Shuttle Aldrin, Cape Canaveral, Florida.

07:59 Hours, Day 172 of Training.

“Final sequence initiated,” the shuttle pilot announced. “T-Minus 30 Seconds.”

Launch Control in Florida continued counting down the time before the shuttle would lift. Stephen sat back and waited for the inevitable lift-off, his thoughts centering on the mission that would begin tomorrow.

“T Minus Ten seconds,” the Launch Controller continued counting down. “Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Ignition Sequence Started, One, Ignition.”

“The clock is running,” the pilot called over the thrum of the engines. “We have good ignition.”

“Launch clamps released,” the Flight Controller announced. “We have lift-off!”

The pressure of lift off was heavy on Stephen’s chest, but beyond that discomfort, this flight was exhilarating, and reminded him of the previous two flights he had taken part in, as pilot. This time, he was a passenger, and his mission would only just begin when the Aldrin returned to Earth. He reviewed the procedure he was taught for launch as the shuttle climbed out of Earth’s atmosphere.

“Go for LRB Sep,” The shuttle commander ordered the pilot.

“LRB Sep in three, two, one, LRB Sep.”

Stephen could imagine the Liquid propellants detaching from the shuttle, flying past for a few hundred feet, and then breaking off as their path altered where they would fall to Earth and parachute down for recovery. The shuttle continued on course for Earth orbit, firing its main Engines until the fuel tank was ejected and the shuttle left the Atmosphere and was in space.

“We’ve attained orbit, setting course for rendezvous with Locksley Platform. ETA Two Hours, Fifteen Minutes,” the shuttle Commander announced.

“Good work Aldrin, we’re handing you over to Houston now.”

Locksley Platform, in geostationary orbit of Earth.

06:30 Hours,Day 173 of Training.

Mission Day 01, first Year.

Stephen had just woken up, having been alerted by the station alarms of his tasks for the day. He was in the canteen with a freshly-ordered breakfast, when he was joined by John and Adam.

“Hey man,” John exclaimed. “You look like I feel!”

“Don’t, John,” Stephen said groggily. “I’m tryin’ to stay awake as it is!”

“Don’t worry, Stevie. A good meal should have you up and running by the time we get on board our ship.”

Our ship, Stephen thought. John knew, as well as Stephen, that the Tau Ceti was going to be home to them for a long time.

“Big day, today,” Adam commented, smiling. “Can’t wait!”

It was funny how some people could always be counted on for enthusiasm, even at this ridiculous hour, Stephen thought. “Terrific,” he said.

“He’ll wake up soon,” John replied. Adam simply nodded, grinning. “So where’s our favourite soldier?”

This time Adam groaned. “Lieutenant Davidson is already on board. He’s probably been rigging stuff on the Tau Ceti, ready for launch in a few hours,” he waved in the general direction of their ship, moored off of the main docking clamps. “Fussy bastard!”

“Hey man, watch it!”

John’s low voiced warning came just in time, for a large build man came storming across to them, a grim expression on his heavy-featured face. He was dressed in a green military styled ship-suit, and was carrying a huge back-pack on his back and a large sack over his shoulder.

“You, over there,” a parade-ground voice issued. Stephen followed the others’ example, and ignored him. “I SAID YOU THERE!”

“Yes?” John asked, not turning to face the soldier.

“What do you mean yes?” The soldier was getting edgy. “That’s ‘YES SIR’! Got it?”

“Got it,” John replied.

“‘I understand SIR!’” Davidson replied coarsely. “Where are your bags?”

The question caught both John and Stephen by surprise. “My bags?” John asked, turning to face the Lieutenant.

“‘My bags, SIR?’ and I asked you WHERE they WERE!”

“They’re on the Ceti-”

“‘They’re already aboard the Tau Ceti, thank you SIR!’ and I did not give you authorization to do so-”

“LIEUTENANT!”

Everyone turned to see Marlon walk into the room.

“Huh?” Davidson gawked. “What?”

“I am a Captain, Lieutenant,” Marlon replied mildly. “Address me correctly.”

“Sir?” Davidson responded automatically, snapping to attention.

Marlon turned to the others. “What happened here?”

“Yes sir,” Adam began when Marlon interrupted.

“There’s no need to address me as ‘sir’, none of you are military, rank doesn’t apply.”

“He’s still the boss though,” John grinned.

Davidson’s face looked like a storm was brewing.

“Okay,” Adam began. “Lieutenant Davidson wanted to know why none of us had our luggage with us.”

Marlon looked at the Lieutenant, carrying his own luggage. “Why do you have yours with you?”

“What?” Davidson looked puzzled.

“Need I remind you, Lieutenant, that I outrank you?”

“No sir, you don’t” Davidson grumbled. “I am carrying my luggage for security reasons.”

