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| SEASON 1: EPISODE 1: "THE THOR." |
The Thor had been resting at Rossinggton’s No.4 Dock for a couple of days, most of the crew had taken advantage of the liberty granted by Captain Jones and had disappeared into that thriving metropolis to drink, fornicate and/or visit any family or friends that resided in the Southern Mars Capital.
Captain Jones had remained aboard with Chief Marcus Enders, neither man had family in Rossington. The Chief had a couple of old friends living in the Ford District, but on the last liberty some weeks ago, he had played poker with them and lost nearly a month’s salary – so he decided to save what was left of his finances ( and pride) and remain on the Thor, it was free food and accommodation after all.
Captain Jones smiled and nodded as the Chief explained for the 4th time that morning, how his two old Rig mates had taken him to the cleaners. Both men were on the Bridge, looking out over the docks of Rossington South. There was an aging ‘Mammoth’ Class cargo in the next dock – she was still being unloaded; Jones could make out a couple of dock-hands in gaudy yellow suits astride her second trailer. He had guessed the cargo was grain, as the dock-hands were lowering two flexible pipes into matching orifices on the trailers top deck. There was a slight haze about the rig, Jones knew it was grain dust, but he smiled to himself – it looked like a very light rain shower.
Not that Captain Jones had ever seen a real rain shower, born in the city of Kiev on Mars some 16 years previously [Martian Years are equivalent to 1.8 Earth Years, so the Captain would be about 29 on Earth] to a mother who really didn’t want to be a mother and a father who moved North some two years after his birth - with a woman who worked in his laboratory – Jones did not have the best of starts, but with his Grandfathers love and help, he had turned that around. Jones had passed out of engineering University with First class honours and joined Mars military for a year. He moved from there to the Wang Corporation that ran rigs of every description, both North and South Mars.
Reaching the position of XO [Executive Officer] on the new ‘Titan’ class rig “The Richard Kellogg”, running heavy machine parts around the southern mining cities and towns, that’s where he obtained his red slip, or Rig Master’s Certificate. His first Captaincy followed quickly, another ‘Titan’ class rig; “The New Cydonia”, a big cargo rig that carried all types of cargo; from fruit and vegetables to housing modules.
He remembered the rig and her crew with great affection, he would probably still be her Captain, but the Weather Service made him an offer he really couldn’t refuse. A brand new, just off the launch slips ‘Titan’ class Weather Service Vessel; The Thor.
“The Thor” was a ‘Titan’ Class Rig, weighing some 200 tonnes, equipped with two huge Dyson rig engines and with a specification that made your mouth water. Standing nearly 12 metres high with full external armour and a double hull; The Thor was designed to withstand whatever weather Mars threw at her.
The Thor could haul two, 150 tonne trailers with ease over the harsh and unforgiving Martian surface, but the two trailers she normally hauled were specially built for her and the weather service.
One contained a fully operational weather station and workshop for the twelve crew members who serviced the vital weather stations scattered around Southern Mars – a task that was so necessary for the survival of humanity on the planet, that the military controlled the weather service.
All the weather service personnel were, in-fact, in military service.
The second trailer contained a full medical suite, high quality living modules, a ship’s mess and galley with a small cargo storage area. It also carried a couple of drones for observation and exploration. The Thor boasted two fully equipped survival rafts that could carry 16 persons between them and keep the crew safe and alive for up to 5 days. It also carried a small ‘Sand-Cat’ – a four person tractor that could travel very quickly over the Martian dust, she was highly manoeuvrable and basically, a great deal of fun to drive!
Her nickname was ‘Little Thor’ amongst the crew – there was never a shortage of volunteers to take her out for a spin.
So Captain Jones had returned to military service, he had completed his refresher training at the big military base outside of the Martian capitol at Fort Benjamin. It was some 7000k from Taylor, the capitol of Mars. Then he had made the very long journey south to Rossington, some of it by military flight, but most by military rigs. He had arrived in the Southern Mars capitol aboard “The General Patton”, that’s where he had met the Chief and found that this grizzled old warrior was to be Chief on his rig; The Thor.
The Chief was actually only 26 years old, which would make him in his late forties on Earth, but looked much older, if you only had two words to describe him to people they would be: Grizzly Bear. Yes, with his full beard and hairy arms, that would be an apt description – and with the same attitude as a bear!
But what he didn’t know about the engineering status of these ‘Titan’s’ you could chisel on the sole of your shoe and still have room for the Gettysburg Address. The Chief had two great loves in his life; Engines and flowers, followed closely by woman and poker. Then you could add illicit booze and the occasional cigar. The Chief was a real character, the crew seriously respected him and even admired him, you really didn’t want to cross him, the last fool to actually upset the Chief suddenly found he had volunteered for a three month duty on Weather Station 29(N) which is located in the middle of the Cydonia desert, some thousands of kilometres from any other human habitation.
The three weeks it took to reach the station wasn’t even included in the three month tour, nor was the return journey. He changed his opinion of the Chief from ‘bastard’ to ‘total bastard’ and a few other expletives were thrown in. It had not occurred to the fool that Dr. Alexander Enders, the Weather Service Director of Human Resources could be related and suffers the same bad attitudes as the Chief [his brother].
Apart from that, the Chief was good man to have on your side when the shit hits the fan.
The Chief liked just three people on the Thor, the Captain, his apprentice; Summer ‘Sunny’ Yelsin and the ship’s cook; Frankie ‘Fists’ Fingermann, who was rather a good chef. He did have one bad habit which kept getting him in-castrated at the Military Prison at Salt Flats, if he didn’t like what you said, he wouldn’t just disagree- Frankie would answer with his fists. But so far, since being assigned to the Thor, after completing another couple of months at Salt Flats, his behaviour was good – the crew believed it was because the Captain treated this small, feisty man with respect or it was because the Captain enjoyed his curries far too much.
Frankie’s favourite saying was ‘the only difference between me and Chief is I’.
The Chief’s engineering apprentice was young Summer Yelsin, nick-named ‘Sunny’ by the crew because of her happy disposition and cheerful personality. The crew referred to ‘Sunny’ as the Chief’s pet and he looked after her like a father. ‘Sunny’ would not be on this mission, her mother was re-marrying at their family home in Norfolk. ‘Sunny’ had been granted ten days leave- but it would take her six days just to travel, there and back, to the small farming township located some 2500k North of Rossington.
The other favourite of the Chief was the rig’s cat;”Dallas.” This mysterious creature prowled the rig with total confidence and freedom, he would turn up in the strangest places - to the delight of the crew and was also a favourite of the Chef who kept “Dallas” fed and watered.
Cats had been carried on the rigs for years, no-one was quite sure how the tradition started, but few crews would depart for sand duty without the rig's mascot [and lucky charm] aboard. The Thor's cat was a black & white one & half year old [a gift for the crew from Vice Admiral's Di-Luk's wife who bred them] and "Dallas" was quite spoilt by the crew.
The cat had its own 'survival suit' - made by the engineering crew, and he was shown on the official crew roster, whilst he didn't receive any pay for his 'duties', his vet bill's and food came out the rig's budget. The numerous toy's and treats he received came from the crew.
Dallas"s most loved place was the medical bay, he was often found asleep in the mortuary tray. This baffled the entire crew and was definitely a mystery aboard the Thor – because the tray had to be opened and closed with a lever!
The Captain had the Chief’s serious respect, he would say; ’I’ve been on these bloody rig’s for nearly fifteen years and he’s [the Captain] about the best I’ve served under – and that says it all.’
“We depart at 18.00 hours CST.” The Captain said simply and sipped his lukewarm coffee. He leaned back in his chair and peered through the bridge windows at the dockside. The old ‘Mammoth’ cargo was still being unloaded; he smiled at its name emblazoned upon the tractor unit’s side: “The Fruit Fairy”, with a colourful painting of a fly with a fairy outfit on.
"CST means Central Southern Time."
W.A.S.
“Aye, skipper.” The Chief lifted his PA and looked at the screen, “Don’t forget skipper we have a new MO and a replacement Ensign due today.” Jones nodded and tapped the screen of his PA; “Just been reading up on the pair, the MO seems pretty solid, but no sand time. It’s the Ensign that bothers me; the Thor will be her third rig in well under a year.”
The Chief rolled his eyes and laughed; “Maybe she gets sand-sick!” The Captain laughed quietly, ‘Sand-sickness’ was blamed for everything that crew members suffered – on or off the rigs. It covered bad hangovers, bad food and the need to spend a day in bed. What ‘sand-sickness’ actually was defied all medical explanations that the Captain had heard over the years. Maybe the new MO could cast more light on the subject. But the new Ensign will need a close eye, being in service just under a year and we’re number three – the omens were definitely not good.
The Captain ran his fingers over his cropped dark hair and stared at his reflection in the bridge screen, he was 16 years old [thats about 29 years old On Earth] 1.8 meters tall and weighed in at 88 kilos. He was in very good health because he was regular user of the rig's gym and generally took care of himself. From quite a young age, he found he was attractive to girls and women, probably because they considered him 'exotic'. His dear grandfather had laughed about that; "You'll thank your ancestors for those looks one day!"
Staring back at the Captain was a good looking mixed race male. Apparently the Captain's Earth ancestors had originated from the African continent, but now had white American and European blood mixed in. There were very few 'black' faces around Mars, everyone accepted that was due to the racial situation back on Earth during the early days of colonisation.
Not that any of that mattered now.
That’s all he needed, a mixed up Ensign who clearly wasn’t sure if she liked life on the sand. Jones always thought that it was odd, that the expression ‘sand’ was used to describe the Mars surface, when it was clearly was a mix of dust and dead soil. But apparently, according to legend, that in the early years, when Mars was still a colony of Earth, one of the founding crew members had coined the expression ‘doing sand time’ – and it had stuck.
Now, 323 years [Martian Years] after humanity had arrived on the Red Planet, there were vast cities, mining townships, enclosed farms and even two holiday resorts. Water was the key to the new life here. The three vast underground reservoirs, discovered some years after colonisation, allowed life to explode across the planet’s surface. It was estimated that some 1,370,000 souls currently inhabited the once dead planet and the population was still growing – though a lot slower now the immigration ships from Earth had stopped coming some 80 years ago.
The Captain stopped smiling when he thought of Earth, obviously he only knew her from the archives maintained by the Mars Government. But she had been quite beautiful, full of blue seas and vast expansive forests and millions of different life-forms; from the huge whales to little insects – the place was crawling with life. Not like Mars, definitely not like Mars.
The Captain shook thoughts about Earth from his mind; there was really no point thinking about ‘what if’s’ – the past was in the past, you couldn’t change it or forget it, just accept it.
2. NEW CREW.
The deck intercom buzzed and the Captain smiled at the two faces upon the small screen; ”Welcome aboard Peter and which bar did you drag Troy from?” Jones stabbed the release button which opened the forward external pressure door as the two faces laughed and disappeared from view. He glanced at the ship’s clock and saw it was 16.20 Hours CST. That was good; the crew had started to arrive back from liberty on time.
“When’s departure set for Captain?” The Cook’s voice made him spin in his chair and he replied’”18.00 hours cookie, what are we having?” The cook was of small statue, but quite stocky, with long dark hair tied with what appears to be string. He had extensive tattoo’s covering his exposed arms and upon the back of his hands. But his chef’s whites were immaculate, wiping his hands with a paper towel, he said simply;”Curry.”
The Captain gave him the thumbs up and told Frankie to have the main evening meal ready for 19.30 hours, "How's Dallas?" He added, the Cook smiled;"The last I saw of him, he was sleeping on the morgue tray in the medical bay, he scoffed a packet of fish beans and drank some cold coffee, He's happy enough." The Captain laughed; "That is one crazy cat!" The Chef nodded in agreement; "I'd swear skipper, that Dallas is getting bigger by the day." Then disappeared down the ladder behind him.
Lt. Peter Gravestone came bouncing onto the bridge, stopping briefly to salute and dropped onto a pilot’s seat in front of the ship’s dashboard, he glanced out the windows and pointed out the old ‘Mammoth’ cargos logo; “Why a fly in a fairy’s outfit?” He looked quite bemused by it. “Troy is changing into uniform and will man the deck for crew returns, everyone is expected to be here for 17.00 hours, but no word on the new people, I hope they caught the tram early, they’re going to be busy, because the Rossington Raiders are playing at home tonight, and it’s the National Hardball semi-final.” He added, checking his PA for the third time.
“Expecting something important?” The Captain gestured to the Lieutenants PA. Peter half-smiled, but his dark eyes betrayed his concern. “Waiting a call from Nikki, he’s gone on a three-day conference to Middleford, and he normally calls when he arrives at the hotel.” The Captain nodded; “How long you two been together now Pete?” Peter smiled broadly and with great affection in his voice said;” Nearly two years and our parents said it wouldn’t last six weeks!” The Captain nodded; “Yeah parents can get it wrong sometimes.” Jones hadn’t thought of his parents for some time now, his father Robert was now Principle Scientist at a Government Laboratory in Taylor – they hadn’t spoken in two years.
In a small case, in a drawer by his cabin bed was a photograph of the mother he really never knew.
A very pretty woman with long dark hair and a huge smile; her dark eyes had been inherited by Jones. Maggie Jones had left her small son with his grandparents and disappeared to Shackleton on the ice-shelf with a man who drove ