Story Excerpt

No signatures of intelligent life. We can use the abbreviated first contact protocols. Captain Tarvis Hanbaum gave the order. “Begin the descent. Make it slow. Remember, we want to be seen.” He muttered, “Not that there’s anything alive down there to see us.”

The unmutable voice in the back of his mind reminded him that no life meant fewer opportunities to make a misstep. Before they left the transport ship, Admiral Machao made it clear he would gladly end Tarvis’s career if there was a repeat of their last mission together.

Stars streaked upwards as the nose of the ship angled down. The planet designated UXP-29-03, a rusty brown ball wrapped in abandoned mega-cities from pole to pole, now filled the viewscreen. Looking down from orbit, it was clear the planet had once been able to sustain an immense amount of life. Huge depressions showed where oceans had once been. Now it was a barren rock, devoid of life. The remains of another dead civilization to be explored.

Angry red and orange flames engulfed the forward viewscreens of the cruiser Resolute Venturer.

“Shallow out your descent. Unless your intent is to burn us all to death. Pay attention to the hull temperatures, not the speed. The one affects the other,” Tarvis said.

At the helm, Officer Cadet Novak gave a slight nudge to the control yoke. “Aye, sir.”

“Cadet, now you’re pitching too high. Notice how we have a slight bounce? If we keep bouncing on the atmosphere, in a dozen-seconds this planet will throw us back into space. Apply gentle downward pressure. We want to see flames around the nose until it glows orange, but only the nose.”

The cadet pushed the yoke forward. The ship started to occilate and he pulled back.

“You need to feel the ship and respond to what it’s telling you,” stated the captain.

“Sir?”

Tarvis pointed at the navigation officer. “Lieutenant Kagawa, disable the automated flight stability system.”

The quiet of the cockpit was filled in an instant with a tempest of sounds like the wailing of tormented demons.The ship vibrated and bucked like it was possessed.

Panic gripped the faces of the young crew members. A couple of them doubled over, trying not to vomit as their stomachs heaved up and down.

Placing a hand on the cadet’s right shoulder, Tarvis asked, “You feel that?”

The cadet stared up wide-eyed at the ship captain. “The flight controls are fighting back, sir!”

“Don’t let go of them. That would end bad for us.”

“Sorry sir,” came the cadet’s sheepish response.

“Don’t be sorry. Sorry isn’t going to get us off this rock after you’ve smashed the ship into the surface. This is why ships are steered with control yokes and not touchscreen.” Tarvis paused and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he commanded, ”Push the nose down just a tad.”

The bucking stopped and the ship settled into a harmonic thrumming.

Commander Jaison Melewes, the ship’s Executive Officer, stepped up next to Captain Hanbaum. “I swear you enjoy terrorizing kids.”

“They should be terrified, XO. Atmospheric reentry is our greatest act of defiance against the universe. Our bold statement that we went into the cold, merciless vacuum of space and survived.”

“So melodramatic. We have simulators to train them for these situations.” The commander placed a reassuring hand on the cadet’s left shoulder. “Cadet Novak, you think you can remember how the ship feels when pitched to the correct attitudet?”

The young man maintained his death grip on the flight controls. His voice quivered. “Yes…yessir.”

Tarvis leaned over the cadet’s other shoulder and pointed out the viewscreen at a large empty park surrounded by a dense cluster of tall buildings. “Put us down in the middle and don’t break anything on my ship.”

The terrain out the viewscreen swayed and bobbed as the cadet struggled to keep the ship steady. Someone vomited.

“Lieutenant Kagawa,” the XO said, “re-engage flight stability.”

Calm and quiet returned to the cockpit.

The cadet floated the now compliant cruiser toward the Captain’s designated landing site.

“Spoilsport,” Captain Tarvis whispered.

“As XO, it’s my job to be mother to the crew and you were scaring them needlessly.”

“You know they need to learn to fly manually. How many battles have we lived through in ships with the flight computers shot to pieces?”

“I’m not disagreeing with you, but those of us with families to return to prefer training that doesn’t endanger our lives.”

“As a future ship captain, your job will be to put the survival of the crew above all else which means training for worst-case scenarios.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that, if you ever stop refusing to retire so I can be promoted.”

“Just another tour, I swear.”

“You said that what…three tours ago.”

Tarvis smiled. “I will never grow tired of first orbital entry on a new planet. This is where I belong.”

“And I keep telling you it’s time to let the scores of young officers you’ve trained take over exploring the galaxy. Go discover the joys of calling one planet home and put down some roots.”

Tarvis laughed. “Honestly, can you even imagine me settling down and becoming a farmer?”

“Imagine it? No. Wish for it every day? Absolutely.”

There was an abrupt jolt as the ship dropped the final meter to the surface.

“You can be in charge of securing the landing site while I go to my stateroom to submit the stack of paperwork justifying initiating first contact with this planet.”

“Admiral Machao love his paperwork,” replied Major Melewes.

As Tarvis walked toward the door, he raised his voice to say, “Cadet Novak, I expect to see more simulator training in your record book come next review cycle.”