Marlon was incredulous. Stephen nearly laughed. “Security reasons?” Marlon asked the Lieutenant. “I can assure you that your luggage is much safer aboard the Tau Ceti than it is on this station-”

“It is safer with me, sir,” Davidson was belligerent.

“Not if someone falls over it, it isn’t,” Marlon replied coolly.

“It is if I’m-”

“Lieutenant, regardless if you are carrying it, it constitutes a hazard. Even you have to realize there is limited space on board a space station?!”

“What?!”

“What if you knock someone over when you turn to face another direction?”

“It’s their fault for getting in my way-”

“Lieutenant, these people are commissioned civilians on board the station. They do not have to say how high when you say jump! Now get your damned luggage to the habitat storage on the double!”

“Sir?”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant,” Marlon replied in unequivocal tones. He waited until the Lieutenant carried out his order, and then couldn’t help but laugh. “What a stiff assed…”

“Brit?” John supplied. Stephen frowned a little, as this Lieutenant sounded nothing like any Brit he had ever heard.

Marlon also frowned. “C'mon John, you know better than that!" He then turned to the others in the area. "Anyway, he ain’t exactly laid back!”

“I can see that,” Adam commented. “Stiff assed board!”

Suddenly, an announcement blared throughout the canteen area. “Pilot Stephen Hayward, please report to the nearest communications terminal to receive a message.”

Stephen looked puzzled, and looked to the others.

“Well?” Marlon asked, puzzled that he was still there. “Go on, then!”

Stephen left the canteen to get his message.

Once he found a private room, not far from the canteen, he entered and locked the door, then activated the terminal by touching the screen. He had to get through a complicated series of menus and enter his identification information, but finally, the terminal told him he had one recorded message waiting…

From his parents.

He pressed the play-back option, and both of them appeared on the display.

“Hello, Stephen…” his father began. “We’ve recorded this message, because there are a few things we want to say to you before you go away, and we both know you have to leave soon. We’ll be busy when you get this, but…” Stephen swallowed, as his father had paused before speaking. “As you probably know already, what I told you about your mother and I… Is a damn lie!”

Stephen could see this was the case, since his mother was clinging to his father, burying her face into his chest.

His father continued. “We did that because we want you to go do what you’ve been dreaming of since you were at high school,” his father was speaking quickly now, as if Stephen could interrupt what he was saying. “Whatever you do, don’t try and get back down here, the staff on board the facility have been instructed not to let anyone leave.” Stephen thought that it was unfair to do so. “Go explore the universe, and when you come back, the world will hopefully be a better place for everyone.”

Stephen’s throat closed, and he felt as if he would choke.

His mother spoke then. “Remember that we love you always.”

Stephen knew that, but he was unable to talk.

“Goodbye son,” his father said in parting, and both of them touched their screen. Stephen, despite the fact that he knew this was a recording, did the same…

And then it went blank.

That was the last message he was likely to ever receive from them.

His mind went blank. He couldn’t think or do much of anything.

He just stood there, staring at the blank screen.

07:56 Hours.

There was a knock on the door.

Stephen still felt raw, even though some amount of time must have passed.

“Stephen?” Helen was outside.

“Yes?” He asked, trying to imbue his voice with enthusiasm.

The door opened slowly, and Helen appeared. “What’s wrong?”

Stephen shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Why should there be?”

“Stephen-”

The door opened and John walked in. As usual, he had no regard for privacy and just walked in. “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked bluntly.

“I told you guys, I’m okay,” Stephen replied, bordering on exasperation. “What time is it?”

“Nearly eight,” John replied quickly, and Helen gave him an inscrutable look. Stephen was on his feet.

“I’ve been in here for over an hour and a half?”

“Stephen, wait!”

But Stephen was already out of the room and was moving quickly through the canteen toward the docking ring where the Tau Ceti would be waiting. There’d be time enough, once he was aboard the ship, for personal concerns, or maybe there wouldn’t be, but there sure as hell wasn’t time for it now and here-

Such reflections disintegrated within moments, as he came across a view port, because clearly visible was the ship herself, the Tau Ceti, moored to the station. The vessel was of the haphazard design that’s never intended to enter a planetary atmosphere, but she seemed to be constructed solidly, which would be necessary for the stresses of the voyage to the Tau Ceti system. The vessel was also very big – at least a hundred metres from stem to stern - and the circular disc-shaped portion of the ship must have been at least fifty metres in diameter. The hull was highly reflective, and Stephen could see the Earth in the panels of the habitat disc.

“She’s somethin’, ain’t she?” John exclaimed as he caught up with Stephen.

Stephen nodded, which was about all he could manage. His mouth was still open.

“Come on, pick your jaw up off the floor,” John said jocularly. “We’re goin’ to her, now!”

