Im not sure this really qualifies for the assignment, but I definitely want to hear what you guys (and Henry) think about the characters. I have two main characters here, Matthew Maxwell, and Ashley Stenchaver. Maxwell is an experienced ship’s captain who has fought in the first spacial wars, one which united the earth in a fight against the Martian Colonies. He is designed to be one of the stories biggest influences, but his story will mostly be told through the perspective of Ashley. Maxwell will is a plenty competent captain and, necessarily is fairly actionable, but his likeability is nearly non existent. Ashley is Maxwell’s second in command, she knows very little about aside from the rumors and official mission reports. Her character is young and inexperienced. She starts out likable and fairly competent, but she takes few actions on her own, and is mostly directed by Maxwell. Their story arch’s will grow together.

I hope you all enjoy reading what I have written so far, I plan to make this an entire novel, so all constructive feedback will be appreciated.

Prologue

Orbital UESF Platform, 17 July 2048

“You’re entire crew, to include the most advanced ship in our fleet,” the haughty, British accent descended from her chair as if a cold front over Texas, “are lost. Destroyed, killed, by an enemy force with which the vaunted Matthew Maxwell,” she spoke the name with poison in her voice, “was completely unfamiliar. Completely unprepared for. Completely surprised by.” 

“Your honor, if I could-“ He began, but was quickly cut off.

“Before this board, you will speak when told to.” Supreme Chancellor Stenchaver admonished. She slowly turned her head to the leaders sitting to either side of her, 3 on her left, 3 on her right. “Leaders from each continent on earth have gathered today, Captain, to witness you and your failure,” she continued, “and to decide your fate.” 

“For the first time,” came the old, gravely voice of someone who must have been from the African continent, his words filled with wisdom and sadness for the loss of the Burnished and her crew, “the United Earth Space Force has been struck a serious blow from the Martians. How, pray tell, do you reason their victory?”

Taking a moment to consider his answer, Matthew began “The Martians initiated their attack from our Zenith. I believe they were waiting for us. Their weapons were unlike anything we have encountered previously, and they struck with precision; first our our methane thrusters, then our Ion. If Lieutenant Wells hadn’t-“

“We are familiar with the sacrifice that your Lieutenant made,” a third voice, this from the continent of Russia, “and that of your crew. What we do not know is why you were so easily over-powered.”

Supreme Chancellor Stenchaver again spoke, “Even with the Burnished at your guidance, with it’s weapons so advanced, it’s hull so reinforced, its thrusters more agile than that of any ship that we or the Martian Colonies have ever built, you lost the fight, and you lost your crew, all thanks to your incom-” 

“Not incompetence!” Matthew shouted, the regret, more so than the anger, present in his throat. His emotions, so carefully hidden, began to pull at his vocal cords. Matthew spoke again, quieter but with the same edge, towards the half-circle of judgmental faces around him. “Desperation, your Honor. We were desperate, overwhelmed. Outnumbered, outgunned, with little time to respond, no sign of the attack had been present. We were half blind, using only passive sensors to mask out presence in enemy territory.”

The memory of the battle brought itself, uninvited, into Matthew’s mind. The overwhelming force that his unknown enemy used against him, having predicted his every move and counter move, each strike stripping his ship of its armor, weapons, and crew. 

“How they knew of it, or of our mission, I do not know.” Matthew sighed, composing himself. A Captain of the UESF does not wear his heart so plainly on his sleeve. Forcing his traitorous memories back to where they belonged, Matthew straightened, staring his accusers in the eyes with a challenge of his own. They stared back, some angry, some curious, the Supreme Chancellor, downright furious.

“Esteemed panel,” he said with conviction, meeting her red gaze “the mission, despite it’s extreme cost, was successful. Thanks to the sacrifices of my crew, the majority of which you will never begin to fathom,” he bit out with as much venom as he could get away with, “the experimental technology is recovered, and with it, our dreams of interstellar colonization will be realized.” 

Matthew, having conjured all of the confidence awarded to him by his 23 years of experience in the UESF and by his rank as Senior Captain, stood as tall as he was able, and prepared to receive his sentence.

Part 1

Awake, alive, Arrived

Chapter one

Commander, Captain Matthew Maxwell, of the spire

 

So. Damn. Cold.

The first thoughts that came to Commander of the Spire Captain Maxwell’s mind as his cryo chamber abruptly woke him from his 25 year slumber were that of how cold he felt, and how he wasn’t hungry. At all. He had expected to be hungry after 25 years at nearly 60% the speed of light, but, he wasn’t. 

The next thought that came to his mind, the lid to his cryo chamber now cracking open with a hiss were of the UESF spire and her crew. 

“Exit your cryo tube with caution,” called the horribly cheerful voice of the ships AI, “and do not stress your muscles. They have been frozen for 25 years.” 

