Gran left the station still fighting with the launch people. I have her voice saved hoping that some day Engineering can spare the power to let me restore it from the archives. I know now that it likely will never happen, but hope is the one fuel we never need to conserve.
Earth is what we tell the youngers so they understand the vibrations from the bulkheads. Four ships went out. Same day, same idea. We were supposed to stay a family. Nobody accounted for the hard truth that Light is slow. After a while, the only thing that got through was a ping.
“We are still alive.”
That was it. No baby names. No jokes. I remember waiting up for those pings. Eventually you stop; not because you are no longer interested…it’s just easier not to worry.
We all began to decelerate at different times. The tragic irony is that nobody died; I think.
We just missed.
We are onboard Boreas, with her gleaming white hull. We continue to follow our original mission. Find the others; do the work. Notos is going to be in some beautiful mess of cloud…she was always the dreamer. I would bet money if we still used money Eurus had a bad deceleration. You can almost hear the strain in their pings. Zephyrus never said what they were doing. They still ping…I suppose that has to be enough for now.
We all had the same back-up plan. If you lose the others, make for the infant off the east flank.
Holmberg IX
A little newborn dwarf that wasn’t even visible to us when we left. After you slow down you cannot yell a heading across this much sky. Until a message makes it to your family…you are just a page in a family history. I long to meet the others.
The journey has been so long and we’ve been so alone. Well, besides the others we’ve met out here…
Maybe the isolation has become so unbearable because every duty shift on the bridge is the same…
Our Captain decides the path we should take. No controls to distract them, we are their instruments.
Helm has control over our tired ship. Sub-light travel while in system and Warping space-time when we have to stretch our legs.
Tactical for when force is required. Hopefully, it never comes to that.
Engineering keeps the lights on. They flicker, fail, and with some coaxing and love…come back on.
Science scans the neighborhood and feeds information to the crew. The eyes, ears, and pulse of the ‘verse.
Relay talks to strangers and to our Shipmind. Communication is key; the wrong tone, the wrong meaning, the wrong message…and we have less friends out here than what we started with.
You cannot do your station and ignore the others. I have seen a beautiful warp fail because the Engineer didn’t know we needed the power. We have lost friends and allies because Science didn’t think to look at what is out there. And our dear Captain...every decision brings us one step closer to Family...or one step closer to a strike-through entry in the Family Album.
If we are told to hold, we hold together or we become scrap. About twenty minutes a job. Six seats, One home.
I long for that meeting. I want a conversation that is not a solitary ping. Holmberg IX is our goal; staying alive is our charter.
Mira
Helm Officer
+21 Cycles after Deceleration
