To a person, every member of the vessel’s company had rejected the notion of turning back. Like Pham herself, several of her shipmates had spent their entire lives in this business, following in the footsteps of several generations who had aided in the Federation’s expansion into even the minuscule portion of the galaxy that had been explored. For them, it was a simple issue: a contract was a contract.
Doesn’t mean we have to be stupid about it,Pham reminded herself. Let’s get this over with and get the hell out of here.
As if the Plateauitself might be agreeing with her, a green indicator light at the center of the navigation station began flashing in time to a steady, repeating beep. Reaching across his own console, McTravis touched a control, and the tone halted. He took a moment to study the array of gauges and readouts before clearing his throat.
“Entering standard orbit.” He tapped another series of buttons. In response, the image on the viewscreen shifted to that of a lush, green world. “There it is: Lerais II. Not a bad-looking planet, at least compared with some of the other dirtballs we’ve seen out here.”
Pham shrugged. “According to what I’ve read, this is one of the more promising candidates for large-scale farming.” Looking to the screen, she noted the layers of clouds obscuring portions of the planet’s four major landmasses and snowcaps highlighting both poles. “If the experts are right, in a couple of years, this planet might well find itself at the center of a whole new agricultural boom.”
“You sound almost envious,” McTravis countered, his tone teasing. “Thinking about staking a claim?”
Rolling her eyes, Pham could not resist a smile. This conversation, or some variant, echoed around the Plateau’s bridge whenever she voiced knowledge of or—heavens forbid—even interest in any of the numerous planets they visited, to the point where either she or McTravis could recite both sides of the discussion with the passion and verve of seasoned performers.
“I just might surprise you one of these days,” she said, in keeping with how the verbal volley usually ended. After all, both she and McTravis knew that making a home on some far-flung planet was an unlikely possibility for either of them, or most of the Plateau’s crew, for that matter. While Pham took every opportunity to enjoy the fresh air and unrestricted freedom offered by any port of call after a long voyage, like her longtime friend and partner, she was most at home in space.
Not that a decent nonreconstituted meal or a long, hot bath along with a bottle of wine won’t go unnoticed or unappreciated,she reminded herself. Those things and more awaited the crew on the planet below, but only after they handled the more pressing business. Get back to work.Leaning forward in her seat, Pham keyed the ship’s communications system and opened a standard hailing frequency.
“New Anchorage Control, this is the transport vessel Bacchus Plateau.We are entering standard orbit and are ready to receive landing instructions at your convenience.” With her initial greeting complete, Pham touched a control on the panel above her head to transmit the Plateau’s identification codes and shipping manifest to the colony’s orbital traffic administrator.
After a brief pause, a deep masculine voice blared from the bridge’s intercom, “Bacchus Plateau, this is New Anchorage. Welcome to Lerais II. According to our logs, you’re almost a week early. Hope your trip was uneventful.”
“That’s one word for it,” McTravis replied, unworried that his comment might be picked up by the comm system. Pointing to one readout situated on the console between them, he added, “We’re receiving landing information now.”
“Bacchus Plateau,” continued the voice from New Anchorage, “Orbital Tracking has cleared you for landing maneuvers. You are authorized to commence powered descent to the designated coordinates.”
“Acknowledged, New Anchorage,” Pham replied. “Preparing to initiate landing sequence.” Closing the comm circuit, she initiated a cross-check of the provided coordinates against a quick sensor scan and landing information she had been given upon accepting the job. New Anchorage was situated just less than one hundred kilometers inland from the northern coastline of the continent straddling the equator in Lerais II’s eastern hemisphere. Within seconds, Pham was able to confirm the Plateau’s intended target. The coordinates coincided with the area of land designated for what would evolve into the colony’s main industrial district—specifically, a vast open tract adjacent to what eventually would become a commercial transportation hub. At present, the facilities were rudimentary, consisting largely of whatever equipment the settlers had brought with them and the small, functional buildings they had erected since arriving. Still, Pham knew that in just a few short years, the planet would be capable of offering full landing support as well as maintenance and repair services to incoming vessels both on the surface and in orbit.
Until then, ships like the Bacchus Plateauwere on their own, trusted by the residents of Lerais II not to plow into their colony while attempting to land.
“Okay, Josh,” Pham said, reaching for her console and keying the instructions to transfer the coordinates to the helm and activate the automated landing protocols. “Here we go.”
A crimson alert indicator flashed on her station, accompanied by a shrill alarm whine that echoed across the confines of the bridge.
McTravis pointed to one of the sensor displays. “Proximity alert. There’s another ship, coming in fast.” Hunching over the console, he scowled. “It just dropped out of warp, and damned close. Whoever they are, they must be idiots or suicidal.”
What the hell?Her stomach churned in reaction to the abrupt turn of events. There were many reasons for ships not to travel at warp close to planets, including the possibility of flying into said planets or even another vessel in orbit. “Sensors,” she ordered.
“Already on it,” McTravis replied.
Keying the hailing frequency once more, Pham called out, “New Anchorage, this is the Bacchus Plateau.We’ve got other traffic up here. What’s the story?” Without her conscious control, Pham’s right hand tapped the controls to cancel the landing sequence. Her fingers already were beginning to enter the commands to give her full helm control.
“Plateau, this is—”
Static belched from the speakers, drowning out the voice of the New Anchorage orbital control tech. Wincing at the assault on her ears, Pham slammed her hand down on the switch to close the frequency, once more plunging the cramped bridge into merciful near-silence.
“We’re being jammed,” McTravis said, grunting through gritted teeth. “Whoever it is, they don’t want us talking to—”
Pham heard his sharp intake of breath and snapped her head in his direction in time to see the look of disbelief on her friend’s face. Prying his eyes from his console, McTravis turned to her, and Pham watched the color drain from his face, the expression of astonishment twisting into one of horror.