Episode 128, Gravitational Shadows
22 Nov 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Estrellas de la Mirage (M3Q-W9Z)
Aquila Dark Region EB-X c1-30 System
Earth like Planet A 6
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I stood in the lower-bridge conference room, gazing through its reinforced window at the earthy swirls of blue, green, and brown that painted the world rotating below. It was mesmerizing—the kind of sight that could make you pause—but responsibilities called, and the planet wasn’t going anywhere. If it did, we’d have bigger problems than losing a few seconds to admiration.
The section chiefs and contractors were seated around the spacious table. Among them sat our newest honorary member, Ashlyn, flanked by her dad, Meredith, and Ceri. Aby stood silently behind her, an ever-watchful presence.
Ashlyn’s expression was curious, her gaze darting from one face to another. This kind of formality was new to her. Truth be told, I wasn’t much more accustomed to it myself.
Clearing my throat, I met her eyes. “Ashlyn, how much fuel did we burn to get here, and what do we have in reserve?”
The room fell quiet, every head turning her way. They all understood her role here: a symbolic pirate-in-training under the protection of the crew. No one expected her to set foot on a mission—least of all Meredith, who wouldn’t allow it. But we all had a hand in shaping her, guiding her into this world.
Ashlyn straightened, her voice clear. “Three hundred tons burned, leaving us with nine thousand three hundred and sixteen tons in reserve.”
I glanced at Tara. She turned her head slightly, her gaze shifting to the planet beyond the window. “What can you tell us about the planet outside?”
Ashlyn pulled out her data tablet, her fingers gliding across the screen as she accessed the latest scans.
“The planet below has a rotational period of 1.9 standard days. That’s about forty-five-point-six relative hours. Divide that in half, and you get twenty-two-point-eight-hour days and nights. The mean temperature is two-ninety-three Kelvin, peaking at three-oh-five Kelvin at the equator during daylight and dropping to two-seventy-seven during the extended nights.”
I nodded, impressed but unsurprised. Meredith hadn’t skimped on her education during their time in space together.
Tara gave me a slight nod, silently confirming the information. Around the table, a smattering of applause broke out as the section chiefs acknowledged Ashlyn’s composure.
I let the moment linger before speaking again. “You’ll assist your dad, Captain Akio, and other crew members in scanning the planet’s surface. Your task will be to identify the optimal location for a base camp. Once established, we’ll begin shore leave for the crew.”
“I see nothing but more profit,” Corvis’s deep voice boomed, his words met with a chorus of laughter from the other Coteries around the table.
A smile crept across my face as I tapped my fingers lightly on the conference table. “That’s one of the reasons we’re here.”
Tara leaned forward, her own smile forming—though hers carried the precise, calculated charm her programming dictated for such moments. “A final quiz for you,” she said, her tone teasing yet instructive.
Ashlyn, already brimming with excitement at having a real task aboard the ship alongside her dad and Captain Akio, perked up further.
“Plan a 524.25 light-year jump,” Tara began, “for a ship with a 54-light-year unladen jump range, a 63-light-year maximum jump range, and an unrefueled endurance of 739.82 light-years.”
All eyes turned toward Ashlyn. She furrowed her brow, her fingers flying over her data tablet as she processed the numbers. A few moments later, her expression shifted—brows easing, lips twitching into a smile of pride. She straightened up and announced confidently, “Eleven jumps. A refueling stop at the final destination—or the nearest system with a scoopable star—fifteen minutes total if you skip scanning any systems you pass through.”
I glanced at Tara who nodded in confirmation of Ashlyn’s calculation, as Lianna looked at Ashlyn then at me. “You’re not going down below?”
“No,” Tara answered. “We are using the Mandalay for the reason it was purchased. To scout ahead of the carrier and find new regions for us to visit and profit from.”
“And we will prosecute any discoveries in their wake,” Corvus deep voice boomed once again, to cheers from the Coteries.
***
Four jumps away from the carrier, the comm system chirped. A holographic image of Captain Akio flickered to life, his expression calm but focused.
“We’ve detected a weak and intermittent signal,” Akio began. “At first, we thought it was normal distortion effects, but it had an EM pattern that didn’t match any natural phenomena. The ship’s AI worked on cleaning it up, and we managed to pull out a distress message.” He nodded to someone offscreen. The comm system chirped again. “I’ve sent a copy to you.”
Tara immediately interfaced with the Mandalay’s computer, her focus sharpening as she processed the incoming data. Her head tilted one way, then the other, her eyes suddenly widening. “Bleia Eohn WV-A c28-1 system. That’s over two thousand light-years away!”
“That’s what the AI and the communications officer concluded as well,” Akio confirmed. “There are no recorded black holes or neutron stars between us and the system of origin.”
Tara tilted her head again, scanning the star charts in collaboration with the AI. “I think I’ve got your answer, Captain.”
Akio’s hologram shifted slightly, turning toward her. “What did you find, Miss Sha?”
“I extrapolated for orbiting black bodies,” she explained, “and found a distant star near their location that briefly aligned with a white star closer to us. This likely magnified their signal temporarily, causing the distortion.”
My head throbbed just hearing that. “A what?”
Tara glanced at me, her expression patient but tinged with amusement. “It’s called gravitational microlensing. A foreground star acts as a magnifying glass, amplifying light or signals from a more distant source. It’s more common near black holes, but since there are none in this region, it’s exceptionally rare—and brief.”
Akio nodded, turning slightly to address someone offscreen again before looking back. “The AI concurs. The signal is no longer detectable; the event has likely passed.”
I glanced between Akio and Tara. “Is there anyone closer?”
Tara shook her head. “We’re the closest. The next nearest ship is another fleet carrier, more than a thousand light-years away. No way they caught it.”
I shrugged, leaning forward to plot a return course to the carrier. “Alright, it’s us then. Captain Akio, get a course laid in, and let’s assemble some teams for when we arrive.”
Akio’s image flickered out, leaving the room silent save for the hum of the Mandalay’s systems. Tara turned her gaze toward me, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Ah, look at you. A pirate with a heart.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Look at the bright side—they might have some cargo for us.”
Tara laughed, shaking her head. “Incorrigible.”