutes thought, and a few simulations (holding up the datapad), on how one might go about predicting the unexpected." "Have you found anything?" "Not yet. But it is interesting how the plot of unlikely coincidences in any one universe is logarithmic," observed Alytes, pointing to a series of graphs. "When the unexpected can be reduced to numbers in an equation, does that mean it is no longer unexpected?" asked Awa. "No trying to side-track me. I'm just sketching out a few ideas here." "Well, let me know if you make progress. I'm heading below to get a few hours of shut-eye before my next watch," said Awa. "I'll be doing the same myself," added Alytes. "Just as soon as I crunch out a few more equations."

[oi]

Stardate 2307. Asteroid training grounds, 1543 hours. Streams of broken rock, ice, and shards of gravel bounced like giant raindrops off of Lt. Kassina’s canopy as he gunned his fighter between the shattered remains of two small asteroids. “Form up.” Rather than speaking, he simply clicked his mike twice, sending out the coded command. Seemingly out of nowhere, nine other fighters appeared, adapting to a funnel shaped ring behind him. He spoke one word, “Alpha,” into his comm, and like a school of obedient fish, all fighters in unison flipped, to bear down on a spinning asteroid. Alpha was code for a helicoidal attack, designed to dissipate return fire during the approach, while at the end of the run of concentrating all 10 rocket bursts onto the target. With a frown, Kassina again addressed his mike, “Number five, tighten up.” In this attack pattern, any fighter too far inside of the helix would collect more than its fair share of damage. All too soon, the asteroid loomed large in his sights, and he squeezed the firing trigger. Ten rockets in momentary unison smashed into the rocky surface. Kassina noted that there was a little spread to the impact point, with the accuracy falling off from the outer ships in the helix. He pulled back on the stick and sent his team high and clear of the debris. Practice, practice, practice. Lt. Kassina was a rough and ready leader, a good choice for the single minded task of welding his team into a fighting unit. “Dead-eye shooting, two and four. Let’s head back to the barn.” Silver streaked the blackness of space, as the fighter unit turned and headed in for the crude base nestled into one of the larger asteroids. A few clicks of the chrono later, and the lieutenant was flip flopping down the narrow hallway carrying his helmet. As he passed by the canteen, heading for the ready room to do the post flight evaluation, an orderly handed him a message, “For you, Sir.” Kassina took it with a nod, and waited to sit down before opening it. From Admiral Ansonia. To Lieutenant Kassina. You are to report immediately to Space Dock-1 for duty assignment to the Scout class warship Aurora. An audible sigh escaped from Kassina’s lips. Training was over. Real events were about to begin. As the last of his crew straggled into the room, he stood up. “Don’t bother taking your seats. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us.” Looking into the other nine querying faces, he smiled, and waved the set of orders. “We’re been assigned to a starship.”