Boarding the ship was a complicated process in terms of the procedure the crew had to go through. First of all, the transferral to a no-gravity environment to get to the connecting air-locks, then the de-contamination cycle that every crew member had to observe, and finally, the transition through the vessel to the Command Module for departure. The whole procedure, including pre-launch checks, was scheduled to take four hours.

Indeed, by the time the crew members reached the inner air-lock after decontamination, two hours had already passed, but now they were boarding the Tau Ceti.

The inside of the vessel was no less impressive than the outside. Contrary to what was contained on board Aldrin, the Tau Ceti was designed in such a way that gravity and non-gravity environments were catered for. As the crew passed through the levels within the Habitat Module, Stephen noticed work areas for food preparation, the cryogenic suspension suite, crew quartering (which was reasonably spacious considering this was a space-craft), an entire deck devoted to medical research and treatment, another deck devoted to scientific research equipment, the mess hall, connected, oddly enough, to an open plan deck with a triple lane running area and some exercise equipment. A number of other levels housed storage (there was storage all over the ship since it had to be provisioned for at least a hundred years round trip), and then as the crew reached an upper access hatch, they had to take a change in direction along the vessel’s main axis, along a reasonably wide tunnel (they could at least pull themselves through without being cramped along the walls) to the access hatch entering the Command Module.

The Command Module itself was more like the interior of a space shuttle or a more technologically advanced version of the Apollo space-craft. Despite the added size of the ship overall, the Command Module was fairly cramped, and an emergency area was provided should the Command Module need to jettison from the rest of the ship (what good that would do was debatable since, unless the vessel was in the Sol system at the time, a rescue was absolutely impossible to execute). The seats were reasonably comfortable, although when strapped in, the occupant was bound to feel restricted. Control consoles that were touch-screen based, and trays were provided for the use of laptops (presumably so that each crew member could take their work away from the Command Module on their “off-shift” hours).

“Well, let’s get strapped in, fellas,” Marlon said by way of announcing their arrival on the Bridge. “Pre-flight should be started right about now.”

Stephen hauled himself to his seat and strapped himself in. Then he touched the navigation panel to activate it, and the attached system went through a brief start-up process. It wasn’t long before the system displayed grid references relative to the station and a three-dimensional representation of the local space.

Stephen was glad that technology allowed such detail nowadays, whereas even twenty years ago, everything was represented numerically and the pilot would be responsible for decoding everything. Besides, with his training, these controls were familiar to him.

He began his pre-flight checks.

Fallout Shelter, Phoenix, Arizona.

11:00 Hours, September 23rd.

“Terrific,” Robert commented sourly as he lifted a junked control panel off of a communications console that was the primary route for all inter-shelter communications and also the link to the outside world after the EMP that was likely with a nuclear explosion. “Just our luck.”

Twice in the space of two days definitely was not coincidence. There was almost certainly a saboteur within their midst, so Robert had earlier contacted his second in command to take over maintenance operations personally.

His second in command entered the control room where he was stood. “Good lord, this is bad,” he said in understatement.

“Damned electrical surge. Didn’t anyone think to check the stability of those surge protectors?” Robert asked coldly.

“I asked that same question myself. The engineering team assured me they have ordered replacements and are surge-testing them now,” was the reply, while Robert thought to himself it was a bit like locking the barn door after the horse had gone. “I can assure you as well, that I won’t be letting any of them off for such a flagrant lack of responsibility and due care and attention.”

Robert simply nodded. “Meanwhile, where am I gonna get a replacement for this god-forsaken comms station?” Thankfully, Robert thought, this was the only station that had been damaged in the thunderstorm that occurred. It was ironic that a storm occurred at all – Arizona was an arid dry place and thunderstorm activity was very rare these days.

“I also took care of that. A replacement console is due in today, and for now I’ve re-routed communications to a standard console on the far wall over there.”

Robert was relieved that open communications could at least be maintained. “Let’s go find out what else is happening,” he suggested, keying in a classified channel that only he was allowed access to.

For a time, everything remained quiet. There were no messages coming through.

“Looks like everything’s quiet,” Robert replied. “What’s the situation with stores?”

“Everything’s being stocked now sir,” was the reply. “Estimates come in for shelter capacity at twenty-five thousand civilians, not including officer and military capacity.” Twenty-five thousand from the general population was not good numbers, considering the population levels in Phoenix alone. Robert felt almost defeated by this news. “Sir, that is better than none,” his second suggested gently.

Normally, such talk toward a senior officer was not encouraged even when permission to speak freely was granted. Robert was a good friend to his second so some licence was acceptable. “Yeah, doesn’t really make me feel better, but I appreciate your trying. Carry on.”

The officer left. Robert grabbed a phone and dialed an outside line. “Maria, can you come down to the control room please?”

