Drifting Dark

"It's the dark generator," Cassie whispered, her hands resting on top of the railing.

Aqeel kept going, taking the rickety steel stairs down a level to the shuttle bay floor. He made his way over to the computer terminal attached to the giant metal cylinder. He left Cassie leaning over the metal bar, with her mouth hanging wide open.

But she couldn't help staring at it.

The thing was huge, nearly reaching the ceiling of the bay, and even wider than the room she'd be bunking in. It made the shuttle in the adjacent bay look small by comparison. As if it wasn't already imposing enough, the entire generator was glowing purple, giving the whole area a surreal atmosphere.

She hadn't been certain about what to expect, information on dark generators was highly classified, but it wasn't this. At the same time, she could hardly believe that she was finally here, about to get first hand experience with equipment that others could only dream of.

It was even newer than she'd hoped, definitely newer than anything else she'd seen on the ship so far. Plain steel panels covered most of the structure, hiding almost all of the internals. Plain except for the rivets along the edges and the air vents dotting the surface. Despite the internal temperature regulation system, this place probably got a little chilly when it was up and running.

Because dark generators didn't only consume Ellidium. They also consumed heat.

She didn't pretend to understand the physics of it all.

She just needed to know what kept it running, what might cause it to break down. Her eyes fell on the heavy-duty oval-shaped door, the maintenance access portal, with it's big red locking wheel. Like the thick metal exterior, it wasn't just there for aesthetics.

Earlier dark generators had been known for their tendency to implode.

Nowadays, that was a rare occurrence. Newer designs, with improved safety protocols, had resulted a huge drop in accidents. People still tended to feel uneasy around them anyways.

Partially because of the propaganda surrounding the restricted technology.

Both planetary governments argued that they were still too dangerous to be used on passenger vessels, but everyone knew that was just an excuse to keep the technology secret and under their control. It was one major advantage the planets held over the independent stations, their ability to develop new technology. The cloaks the rebel ships used were less effective and much less efficient. Not that the stations were concerned about efficiency, considering their fuel surplus since all trade had come to a halt.

The dark generators from Earth were supposed to be better, safer. She didn't buy that either.

Putting an inch of steel around the thing made everyone feel better, but that was it. There was no physical shielding that could protect you from an implosion. The real keystone was the automatic shutdown protocol, which could react much faster than any human, was way more reliable, and would turn the whole thing off before a runaway reaction could even begin.

That was what she'd bet her life on, not the shiny metal shell, a very planetborn design choice.

This was their style, hide all the dirt underneath a fancy exterior, no matter how impractical it was. Knowing them, any minor repair to this thing would probably require crawling around tiny tunnels while trying to interpret overly complicated schematics. Even something as simple as swapping out a busted valve probably had a hundred different, very detailed steps, making a job that should take ten minutes into an hours-long endeavor.

That was the problem with these high-precision, triple-redundancy systems.

Even though the generator itself seemed to be state-of-the-art, the installation looked anything but. Loose cables and pipes ran across the floor to disappear into the main body of the ship. Support beams had been welded between the shell and the walls of the bay, the extreme discoloration along the edges an obvious indication of a very rush job.

The supports were a reminder that this thing wasn't just large in volume, but also mass. Not that it would make much of a difference to a ship this large.

Just like the power consumption.

A generator this size wouldn't even draw a tenth of what the engines needed, a portion easily given up when the propulsion systems weren't running. The engineers wouldn't have even needed to upgrade the power systems when it was installed.

Probably why this ship had been chosen for such an upgrade in the first place, even if there had been barely enough space to put the thing in.

Her eyes darted over the monolith, scrutinizing it closely, as she slowly walked down the stairs. She carefully stepped over the heating pipes and avoided the old-fashioned space heaters scattered across the dark grey floor. She came to stand right in front of the access door.

She could reach out and touch it.

"It's not that impressive," Aqeel said suddenly.

Cassie craned her neck to look up at it. The cloak generator seemed even larger up close. "It's just... so much bigger than I thought it'd be."

