Advent Calendar December 1
By popular vote of one the beloved Advent Calendar returns.
The Market Squared
Part one
Hundreds of thousands of ships jump in and out of hyperspace all over the quadrant at any given minute. Couriers, freighters, personal carriers and shuttles scurry back and forth between the four-dimensional space and the hostile environment of hyperspace ferrying people and freight between solar systems, asteroid mining bases and space stations.
It is the most common thing in the booming economy between nations recovering from the first interstellar war in human history.
A kilometer-long spaceship dropping out of hyperspace less than a hundred meters away. Now that was something quite remarkable and anything but normal. Shé’cai sha I'en-Rhin, driven by existential boredom had taken a little walk on his ship’s exterior and was now enjoying the view. The probability for such an occurrence, such close proximity to a reentry, must be very close to zero, very close. He had ducked instinctively as the space-time-fabric was ripped apart right over his head. Shé’cai fought down the terror that had gripped him when he had caught a glimpse of the dimension behind reality. What he perceived there was too terrifying, too incomprehensible and so essentially alien it made him physically sick. Still, the twirling un-colors, the red beyond red and the mind wrapping non-space called out to him, echoing in his mind. With an incredible effort of will Shé’cai blocked off his extra sensory perception, squeezed his inner eyes shut, before his mind overloaded with the unbelievable energy patterns.
Death by curiosity, Shé’cai was pretty sure that was going to be his destiny in the end, but maybe not quite today. Now, with his ESP capability safely closed off he could indulge in watching the immense spacecraft drifting past him. The massive drives were quiet and the ship drifted like space junk silently towards the sun. Small asteroids tumbled against the hull bursting into a thousand glittering shards of ice that raced out into eternity at a high velocity not even denting the 30 meters of armor plating.
Shé’cai flipped around and fired the maneuvering rockets; he sent an emergency code to his craft’s computer ordering it to spring open the air lock closest to him. The shards that raced towards him would rip through the five millimeters of armor plating on his space battle suit within seconds.
As the first arm-long ragged shard whirled past his head, he dived into the open lock.
Without any pretence of elegance he smashed into the opposite wall and without the automatic gravity lock he would have bounced back into space out into the deadly hail of ice. He slammed his fist against the emergency locks button and leaned against the inner door.
For a long time Shé’cai did nothing but breathe.
“Tren’rai!” he murmured. When the display in his helmet showed him that there was enough oxygen in the small chamber he folded back his visor.
Shé’cai hurried back to his cockpit. The blow had reawakened the piercing headache that had been his constant companion for the last year or so. He fumbled for his med-kit and got out the pain-killers - another constant.
He swallowed the pill as he slipped behind the helm. The consoles came alive to his touch. The small but fast courier ship woke, trembling. The engines’ vibrations always gave Shé’cai the impression of a hunter poised to launch itself at its prey, one of the reasons Shé’cai liked the ship so much - the sense of kinship. He had named her Shi’iva after one of his home world’s elegant sea hunters. He found the ships long curves bore a great resemblance to the streamlined form of the marine mammals. And like her namesakes she sang; not as beautifully like the famous harmonies of the shi’iva, whose name could be translated as either 'child of the waves' or 'child of the song'; but she did have her own rugged, rough song - a strange harmony of moving parts, engines and air circulation. Great rhythm, though.
Outside, the shadow of the titanic freighter passed, as it started its engines. The blasts, the main engines jettisoned were at least two-hundred meters long and bathed the Shi’ivas cockpit in brilliant light. The brightness highlighted the battered corners and scratched monitors inside the worn ship.
The Shi’iva was an old ship, a relic from the early years of the war, but it looked a lot worse that it actually was. The engines, that had been over-hauled and optimized to guarantee perfect performance, made it one of the fastest things in the quadrant. The interior of the shabby looking vessel that used to carry a crew of five had been modified to create a semi comfortable home base for a single pilot.
The sudden light hurt Shé’cais eyes and sent another bolt of agony into his brain. Cursing softly he put his left hand on the base of his skull and applied pressure to the place were that damned piece of cyberware had been forced on him. The pressure helped a little, but for more than a year now his body tried to reject the foreign body, tried to recreate its proper la’en, its true form. The thing, however, was logged in to deeply and caused a permanent battle between hurt and healing, a reaction not quite similar to having an allergic reaction. The pain, at least, could be fought with drugs but nothing could be done about the perpetual itch. Shé’cai gritted his teeth and concentrated on the readings Shi’iva gave him about his target.
It was the Market - no doubt about it. Now he could see why the ship had been set to drift when it reentered norm-space, the normal four-dimensional space. Dozens of ships were docked all over the Markets exterior. It was a motley collection of all kinds of space ships. Shé’cai whistled when he recognized the Lady Errant an old beaten-up human battle cruiser, that had been reported as destroyed. It made him feel absurdly happy. Shé’cai smiled. He had mourned the loss of the Lady. He had served as Psi-support on the Lady, for a year, back during the war. Maybe some of his friends were still alive.
“Don’t get distracted boy!” he told himself.
He had waited for nearly two months for the Market to appear. He had not expected to meet old comrades in arms here - that ship could represent a major complication. On the other hand the sheer size of the Market ought to offer enough protection. The reports spoke of tens of thousands of people of a dozen species populating the ship.
What else?
It is a sin
This one is (not only) for Mad Freddy
And the marvelous Bohemian Muppet Rapsody
if you have time watch their "ode to joy" as well.