Command Module, ISS Tau Ceti.

11:44 Hours (00:00 Ship time), Mission Day 01 Year 01.

“Pre-flight checks complete,” Marlon announced through his head-set to Houston Control, as he finished tapping figures into his console.

“Confirmed here, Tau Ceti, stand by,” was the reply. No doubt Mission Control’s specially developed orbital launch teams were going through their “go no go for launch” procedure. “Go for launch, Tau Ceti.”

“Acknowledged, Houston,” Marlon replied. “Pilot, go for launch.”

“Setting the clock,” Stephen replied, keying in a counter time of three minutes, to allow for any errors. “Break-away firing in three minutes.”

“Diagnostics?”

“Power transfer diagnostics complete. No errors,” Adam replied. “Any time from now we can run under our own power.”

“Good. Communications?”

“All channels clear,” Caitlin replied. “No transmission errors.”

“Medical?”

“Medlab locked down. Bio-med systems recording,” Helen replied. “Everyone’s just a little excited but everything’s otherwise fine.”

“Security?”

“Nothing to report, sir,” Davidson replied punctiliously.

“T-Minus two minutes,” Stephen replied. “Propellant systems are now warming up to operational temperatures.”

“Diagnostics complete on seal fracturing systems,” Adam announced. “Safe breakaway is ninety-nine point eight percent likely.”

“Life support?” Marlon asked.

“Full capacity,” Adam replied. “We’re still running on a feed from the station.”

“Very well, sever all links to the station and initialise our own systems.”

“T-Minus One Minute,” Stephen said after a moment. “Engine capacity?”

“Ready for firing,” Stephen replied. “Ignition systems standing by.”

“Tau Ceti, this is Mission Control, You are go for break-off.”

“Go for break-off,” Marlon ordered.

“Breaking seal,” Adam replied. “Air-lock retracted. Armor plating in place.”

“T-Minus twenty seconds,” Stephen announced. “Ignition sequence start.”

“Diagnostics complete,” Adam announced. “Green on all life support and environmental systems.”

“T-Minus ten,” Stephen announced. “Opening thrust ports. Channelling propellant flow. Seven, six, five, ignition, three, two one, break-away.”

Everyone felt the gentle kick as all port-side boosters fired, pushing the ship away from the station. The vessel was clear of the station after a few minutes. “Ready for initial escape burn.”

“Very well, go for main burn at any time,” Marlon replied.

Stephen had already set up the forward boosters to fire. “Firing now,” he replied, pushing the appropriate control. The ship surged forward, causing enough force to keep everyone in their seats, but not enough to cause anyone to pass out. “Main burn cut-off in two minutes.”

During the next twelve hours, the crew would complete their escape burn, re-align their ship, and strap themselves into their hibernation couches for their next burn. Their vessel would fire their Ion propellant to push them on course for Tau Ceti shortly afterwards.

Fallout Shelter, Phoenix, Arizona.

“Sir, we just got an Emergency Message,” the communication rating told Robert as he entered the control room for the second time that day.

“Let me have it,” Robert replied. Already he expected the worst.

“The Pentagon has transmitted a launch warning originating from multiple sources,” the rating replied, handing the authorisation codes to the Captain, along with the decoded message. “The closest is from an undetected carrier in the Atlantic.”

Robert had already been briefed on the presence of a commandeered Russian carrier, known simply as the Lenin, under the control of the Iranian Militia, off the coast of France. The carrier had been harassing their naval shipping lines, but it was not detected until very recently.

Robert dutifully checked the authorisation codes on the tabs handed to him with the electronic seal attached to the message, and the code written on the note itself.

The message was genuine.

“Sound the alarms, general quarters,” Robert turned toward another rating. “We’ve got probably twenty minutes. I want everyone moving immediately,” he then turned to another rating as that one left. “All personnel are to report here immediately.”

He then left for the surface to help with the evacuation. When he got to the surface, there were people crowding to get to the shelter, far more than the twenty-five thousand allocated spaces in the shelter. Some of them would have to be turned away, and Robert would have joined them, he felt so terrible about such loss of life. Maria suddenly appeared by his side, and he knew that she wouldn’t allow him to take such action against himself.

Suddenly, the alarms stopped.

“Come,” she told him. “We’re out of time!”

They ran back to the shelter doors, and began the closure process as several marines began to fire into the crowds to disperse them. In some cases, this deterrent was insufficient and several people had to be shot to immobilise them. At that, the doors had only just been sealed as the first nuclear device hit the ground.

Robert, on his way to the control room, was rocked almost off balance as the ground shook.

It had started.

They ran as fast as they could despite the continuing ground tremors that threatened to shake them off balance. Their staff would need them, his officers would need them, the people of the bunker would need them…

Robert was glad to have Maria.