| Genesis 2, p. 5 |
| “Coming from where?” Mansel asked before Vaughn could. “It’s coming from the Agoria system, sir,” she responded after a few seconds. “Are there any ships closer to the source than we are?” Mansel asked, trying to keep his excitement from showing too much, unlike his counterpart beside him, who was gripping his chair so hard his knuckles were white. “No sir,” said Lieutenant Broadaway. “We’re the closest ship in range.” “Distance?” “Nine light years away, sir.” Mansel looked at Vaughn. “Well, be careful what you wish for.” Vaughn nodded. “It seems like we got it.” Mansel nodded. “Input coordinates.” After Broadaway had input the new coordinates, he signified that the ship was ready. “Go,” said Mansel. The Explorer banked about on its new heading, and shot off at translight speed towards its first adventure, the ship seemingly as eager as the crew was to unleash its might and test its limits. *** Agoria System 09:05 Standard Earth Time (SET) 2185 Soon, the Explorer came out of translight to find the wrecked debris of a former UNSF escort ship floating in front of them. “Let’s go to yellow alert,” said Commander Vaughn. “Just to be sure.” The lighting of the bridge turned from white to a canary yellow as the ship’s defense systems came on and the offensive systems stayed powered down. Mansel dimly wondered who picked this annoying color of yellow. “Scan the wreckage, Ensign Talaj,” said Mansel, now standing behind his chair. He turned to face his Science officer. “Let me know if you pick up anything unusual.” “Aye, Captain.” “What do you think caused this?” Mansel asked his Executive Officer. Vaughn gave an easy shrug. “Who knows? This could signify some sort of terrorist activity in this sector.” “Let’s hope not,” said Mansel. The bridge crew continued to look out the main viewscreen. “Suppose they were looking for something,” Mansel muttered more to himself than to his crew. “Or someone,” Commander Vaughn added. “This was no random act of violence,” Mansel decided at last. “They were after something.” “What makes you think that?” Lieutenant Hardy asked. Mansel shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling I have. I can’t explain it. Anything yet, Talaj?” “This ship was the U.S.S. Carolina,” she reported. “Escort ship, the first of its class.” “Pull up the crew compliment of the Carolina,” said Commander Vaughn. “We might be able to find something there.” He and Mansel left their seats to crowd behind Talaj and her small console. They looked while the Science officer slowly scrolled down the list. “They really need to make these consoles bigger,” muttered Vaughn as he squinted his eyes to catch the names as they flew down the screen. “I don’t see anything here,” he said finally after a minute of scrolling. “Nobody important. Just the crew.” “Can you pull up a guest list, Lieutenant?” Mansel asked, not so willing to give up on Vaughn’s hunch. “A guest list?” Talaj asked. “I should be able to, assuming there are any guests on board.” She started to punch the proper keys to pull up the list. Mansel and Vaughn leaned back, giving her room to work. They exchanged glances with each other. Vaughn’s expression was one of both confusion and excitement. Mansel’s expression mirrored Vaughn’s with a hint of worry mixed in. “Here is the guest list,” said Lieutenant Talaj as the much smaller list of names appeared on the screen. Bending down over her again, Mansel peered at the screen. “Start scrolling.” It seemed as if these names were not going to produce anything until the very end. There was a name highlighted in bold red letters: Chadwick Wilson, Ambassador, UNSF. Vaughn, Mansel, and Talaj all looked at each other. “You think they wanted the Ambassador?” Vaughn asked before Mansel could ask him the same question. |
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