Reaching for the handle to his right, and sitting up, Matthew realized just how important that statement ended up being. He was stiff. Really stiff. 

“Captain, please, your body is not yet up to temperature. Give it a minute.” Called the AI. Matthew did not know it’s name, but it sounded masculine. As if reading his mind, the AI said “Im Thomas, by the way. Your old AI formed me about 10 years ago, and I have become intimately familiar with your ship since then.” 

“Thomas, then? Okay.” Matthew said, “nice to make your acquaintance. Two things, when can I begin moving normally, and where are we?”

“Captain,” Thomas began, “your body’s temperature should regulate in 45 seconds, and at that point you will be able to move about freely. And get dressed.”

“watch it,” Matthew bit out, Obviously he’d prefer to be clothed, but cryosleep did not allow for that. Clothes would burn the wearer during the wake up due to their being frozen at nearly 0K.

“Yes, Captain,” came the apologetic reply from Thomas, “and we have now arrived in the Teagarden System. Arrival at the our destination, Teagarden B, will be in 3 days time.” 

“Three days?” Matthew asked, “perfect.”

Matthews fingers and toes were beginning to move on command, so he stood, stepped out of his tube, and opened the drawer next to his chamber’s bed. He picked out a fresh pair of clothes, his towel, and headed for the small bathroom within his suite.

“Tell me about my ship, then, Thomas.” Matthew ordered, curious as to the state of his crew and it’s mission. 

“Sir, the crew of the spire are all still on ice, and their vital signs read normal. Our fuel supply is likewise normal. The nuclear reactor is performing sub-optimally, though that is to be expected with the ship running at minimum capacity for the last 2 and a half decades, there should be a supply of hot water ready for you.” 

“What will it take to get the reactor back to full strength?”  Most captains would not normally be concerned about energy consumption, especially not clamped to the windfall as they were, but Matthew had a mission to accomplish before they would find themselves at Teagarden B.

“It will be as simple as consuming energy, captain. The batteries are filled, and the turbine is already spinning at minimal capacity.”

“How can we burn enough energy to get the turbine back to speed?”

“sir, I could charge the super magnets and their capacitors in the ion engines. They have been depleted, and require enough power to drain the battery reserves by 10%.”

“Do it.” Always be ready for a fight Matthew thought to himself.

approaching the mirror over his sink, Matthew gazed at his face. Cryosleep slowed your aging, but it did not stop it entirely, and Matthew barely recognized the man before him. His face was unshaven, his hair hung by his shoulders, and his eyes had earned a few stress wrinkles. At 28 years old, he was surprised by the change.

No turning back now, he thought, turning his head from side to side for a better view, she told you, and you didn’t listen

Remorsefully, he turned on the water to the shower, and continued listening to the report, Thomas continued, naming every system and subsystem, starting from most essential to least. Matthew stepped from his shower, dried himself, then pulled on his underclothes, his black officers slacks, socks and shiny black boots. Standing over the bathroom sink, Matthew began the work of maintaining himself. A captain, of the United Earth Space Force need not be perfect, but he’d better look the part. 

His freshly shaven face and skin-fade hair, complete with a comb-over to the right, had taken many years off of his previous look. Donning the rest of his uniform, the White button down and Black officers jacket with red trimming, he finally left his bathroom and moved towards the bridge. 

Thomas finally showed himself on the display of the command chair. He appeared as a green circular object which bands around it’s polar and equatorial axis. Lines of light began at the axis of the two bands, and faded back, showing the AI’s brain at work. What must be his eye, over the axis, was turned toward him, light pulsing gently from him as he spoke. “Looking much better, Captain!” Thomas said cheerfully,

Matthew could choose to be offended, but he took the remark as a compliment, and said “Thank you, Thomas.” 

“Sir, the other captains won’t be off the ice for a day, at least, why did you order me, or, rather, my predecessor to bring you out so early?” 

“One can never be too prepared,” said Matthew, as he turned around, using both hands to don his Commanders hat. “Come with me, we’re doing a walk of the ship.”

“Of course, sir.”

Matthew did not have to ask Thomas to come with him. In fact, Thomas was the ship. There was no place on the spire in which Thomas was not. But humans will personify anything with a face, and Matthew was, at this moment, extremely lonely, and the hologram of his new AI could follow him anywhere.

They began at the forward laser batteries, replacing the filters and recalibrating the magnifiers which gave them their destructive capacity. Moving on to the missile tubes, they verified functionality of each and double counted their supply of explosives. The hangar was full with small fighters and larger transports. Thomas assured the captain that each was full of fuel and ready for engagement. 

After checking on the reactor and the ion engines, the captain finally arrived at the cryo bay. Here, his crew lay still asleep. 63 crew members. 15 officers, 20 pilots, 10 warriors, 15 gunners, 2 engineers, and one executive officer. There were additional cryo pods, filled with additional bodies needed for the colony to be built, but they were not his crew. 

“Thomas, what time is it?”

“Sir, it is 2000 Zulu time on earth.”

“You are to wake my executive officer at 0600.” Matthew instructed, “and make sure she get’s cleaned up before coming to my bridge. No later than 0800. Understood?”

“Understood, Captain”

 

 

Chapter Two

Executive officer, Lieutenant Ashely Stenchaver, of the UES Spire 

Thomas had done as he was asked, and, having presented her with his image and her orders, subsequently evaporated, leaving Ashley naked and searching for a hot shower. She was grateful to be woken up alone leaving the nearest hygiene bay to herself. She showered, dried her hair, dressed in her officers uniform of black boots, black pants, a white button down shirt, and a black jacket, trimmed in the dark blue of an executive officer. 

In the mirror, she saw that her previously long and blond hair had grown from her shoulders to her shoulder blades. Imperfect, but she could cut it another time. She pinned her hair up in a neat bun and, with a sigh, and a breath of freshly-filtered air, she began the walk to the bridge. 

the Spire was system patrol ship which, before it anchored to the Windfall, had been famous for it’s role is battles over and above the planets of Mercury and Mars. Roughly 800 meters in length and 300 in width, the Spire boasted refurbished ion engines for space travel, Methane burning thrusters for atmospheric travel, a small but substantial nuclear reactor, and an array of weapons ranging from ballistic, to laser, to missiles. Each of the Spire’s systems, she was certain, had been checked by her captain, but she double checked them anyways.

Arriving on the bridge, Ashley saw Captain Maxwell standing, not sitting, behind his chair, speaking with Thomas, probably about the detachment procedures. In the far distance and out of the viewport, she thought she could identify Teagarden, the red dwarf that indicated what would soon be their home, Teagarden B.

All of this, Ashley was barely able to take in and process before her captain bore down on her. 

“You’re late.” Maxwell said, an edge of irritation in his voice. 

“Yes, sir.” She replied, firmly, refusing to be cowed. She had only barely met Captain Maxwell before they’d all been ordered to stasis, and she was not about let his first impression of her be of a weak, cowardly little girl from Wiesbaden. “I am. I regret to inform you that the ion engine capacitors were not accepting their full capacity. Had I not corrected the error, we would have been floating upon detachment from Windfall.” 

Maxwell looked at her a moment, appearing to consider her. “Sir, I do not make excuses, only explanations, and that is mine.”

At this, Maxwell’s intense gaze met hers. “And what do you make as the difference between the two?”

Ashley stood slightly taller, meeting his gaze. “Excuses are used to get out of trouble. Explanations are used to accept responsibility.” 

Maxwell continued to peer into her eyes, apparently reading her soul. “Sir, I apologize for my tardiness.”

“apology unnecessary, and thus unaccepted.” Maxwell smiled and turned back to his command chair, “good job catching those capacitors. Take your position at the helm, tell me what the you see.”

For a moment, Ashley did nothing, marveling at what had just occurred. Accepting it, she proceeded to the helm where she would normally input directional commands to their pilot and monitor the status boards of all of the stations on the bridge, but seeing as the stations were at the moment silent… 

She saw it. The passive sensors display, which would receive and interpret energy and light without emitting any themselves, was showing what appeared to be four massive objects within range of the Spire. The Red dwarf sun Teagarden, Teagarden B, and Teagarden A, a planet which was believed to be uninhabitable by humans, and an anomaly.

“Captain, it appears as though there is an object of significant mass in the solar system. There should only be three masses on this sensor board at this range, but there are four.”

“Excellent, Lieutenant,” Maxwell praised, “do you have any hypothesis as to what that mass might be?”

“Sir, it is significantly smaller than either the planets or the sun. It also appears to be orbiting Teagarden B.”

“and Teagarden B should have no satellites.” Thomas added, annoyed. 

“Sir, how do we already have this data? The sensor station should not be able to have extrapolated an orbit - especially one which shouldn’t exist but - in this amount of time.” Ashley asked, another question growing on her mind. “And what of the other captains and their AI? Have they not been tracking the same data? What are their thoughts?”

“We received this telemetry from the Windfall. They are using active sensors. And you and I are up early. There is nobody to handle this but you and me.” Maxwell stated it with a touch of amusement. This was a puzzle for him to solve, and he relished the opportunity. 

Nobody but you, me, and the AI. Not that they could consult any but Thomas, Ashley considered ruefully. AI were not allowed to communicate to anyone outside of their ships except under command of their captains, and never to other AI, and for good reason. 