Aqeel glanced up from the screen for an instant to throw her an odd look. "It's no bigger than a swimming pool, but upright."

Cassie nodded, as if that made sense to her.

"Only a tad bigger than the shuttle we had to throw out to stick it in," Aqeel went on. "It's putting the heating stations down on the other side of the ship, that's the strange bit."

Cassie was only half-listening. "The excess heat from the ship isn't enough?"

"Not with a crew this small," Aqeel answered, analyzing the screen in front of him. "Even after it cools down the ship, needs to be heated up a fraction to keep the temperature stable. One is solely a backup."

"Right," Cassie mumbled.

"Else it would freeze," Aqeel stated bluntly. "That would be very bad."

Cassie shook off the feeling that she was being patronized. "So what's the problem with the heating stations being down by the engine room?"

Aqeel waved vaguely towards the shuttle next door. "They would have easily fit up here."

"Then you wouldn't have any shuttles," Cassie pointed out.

Aqeel snorted. "We never got any use out of them anyways. Station to station transit only for the last decade."

"Isn't it still good to have?" Cassie asked naively. "You never know when you might need it."

"You can be in charge of keeping it in working order then," Aqeel retorted lowly, slightly annoyed.

"Sure," Cassie replied absentmindedly. She was still staring.

Aqeel noticed. "I thought this wasn't your first rodeo?"

"Uh..." Cassie purposefully tore her eyes away, making a mental note that staring at standard equipment was not a smart way to blend in. "This is my first ship with a dark generator," she admitted.

Aqeel nodded understandingly, taking a moment to look up from to screen to the huge piece of equipment in front of him. "Ah, well, it is a marvel of modern tech. Not a simple matter to hide in plain sight."

"It doesn't turn the ship invisible." Cassie spoke without thinking.

"Close enough." Aqeel's annoyed undertone was back. "It's not as if someone could target us visually."

Cassie nodded, then she pressed her lips together. "Can I ask a question?"

"You just did," Aqeel replied dryly, without looking away from his screen.

Cassie gave him an exasperated look. Clearly, being polite wasn't going to earn her any points with him. She sighed softly.

"Fine. Go ahead," Aqeel grumbled. "You don't have to ask beforehand."

Cassie opened her mouth. Then closed it again. She didn't want to ask a stupid question.

"It would be odd if you didn't have a boatload," Aqeel mumbled under his breath.

Cassie looked up at the generator, her brow furrowed. This had been bothering her since they'd walked in. It just didn't make any sense.

"Why is it..." Cassie said slowly, still feeling like this was an incredibly dumb question. "...purple?"

Aqeel burst out laughing. The rich, deep sound echoed through the entire shuttle bay. He leaned against the side of the metal shell, grinning widely.

Cassie regarded him with outright confusion. "Uh, did I... say something wrong?"

"No, it's a great question, just a funny surprise." Aqeel wiped the water from the corners of his eyes. "Those lights aren't for anything," he explained. "Brendan put them up. He thought they looked cool."

Cassie blinked, processing. Up close, she could see the tiny light strings wrapped around the midsection. Just like the ones in the mess hall, the quarters, the halls...

That actually explained a lot about this ship.

"It's Brendan's idea of modern decor," Aqeel added, still smiling. "It's not exotic radiation or warning lights, just our crazy first officer."

Cassie took a step back. "Wait, can it emit radiation?"

"No," Aqeel answered swiftly. "Technically, there's less radiation inside, since it absorbs everything."

"I thought it absorbed energy?" Cassie asked, her tone unsure.

"Almost all energy at the edge of the field," Aqeel corrected. "Enough that those bastards won't know we're there even when they could reach out and touch us." He rapped his knuckles against the metal casing. "Keeping this baby running is our most important job."

Cassie stood there, looking confused. "I thought life support was always the most important?"

Aqeel snorted. "Bah, not out here." He met her puzzled gaze. "If the oxygen scrubbers conk out, you can last hours while shallow breathing. If a rebel ship spots us, we're dead like that," he explained, snapping his fingers for added emphasis.