The Market Squared
Part one
Hundreds of thousands of ships jump in and out of hyperspace all over the quadrant at any given minute. Couriers, freighters, personal carriers and shuttles scurry back and forth between the four-dimensional space and the hostile environment of hyperspace ferrying people and freight between solar systems, asteroid mining bases and space stations.
It is the most common thing in the booming economy between nations recovering from the first interstellar war in human history.
A kilometer-long spaceship dropping out of hyperspace less than a hundred meters away. Now that was something quite remarkable and anything but normal. Shé’cai sha I'en-Rhin, driven by existential boredom had taken a little walk on his ship’s exterior and was now enjoying the view. The probability for such an occurrence, such close proximity to a reentry, must be very close to zero, very close. He had ducked instinctively as the space-time-fabric was ripped apart right over his head. Shé’cai fought down the terror that had gripped him when he had caught a glimpse of the dimension behind reality. What he perceived there was too terrifying, too incomprehensible and so essentially alien it made him physically sick. Still, the twirling un-colors, the red beyond red and the mind wrapping non-space called out to him, echoing in his mind. With an incredible effort of will Shé’cai blocked off his extra sensory perception, squeezed his inner eyes shut, before his mind overloaded with the unbelievable energy patterns.
Death by curiosity, Shé’cai was pretty sure that was going to be his destiny in the end, but maybe not quite today. Now, with his ESP capability safely closed off he could indulge in watching the immense spacecraft drifting past him. The massive drives were quiet and the ship drifted like space junk silently towards the sun. Small asteroids tumbled against the hull bursting into a thousand glittering shards of ice that raced out into eternity at a high velocity not even denting the 30 meters of armor plating.
Shé’cai flipped around and fired the maneuvering rockets; he sent an emergency code to his craft’s computer ordering it to spring open the air lock closest to him. The shards that raced towards him would rip through the five millimeters of armor plating on his space battle suit within seconds.
As the first arm-long ragged shard whirled past his head, he dived into the open lock.
Without any pretence of elegance he smashed into the opposite wall and without the automatic gravity lock he would have bounced back into space out into the deadly hail of ice. He slammed his fist against the emergency locks button and leaned against the inner door.
For a long time Shé’cai did nothing but breathe.
“Tren’rai!” he murmured. When the display in his helmet showed him that there was enough oxygen in the small chamber he folded back his visor.
Shé’cai hurried back to his cockpit. The blow had reawakened the piercing headache that had been his constant companion for the last year or so. He fumbled for his med-kit and got out the pain-killers - another constant.
He swallowed the pill as he slipped behind the helm. The consoles came alive to his touch. The small but fast courier ship woke, trembling. The engines’ vibrations always gave Shé’cai the impression of a hunter poised to launch itself at its prey, one of the reasons Shé’cai liked the ship so much - the sense of kinship. He had named her Shi’iva after one of his home world’s elegant sea hunters. He found the ships long curves bore a great resemblance to the streamlined form of the marine mammals. And like her namesakes she sang; not as beautifully like the famous harmonies of the shi’iva, whose name could be translated as either 'child of the waves' or 'child of the song'; but she did have her own rugged, rough song - a strange harmony of moving parts, engines and air circulation. Great rhythm, though.
Outside, the shadow of the titanic freighter passed, as it started its engines. The blasts, the main engines jettisoned were at least two-hundred meters long and bathed the Shi’ivas cockpit in brilliant light. The brightness highlighted the battered corners and scratched monitors inside the worn ship.
The Shi’iva was an old ship, a relic from the early years of the war, but it looked a lot worse that it actually was. The engines, that had been over-hauled and optimized to guarantee perfect performance, made it one of the fastest things in the quadrant. The interior of the shabby looking vessel that used to carry a crew of five had been modified to create a semi comfortable home base for a single pilot.
The sudden light hurt Shé’cais eyes and sent another bolt of agony into his brain. Cursing softly he put his left hand on the base of his skull and applied pressure to the place were that damned piece of cyberware had been forced on him. The pressure helped a little, but for more than a year now his body tried to reject the foreign body, tried to recreate its proper la’en, its true form. The thing, however, was logged in to deeply and caused a permanent battle between hurt and healing, a reaction not quite similar to having an allergic reaction. The pain, at least, could be fought with drugs but nothing could be done about the perpetual itch. Shé’cai gritted his teeth and concentrated on the readings Shi’iva gave him about his target.
It was the Market - no doubt about it. Now he could see why the ship had been set to drift when it reentered norm-space, the normal four-dimensional space. Dozens of ships were docked all over the Markets exterior. It was a motley collection of all kinds of space ships. Shé’cai whistled when he recognized the Lady Errant an old beaten-up human battle cruiser, that had been reported as destroyed. It made him feel absurdly happy. Shé’cai smiled. He had mourned the loss of the Lady. He had served as Psi-support on the Lady, for a year, back during the war. Maybe some of his friends were still alive.
“Don’t get distracted boy!” he told himself.
He had waited for nearly two months for the Market to appear. He had not expected to meet old comrades in arms here - that ship could represent a major complication. On the other hand the sheer size of the Market ought to offer enough protection. The reports spoke of tens of thousands of people of a dozen species populating the ship.
What else?
It is a sin
This one is (not only) for Mad Freddy
And the marvelous Bohemian Muppet Rapsody
if you have time watch their "ode to joy" as well.