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Thankfully, it’s something that can be done without compromising the time to make the jump calculations. As S-19 and the navicomputer begins to run the astrogation check again, the freighter and its fighter escort begin scouting for the perfect asteroid. It takes only five minutes for them to report an ideal candidate – a lumpy, frozen asteroid three times the mass and size of the <span class="mu-i">Albatross</span>. It takes another ten for the freighter to touch down and disgorge the probe and its away team.
“Damned shame this wasn’t back on Amagi,” grumbles an MSDF engineer over the comm.
That gets some laughs. “We got the Chiller now, so no point in bellyaching.”
“But think of how many tons this is! Or how many fighters we could trade for giving this to the Teladi.”
“Dibs,” jokes Jolt-Seven, maintaining a gyro-synchronous position around the asteroid with Jolt-Eight and Jolt-Nine.
The banter is unprofessional and unbecoming of proper radio etiquette. But it does help bleed some of the tension in your gut. Not completely, though.
More minutes follow, occasionally punctuated by more banter. But the cockpit of the <span class="mu-i">Albatross</span> remains dead silent, save for the beeps of S-19 and the noises of the consoles and sensory stations. Progress for the new calculation can’t come fast enough, but it’s nearly finished. It looks like the hyperspace route would be realized before the probe finished-
<span class="mu-i">BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.</span>
Everyone jumps as the sensor suite beeps a warning. With your heart only inches away from your throat, you swallow and check the computer. You scan for any hostile IFFs, or unknown reactor signatures, only to find nothing of the sort. With a frown, cycle your tools, switching your options from radar to IR/thermal…
There! The warning comes from the site of the probe. You spy the thermal signatures of the engineers, and the sight of their fusion torches and equipment boring holes into the ice. Close behind, the freighter comes across as an almost yellow-red light indicative of a dormant reactor on standby. But it hadn’t been any of those that had tripped the warning.
The Force remains silent, but your gut churns. “Away team, what the hell are you guys doing down there?”
“Digging holes?” The reply is almost annoyed. “We're drilling through the ice to put the bolts in.”
“Did you guys do something to the asteroid? It’s heating up! The hell's going on down there?”
A flurry of chairs and movement. Ceyla and Suzel abandon their stations, peering over your shoulders to glance at the monitor. The look of utter confusion on their faces mirrors yours.
“Break, break!” Convoy-Lead interrupts. “Away team, confirm what the Albatross-”
Everything happens at once.
Seismic sensors shriek an alarm. “The asteroid just moved!”
The thermal bloom comes in gradual, faster pulses. “I…I can see something! The surface is clearing up…”
“…the hell…is that coral?”
(cont.)