"Really?" Cassie still looked puzzled. "But if we fix it, then we'll be invisible again."

Aqeel shrugged dismissively. "Don't matter one bit. They'd be able to map our trajectory and find us later."

"We can't just... change course?" Cassie suggested uncertainly.

"Maybe if we were one of the those fancy little fighters they're sending out now." Aqeel waved his hand about in a sarcastic gesture. "But no, a cargo ship this size can't change course fast enough to make a difference. Too much mass."

"So we have to stay hidden," Cassie agreed quietly, putting it all together.

"And that's why this." Aqeel snapped his fingers and pointed upwards at the purple panels. "Is the most important thing on this boat."

Right then, the entire vessel groaned. The dark floor rumbled under their feet as sharp, metallic creaks reverberated through the air. In the background, there were several low, heavy-sounding thuds.

Cassie grabbed on to the handrail of the metal staircase, really to brace, her eyes scanning everywhere for damage. "What's that?"

As soon as the noises had begun, they vanished.

"Relax, we're just undocking," Aqeel said calmly, undisturbed. He, still standing in front of the computer, cycled quickly through several screens. "We're on our way now."

Cassie shot a suspiciously glance at the enormous shuttle bay doors before slowly releasing her iron grip on the steel bars. "So... that always happens when the ship starts up?"

"Hmmm... sometimes." Aqeel rubbed his beard, mixing more black into his white hair. "Shrey usually does a better job of bringing us out." He shrugged, then opened a nearby filing cabinet and started rifling through the contents. "Eh, I'll check the starters later. Not a big deal."

Cassie would have liked to believe him.

She went over to the other computer, the workstation connected to the ship, not the one connected to the dark generator. With only a few taps, she'd brought up the Saint Joan's status information.

Her stomach sunk with dread.

The screen was filled with orange.

Her eyes became laser focused on the pixels in front of her. She raced through the lines one by one, but her shoulders relaxed as she made her way down the screen. Each alert was one she'd seen before.

There were no new alarms. Just the usual ones.

She'd gotten used to having "normal" errors far too quickly, far too easily. Her status screens used to be green, sometimes with a touch of yellow, but mostly green. Not orange. But this was Aqeel's definition of "fine" for the Saint Joan, as crazy as that was.

But she felt like there was something off.

"So we're flying now..." Cassie shifted her weight from foot to foot. "But I don't feel anything?"

"Our acceleration is low. It can be tough to notice," Aqeel explained. "Even at max thrust, you couldn't feel much."

Cassie jumped up and down. "It's so smooth. It's great."

"That's my ship." Aqeel's voice was laced with pride. "As long as we take care of her, she'll take care of us."

Cassie sat down on the bottom step of the staircase as she watched Aqeel search through the drawers of the filing cabinet as he huffed and muttered. "So do we turn the cloak on now?"

"Not yet." Aqeel's answer was muffled, his head still stuck in the drawer. "It'll be almost a day before we reach the edge of the dark zone."

Cassie went back to staring at the dark generator.

"Found it." A moment later, Aqeel was handing her a heavy clipboard. "You'll need this."

"Paper?" Cassie uttered, unable to cover her surprise at being handed such a fossil unexpectedly.

"And a pen," Aqeel said with mock amazement as he put the writing utensil down on top.

Cassie grabbed it before it could roll off, trying to remember how to use it. It had been ages since she'd even touched one of these, and her handwriting was abysmal. She'd learned typing long before even picking up a pencil.

"Always stick with the tried and true." Aqeel tapped the top page once before he turned his attention to the door of the generator, using both hands to turn the wheel.

Cassie hid a scowl as she started flipping through the pages.

Newly printed. It was shocking to see such a waste of resources on something so simple. Water, wood, ink, all spent on something that could have just as easily been done on a tablet. Or the computer nearby.

They really did live in luxury over here.

Cassie kept flipping. The list went on and on. "This... is going to take a while."

Aqeel chuckled as he pulled the heavy steel door open. "I knew you were a smart cookie. Better get started."