The Hecate

Posted on Thu Jul 13th, 2023 @ 2:46am by Captain Robert Burke

1,087 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: EPISODE 1: SHAKEDOWN
Location: Mars - Utopia Planitia One
Timeline: Five days prior to launch

::ON::

The last of the thin Martian atmosphere slipped away, leaving the small inter-orbital shuttle reaching into the gossamer night. Wearing a freshly-pressed uniform, Burke looked up from the data slate he was reading from to look out the shuttle’s small side porthole.
Fundamentally, Mars looked much like it had in 2009 when the first humans landed on the planet. In the hundreds of years since those first tentative steps onto another world, humanity’s dipping of a toe in the ocean, they had been hard at work transforming the surface of an entire planet to serve their needs.

It was, Burke thought, humanity’s singlemost ambitious project, one that would span even Vulcan lifetimes to achieve. Even now a person could still see some of the original Zubrin craters – entire Martian craters covered in a thin nanoplastic membrane to effect terraforming a few hundred hectares at a time – preserved by the Consortium in recognition of those first pioneering steps.

By now, those first Zubrin settlements, and the larger domed cities that dotted the Martian surface, were largely redundant. Mars had a breathable atmosphere, a thin Zubrin-like film to protect the citizens of the Confederated Martian Colonies from the harshness of space. Dotted about the surface were the reminders of the struggle to get to that point, autonomous robotic probes, automated mining facilities, and the ruins of domed cities from the Martian War of Independence.

Burke knew that the spark for the War, the ruin of Gundersdotter’s Dome was somewhere on the nightside of Mars, out of their view. He fancied he saw a lake, one of the very few now beginning to dot the surface of Mars. One day, he knew the ambition was to have at least shallow seas covering portions of the planet’s surface. Even now, though, that was an ambition that would wait a hundred years or more to come to fruition.

He sighed in contentment as he watched the surface slip away. Craning his neck he searched for the web of spacedocks, construction platforms, administrative centers and resupply depots that had quickly filled Martian orbital space.

‘You’ll get a better view from up here, Captain,’ came the soft, sibilant voice of the shuttle’s pilot. Burke glanced in the direction of the cabin and smiled. Hoisting himself up, Burke rearranged the co-pilot’s chair as he fit his rangy frame into it. He flashed a wider smile at the Saurian pilot. ‘Thanks.’

The pilot made the Saurian approximation of a chuckle as he adjusted one chameleon-like eye on the human. ‘You’re not the first officer I’ve ferried who’s been interested in Utopia Planitia.’ The eye swivelled back to the helm controls before fixing on Burke once more, ‘it’s the most extensive and comprehensive shipyard and testing site outside of Vulcan and Andor. And the only one completely at Starfleet’s disposal.’

Burke nodded. He’d read the news reports and Starfleet briefings over the years. Another impressive achievement realised in his lifetime.

‘What’s your name crewman?’ Burke asked after a short pause.

‘My Saurian name is,’ the Saurian began before lapsing into the Saurian language, eye swivelling to focus on Burke once more and ending in that peculiar reptilian chuckle, ‘but most of my colleagues call me Ian.’ He chuckled once more.
‘Well, uh, Ian,’ Burke continued, a little non-plussed, ‘how did you find yourself in Starfleet?’

Ian let his jaw hang open in an unsettling Saurian approximation of a grin at Burke’s acknowledgment of his name. ‘I was the last of my clutchmates to be born,’ he observed, several shades of colour washing through the lizardman’s skin. ‘As such they were apportioned prime positions within my clutchfather’s enterprises. Most of them have ended up in the Saurian brandy business.’ He shrugged, ‘you probably know that’s not just big business back home. For many it is the lifeblood of our civilisation.’

‘I decided that a lowly position within the family business was … not for me, shall we say. So I applied to Starfleet as a pilot trainee, and her I am. A certified shuttle pilot at the center of galactic activity. Not bad for the twenty-third born, wouldn’t you say?’
Burke chuckled, ‘not bad at all. Your next berth will be a starship then?’

Another eye swivel and colour change rippling across the skin. ‘Possibly. I enjoy the deserts of Earth. Particularly Oceania. Some interesting and delicious fauna I find.’

Nodding his head, Burke turned from the gantry that flew by the shuttle’s viewport. ‘Yes I suppose there are some very comfortable places on Earth for you,’ he shrugged, ‘and if being at the center of galactic life is for you, then Earth is certainly the place.’
‘And you, Captain,’ Ian replied with as sly a grin as a Saurian could manage, ‘a quiet berth for you next?’

Burke chuckled, ‘heavens no.’ He fell silent for a moment before continuing. ‘Human lifespans aren’t quite as long as a Saurian’s. There’s plenty of time for you to make your mark in Starfleet, above and beyond your service already. In a century you could still be captaining starships. I don’t have nearly that amount of time to make an impact. It’s now or never for me.’

The shuttle lapsed into a thoughtful silence as Ian skilfully navigated them through a tangled web of construction girders, welding waldos and workerbees plating the hull of a Centaur-class vessel. ‘The USS Chiron.’ He looked over at the human, ‘not your vessel I think.’

Smiling once more, Burke quietly shook his head as he observed the Excelsior-class vessel’s support craft being assembled.
As the shuttlecraft entered high orbit, the cluttered space around the sprawling Utopia Planitia Yards began to clear. Gone were most of the assembly stations, what was left was minor debris from construction – metal shards that had sheared off, tools that had escaped their workers, and bolts that had frustrated their users.

Set at a jaunty angle to his horizon, Burke saw a Regula-class facility hove into view. As he leaned against the control console, he could see that a ship was docked against one of the habitat zones. It gleamed against the darkness of space. The clean and crisp white and duck-egg blue trim of the ship spoke of its newness, its potential.

‘Hecate,’ Burke said breathily.

[To Be Continued ...]

::OFF::

Captain Robert Burke
Commanding Officer
USS Hecate

Petty Officer 'Ian'
Shuttlepilot
Utopia Station One

 

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