“The other crews will be waking up in the next 24 hours, and we should arrive at Teagarden B in 36,” Maxwell provided, “and by the time we arrive, I need to know what that mass is.”

A thought occurred Ashley. “Sir, can we raise the crew? Our ship is smaller and faster than the Windfall. We could get close to the mass without endangering the Windfall or her crews. 

“Thomas, how long would it take to raise the civilian crew and evacuate them to the Windfall?” Maxwell asked, clearly considering the possibility.

“The civillians can be raised and summarily forced to exit in a matter of 3 hours, providing them time to dress, gather their things, and exit.”

“Fine, raise the civillians and half of my crew. The civillians are to exit this ship and enter the Windfall. They have 2 hours. The first half of my crew will be thawed out and will report to their stations. They have an hour and a half. The rest will be woken up after we detach from the Windfall.”

“Yes, Captain. Raising the civillians and crew as requested,” Thomas replied with, what sounded like excitement. Ashley guessed it was because he’d never seen the ship with more than two crew members awake on it. 

“Lieutenant,” Maxwell called to her, “You will oversee the crew. Ensure they look like a crew, and ensure their stations are prepped. I want the pilots in the ready room, gunners at their batteries, and officers on this bridge.” 

Ashley nodded, “Yes, sir, I will see it done.” She could hear the excitement in her voice, just as shed hear it in Thomas. This was, after all,  the first time she would see the Spire fully manned and ready for combat.”

 

 

 

Chapter Three

As Lieutenant Ashley stood at her position behind helm, facing the viewport of the bridge, she marveled at the hull of the Spire. Her eyes caught the shimmering lining of the ship and wondered at how, merely 75 years ago, man had only just invented the technology to form the crystalline exterior which protected the titanium panels underneath. Light, dense, and tougher than diamonds, it was a a beautiful miracle which had saved the lives of countless men and woman engaged in battles before her time. 

Time, of course, did not allow for many observations of this kind. 4 hours had passed since Captain Maxwell had ordered his crew awake, his pilots to their fighters, and his officers to the bridge, now buzzing with activity. 

It had, after all, been 25 years since the spire had last flown under it’s own power. Parts needed to be replaced, depleted capacitors exchanged for new ones, long dead magnet energized, Xenon chambers inspected, and all of it had to happen in short order and under the threat of attack. 

The Captain, for his part, sat silently in his chair, his thumb and fist cupping his freshly shaven chin, his piercing blue eyes, lined with age, bearing down on Thomas as he provided updates on the progress of his ship’s repairs. The Spire was not the newest ship in the UESF fleet, nor was she the grandest, or the most powerful, but she was among the fastest and most agile, despite her age. 

Though the superior exoskeleton and improved thrusters on the ship hid a few weaknesses. For one, the Spire’s electrical system was antiquated, barely capable of ionizing the Xenon gas which propelled the ship. Fuses, it seemed, blew commonly. No one quite knew why, the ship had been inspected and reinspected for the cause of the problem, but no-one, not even Ashley, for all of her experience with advanced electronics, could identify the cause. 

“Lieutenant,” Maxwell called to her from behind, his voice gruff with age and experience, “order the ships bearing adjusted. I want to approach Teagarden B from the opposite pole on which the Satellite is orbiting.”

Ashley caught the eye of their navigations officer a few paces to the starboard side of the bridge, and nodded. “It is done, sir.”

“Good.”

Ashley was new to the command position. She’d only graduated the Academy in Sydney a few years ago, or rather, 27 years ago by the clock on the bridge. Her first position had been as a weapons officer aboard the UESF Marin, during which time she studied the command of the near-incompetent Mid-captain Cris Johnson who, of course, was still anchored to the Windfall which floated far behind them now. By her count, the remaining captains and their crews would only now be beginning their preparations to detach from Windfall, somewhere above the planet. 

The Spire on the other hand, a dozen hours ahead of them, was getting ready to identify, catalogue, and perhaps even engage in combat with the out-of-place anomaly orbiting Teagarden B, which should have no such object in orbit. 

“Captain,” Ashley asked aloud, her hands tucked in the small of her back as she addressed her senior officer, “what is your plan? If the object is hostile, I mean.”

“We have two missions at this time, lieutenant,” Maxwell’s flat, firm voice grated against her ears. How had 15 years in the UESF done this to a man already? “The first is to ensure that Teagarden B is same for the Windfall to approach.”

“And the second?” She asked, suspicion growing. She’d assumed that the captain had risen them as a precaution, now she suspected that there was something he was not telling her. 

“All in due time, Lieutenant,” the Captains tone made it clear that the discussion was over. Then why had he mentioned it to her? 

One thing is for sure, Ashley thought with a frown, excusing herself from the bridge to check in on the electrical closet, I was right. He is hiding something.