Slipspace

Preflight inspection: Complete

Hatch: Closed and Sealed

Pilot Harness: Engaged

Auxiliary Power: Turned to ON

Reaching for the Master Avionics switch, I caught myself nearly pushing at the wrong button. I may have designed the new cockpit as well as its panel layout, and that may have meant it would be easy to get used to it — but it didn’t let me skip that process. Well, I had slight complaints about the seat still being awfully stiff, but that wasn’t anything time and use wouldn’t fix. Everything else around me was exactly how I’d pictured it, with that new ship smell the Oxide never got to have.

As soon as my startup procedures were complete, I reached up to the reactor control panel above my head and gave the start command. With a whisper-quiet hum I could feel more than hear, tritium fuel was released into the intermix chamber, only to meet the anti-deuterium also being pumped in. The resulting annihilation saw that matter destructively converted to pure energy at a rate equal to the mass multiplied by the speed of light squared: relativity demonstrated in its purest form. Once I was confident that everything was running smoothly, I brought comms online.

“ICV Carbide to Illume local control, requesting departure from Erickson Hangar Oh-five-Bravo for local maneuvers and transfer to Erickson Cargo Vessel Bifrost. I have environmental information Zulu.” My voice was firm and clear over the channel, something I’d trained myself to do ever since I’d started flying. Unlike before, though, I actually felt the confidence I’d always projected on comms. I knew who – and what – I was. I knew who my family and friends were. I’d never imagined what it would really take to get to this point, but gotten to it I had.

After a moment’s pause, the cabin speakers emitted the voice of one of the station traffic controllers. “Control to Carbide, take-off is approved, third in queue for the slot. After exiting dock, Visual Flight Reference to Habitat ring two, dock Echo-One-Six.”

“Copy that, Control. Approved takeoff to the slot, third in line. VFR after exit to destination: Hab two, Echo-one-six; ICV Carbide.”

“Read-back correct. Fly safe out there.”

With a faint rumble of machinery, the bay door over top my hanger rolled open and the blast pad rose, bringing myself and the Carbide out of the hangar and up to the flight deck. The interior of the cavernous space dock was alight with activity. The Erickson docks were especially busy, as the final cargo was transferred to our ship before departure. Preparations had taken weeks, but were finally coming to an end. Illume Station and the Centaurus star system would soon be far behind us as my girlfriend and I, along with the rest of the Bifrost crew, began our long journey out to the Fringe.

Being honest with myself required admitting that I had a lot of complicated feelings about it. It had been two months, almost to the day, since Echo and I had first laid eyes on the vessels we’d come to call our own. In that time, I’d come to understand why so many people were content to spend their lives in one place, if not to share that contentedness. Illume station was a place of beauty; a statement true for both its construction and its people. At the very least, I would miss the home-cooked meals from Rachael. And yet, even with all of its amenities, neither the station, its beauty, nor those home-cooked meals, could take the stars from my eyes, from my dreams. There were new worlds to see, new people to meet, new experiences to have, and so many of them could never be encountered while staying in a single place.

Gently, I applied vertical thrusters to lift off the pad and move towards the other ships lined up for exit. Immediately after exiting the station, I banked hard to starboard. Under visual flight rules, I was essentially free to maneuver as needed to get where I was going. So, with a grin on my face, I hugged close in to the station, clear of other ships but dodging between bits of station superstructure. Another pilot on a larger vessel couldn’t have followed me, but I wasn’t flying just any starship, and I wasn’t just any pilot. Soon enough, the sensor and communications arrays gave way to open space and my first proper view of the completed Bifrost, still surrounded by support ships doing final preparations for the long journey ahead.

Josè had been a man of his word when he introduced us to the new Erickson fleet ship, along with the masterpiece that was the Carbide (okay, maybe I was a bit biased, could you blame me?). Eleven days later, we’d departed with the completed vessels, returning directly to Illume to prepare. With more than a month in cruise — and who-knows-how-long on the job — ahead of us, Erickson Enterprises was making very sure that we were well-prepared.

Once more I stroked a few soft keys on the communications panel, then thumbed the transmit button. This time, my voice carried a smile with it. “Carbide to Bifrost,

heard you had a spot waiting just for me! Mind opening the door? I come bearing gifts!”

“Well g‘mornin’ to you too, Matson. Do those gifts include coffee? I... could really use some.” Casey’s voice sounded tired, no surprise considering the amount of work we’d all been putting into getting ready for the job at hand. As the ship’s first officer, the enby pilot had been kept running with manifests and inspections between emergency drills and their own sleep cycle.

Ever since we’d seen the Bifrost to port, the entire assigned crew had been busy getting to know each other - and their ship - while preparing it for launch. Most of the crew were old hands from other Erickson ships, but there were also a few greenhorns, junior members joining up with their first ship. Regardless of where they came from or how much – or how little – experience they had, everyone was learning the procedures for new systems and new emergency drills. To the senior staff’s relief, everyone seemed to be getting along well, and every department showed solid preparedness levels.

