It had been a long day, and Commander Nireem sat in his small office/sleeping compartment, enjoying the quiet. His office was behind a sliding panel on one side of the passageway that led to the ship's Command Center. It was just large enough to accommodate a meeting with one other person. A flat panel monitor could bring up video from 22 cameras inside and outside the spacecraft. He could also access any information available on the command console monitors.
He opened a small safe for holding confidential documents and his Zimkom-14, a hand weapon that fired small, revolving projectiles. It was an antique by Tridon standards. His grandfather had used it in the Civil Disobedience and passed it down to his father. The weapon used cartridges, unlike modern laser weapons. It was like an old friend. After holding it and checking to be sure the chamber was empty, he squeezed the trigger and enjoyed the sound of the hammer falling. Then he returned it to the safe and locked the door.
The Space Directorate had banned all weapons like the Zimkom-14 from spacecraft because the bullets could penetrate the ship's hull. The authorities prohibited all weapons like this on Tridon. They ignored Amillikut hunters who used them and a few Rabizut and Mamlaka who had exemptions for hunting.
Crew members were authorized to use stun-laser pistols, which worked well at short distances. The weapons locker held more powerful long-range laser rifles.
Only the three senior officers could authorize the use of the laser rifles. Each officer had the access code to the weapons locker.
Nireem had one last task. His secure communications channel display showed he had received an encoded HSM file just before Mission Launch and indicated it would be available after Mission Day Six.
HSM files use the latest holographic security technology. Nireem liked simple and reliable methods and thought this holographic communication method was too complicated. But he would admit having a visual of the person giving the message added something. The bureaucrats on the ground loved the latest technology. He wondered what new revelations might await him this time.
The clock in his compartment indicated he could open the HSM in a few minutes. It was time to execute the hologram projector's decode function and watch. It always took a short time before the actual content started.
The three-dimensional icon for the Space Directorate hovered in the space in front of him. Then, the image changed to the Director. The projector controlled the size of the holographic image and could increase it to life-size for use with larger groups.
Then the Director stared straight at him and started to speak. His voice was natural with an authoritative quality.
“Commander Nireem:
These are your final orders and a more detailed explanation of the purpose of this mission.
At your discretion and when you judge the time to be correct, you may share this information with your officers and crewmembers.
Likewise, you may share this with your passengers at a time of your choosing. None of this information has been revealed to any of them.
This mission was made necessary by an awful discovery more than two years ago by our Astrophysics Science Center. Their researchers discovered that Jua had exhausted much of its hydrogen and was transforming into a red giant. It is expanding and will engulf Tridon in intense radiation that will end all life.
There was denial at all levels when scientists made the first findings. But then, more studies confirmed their research. Finally, the painful conclusion was that the only hope of saving our species was to find a new home.
Your mission is to take a carefully selected group of our people to planet 26q395-3. We chose this new home after extensive analysis.
Our best spaceships could only be modified to make a one-way trip. Your orders are to transport your passengers to their new planet and to lead their effort to colonize it.
This order includes taking command of the initial colonies until they can sustain life and increase their population.
Be aware there are Mamlaka among your passengers. Your command authority exceeds theirs. Designate who will take over your command in the event circumstances require it.
Commander, we know being unable to return to Tridon will be painful for you and your crew. We wish it were not the case, but now you know why.
We wish you and your ship safe passage and success in establishing our species on their new planet home.”
A chill ran through his body as he absorbed the words. He replayed the hologram to convince himself he hadn’t misunderstood his orders.
Not ever seeing his homeland again was hard to accept. He had spent much of his adult life in space, but still, he had fond memories of Tridon. He took annual leave there and shared wonderful times with dear friends—friends he would never see again. Sadly, he had to tell his officers and crew they would never return to be with their families and friends.
He quietly swore at the Space Operations Directorate—he needed someone to blame, even knowing what Tridon faced would be worse.
Nireem now realized this flight would be longer and more complex than he had imagined. This mission would be the most challenging ever undertaken by Tridon's space program.
And he knew enough astrophysics to be sure Tridon's best scientists didn’t have an inkling of what he and his fellow travelers would find on the surface at their destination. He reflected on some of the terrible places past missions had taken him. This mission was a desperate gamble. The mission's name, New Dawn, expressed the hope this long-shot attempt to save their species would succeed.
Sitting in the quiet of his small compartment, the Commander thought about what he needed to do. First up was the Mission Departure Briefing scheduled for tomorrow morning. Now he understood why the operations directorate told him to do it on Mission Day Seven.
Nireem sat in deep thought for some time. Then, finally, he reached three decisions. First, he would only tell his crew that they would not return. He would ask them all to come to the Command Center. When told their mission's destination, they would quickly figure out there could be no return. It would take some time for them to absorb the news. Best to get that over with before some crisis demands their full attention. He would not tell the passengers until they were far into the voyage.
Second, he would direct his navigators to learn everything they could about planet 26q395-3 and its neighbors in space. They had to determine the best flight plan. It wasn’t too early to start thinking about what they might encounter. He feared they were ill-prepared for what lay ahead.
Third, he would ask the medical specialists to gather information on each passenger. His passenger manifest told him their name, age, and previous occupation. And their micro-chip implants might add a little more. But he wanted to know what they brought to the mission—their experience, leadership ability, and special skills. The Directorate had carefully selected this group but never shared their criteria with the Commander.
Then, he prepared his compartment for a night's sleep. He lay there for a long time, wondering what was ahead of them. He dreaded having to tell the crew they would never return.