After I’d adjusted thrusters to avoid getting too close to a civilian transport, I answered the person who was technically above me both in hierarchy and in relation to my own orientation, if only for the moment. “Unfortunately coffee is not among my cargo. I mean, I’ve got a boatload of kisses and affection, which I’m told can be quite energizing, but those aren’t for you.”

Though I couldn’t see their face, I could almost hear Casey’s eyes rolling in response. “Whatever, y’love-drunk idjit. Starboard bay’s ready for your ship, though the handlers are busy tying down the last of the emitters in the main hold. They’ll probably take some time to get to ya. I’ll have Balen check you in, but that’s about all I can promise.”

I’d not seen the day’s duty roster, but it didn’t surprise me to hear about the delay. Farris Integrated’s last delivery had arrived a day late, which drove our schedule out of whack as well. That we were still very nearly on-schedule for departure was a testament to the skill and determination of the crew. As with so many things, when problems arose, the Ericksons were ready to make things happen anyways.

“No worries, Case. This is my last run, so it’s no big deal to me if things sit a day or two.”

“Alright,” they responded, “go ahead and get parked. I’m sure the captain is eagerly awaiting that shipment.” Casey paused for dramatic effect and then let out a laugh. “See you in a few minutes, then?”

Even the responsibilities of their new job couldn’t tame the immutable goof that was the lead helmsman and it was all I could do to just roll my eyes with a smile on my face. “Yeah, one last bag to drop off in my cabin, then I’ll be on the bridge before launch.” After teasingly warning me not to scratch the paint, Casey cut the channel and left me in relative silence once more.

As much out of my own sense of caution as in deference to Casey’s warning, I did, in fact, take my time with the landing. It wasn’t the first time I’d made this landing: not only had I practiced it dozens of times in the simulator, the Carbide and I had actively participated in transporting cargo and supplies aboard as we prepared. As large as the flight bays of the Bifrost were, it wasn’t a terribly difficult landing, however I didn’t want to get into bad habits with two brand-new ships involved. Ever-so-gently, I set the landing struts down on the deck inside the Erickson starship and watched as a set of tracks shifted my vessel from the active landing zone to the neighboring hangar area.

Shutdown procedures went just as smoothly as I could hope, and it was only a few minutes before I cracked the hatch to exit. A perk of the Bifrost’s design origins as a carrier, automated magnetic latches meant I didn’t need to do anything to tie Carbide down. Balen, the cargo master, jogged into the bay within seconds of my disembarking. He was an interesting sort: it wasn’t often Balen was seen outside his quarters or office as the only noteworthy detail about him socially was his complete absence from socializing; however, he had a real head for organization: nothing, not in the cargo holds, nor in his office—nor even, I imagined, his room – was out of place. When I asked how he’d gotten so good at stacking cargo, he had rather enigmatically answered that he “played a lot of Tetris as a kid”. I couldn’t understand his eldritch thoughts, but I respected the strange man. I left the bay after taking care of the cargo paperwork with Balen. He and his deckhands would offload my cargo and store it according to the cargomaster’s grand design.

“Hey, Vox,” I said to the air while walking up to the central corridor, “settled in for the trip?”

My oldest friend responded through ship-board speakers. “I am indeed, Miss Adresta.” Vox was on-the-clock, so to speak, so I wasn’t surprised by the flat tone she replied with. “Integration into the Bifrost’s computer completed with no errors noted. Subspace communications with my central core are holding steady.”

After finding out about her pseudo-parentage, I told Vox that she didn’t have to come with us if she wanted to get to know Cody — or for any other reason, for that matter. I really didn’t want to lose my friend, but her freedom was more important to me. To my relief, Vox wasn’t hearing any part of it. Her chosen place was by my side, even if that meant playing AI for the Bifrost. Echo was understandably thrilled by that. Having an AIA aboard certainly helped simplify many mundane tasks, such as monitoring systems.

Nodding as I did my mental best to send some warm feelings to the inorganic sentience, I replied “Well, let me know if you need anything, Vox. I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m your friend too, you know.”

“In the unexpected event that I need another’s expertise, you will be the first to know.” Her spoken words carried a hint of the cheek I’d come to love from Vox, but the message she sent to my augs thanked me for caring, and did so in a way that could not have been spoken aloud. I smiled and continued through the ship.

After a quick pitstop in the captain’s quarters to set down my toiletry bag and change into my uniform jumpsuit, I slid down a nearby ladder and stepped onto the bridge. With final preparations for departure well underway, it was a busy place. Many of the crew present probably didn’t need

 to be, but the start of their ship’s maiden voyage was an auspicious event in which people naturally wanted to participate. There was plenty of work going on as well, to be fair, but not all of it really needed to happen on the bridge. As I was one of those not-entirely-required people, though, I wasn’t planning to bring it up.

Coming up from behind her, I looped an arm over Echo’s shoulder while coming to a stop beside her. Callisto Erickson, clad in black pants and leather captain’s jacket, was a sight to behold despite her blatant fatigue. In front of her was a holographic star chart, currently lit with what I assumed to be the latest iteration of our flight plan.

“Hey, you,” she said after glancing back to catch my eyes with a smile. Unable to help myself, I lightly kissed her cheek, leaving the gentle glow of a soft blush behind. “Easy with the PDA in front of the crew Addy, I don’t want to lose their respect before we’ve even left.” Despite the mild warning, Echo’s face made it easy to see that there was no steel in it.

I laughed, leaning onto the back of the captain’s chair. “Yeah, I don’t think that works for your dad, either. Don’t worry though, I’m pretty sure the crew won’t mind. Erickson Enterprises seems to have good taste in employees, myself excluded of course.”

One of my girlfriend’s eyebrows rose dangerously. “What did I say about self-deprecating comments, Adresta?”

Giggling, I responded. “And what makes you think my comment was self-deprecating? I’m only an exception because y’all had incredible taste in hiring me!”

Echo’s eyes swung upward as she silently begged the ceiling for something, probably patience, before letting out a tired chuckle. “Adresta, you really need to stop taking cues from Casey.” She picked up her thermos and took a long gulp of what was likely some heavily-caffeinated beverage. “Everything set on your side, oh Head of Auxiliary Operations?”

Head of Auxiliary Operations was my official designation aboard the Bifrost. With that title, I was in charge not only of my own ship, but also any and all extravehicular activity – up to and including all operations involving auxiliary vessels once we reached the gate construction site. Specialized gate engineers would be running that show, but I’d be the one managing all of the pilots and ships, the engineers’ metaphorical stagehands. Of course, there was little to do in that regard for the moment, but it would come soon enough.

“Well,” I told her, “I finally got word that the hiring process for on-site workers has started. The union rep, Kleon I think it was, says we ought to have a full crew trained up and ready to go by the time we’re on-station. Other than that, Carbide is where she’s meant to be, and Balen has staff focused on making sure her last load of cargo is unloaded and properly stowed aboard.”

Echo sagged in her chair. Despite her enthusiasm for the role, I could tell that my girlfriend was feeling the strain of her new captaincy. At the end of the day everything that happened, everything that would happen, on this ship, from now on, was her responsibility — and I couldn’t imagine working under that pressure. However, the Erickson heiress had trained for this, and I had every confidence in her ability to achieve her goals and keep us all safe, no matter the pressure. Still, I didn’t like seeing her this stressed.

I rubbed at her shoulder some, taking care to not let my hand stray, if only for the sake of decency on the bridge. I was about to say something to break the silence that had settled over us when Echo quietly spoke, worry bleeding into her voice. “Do you really think we’re ready for this? First time as captain, and we are going straight to the void’s edge, right out to the Fringe. This isn’t just some delivery run, Addy.”

“Sure, but you aren’t just some kid, either,” I replied firmly. “And you are not alone. To hear you and your dad tell it, you’ve been preparing for this since the moment you could walk. The crew have been working hard, too. Not just any bunch of idiots could make up for lost time so quickly. I’m just glad I get to be here, catching the starlight coming off you.” Unable to express my feelings any better, I placed a chaste kiss atop Echo’s head, if only to ensure she could feel my love.

The nebulae in my girlfriend’s eyes looked up at me, infinite potential contained within such beauty. “That... that was really cheesy.” She said simply. Both of us laughed lightly as I told her that its being cheesy didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Another half-barked laugh later, Echo took a deep breath and seemed to center herself. “You’re right, though: we have been preparing for this.”

When Callisto stood a moment later she’d shaken the pallor stress had given her, and risen as the captain I knew she could be. “Alright you lot,” she commanded the crew, “it’s high time we get moving!” Without a specific job to do, I moved off to the side to be out of the way.

Observing from the side was an interesting task, for me. I’d never been good at just being an observer. Even going all the way back to childhood on MacNair Gateway, the dock chief had given me a job for the express purpose of keeping me out of trouble. Being on the sidelines was not a natural state of being for me. Working did wonders for my mental health, too. As long as I was working on something important, I wasn’t thinking about any of the other crap in my life. It wasn’t healthy, but I lived for the next problem, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It kept me on edge and made me a great worker because I was never shaken by minor obstacles. Nothing could get in the way of my goals, my quest for independence.

However, therapy and my recent life experiences had exposed how much that quest for independence had blinkered me. Observation was an important skill to have in life, but that unwavering focus on independence had blinded me to the hurt I'd inflicting on Jay by leaving just as it then made me oblivious to how dear a friend Vox had become. Because neither of those had a direct impact on my independence, I had remained ignorant of both truths.

But now, my eyes were open. I wasn’t alone, not like I had once thought. Independence wasn’t the sole paragon I had believed it to be. Family, friends, they were what made life worth living, and I felt more alive now than I ever had. Celeste had changed my body, people had given me new perspective, and between the two, now I could really live anew.

We’d given our goodbyes, taken on supplies, and now we were finally set to take to the endless skies. It was time to chase new horizons.

End Book 1.

A/N And there it is. The first book of Slipspace complete. What a thing it is! I never thought I'd be here, but here I am. Thank you to every single one of my friends, girlfriends, and patrons who have made this what it is today. Have no fear! Adresta and the gang will be back in book 2: To The Void's Edge!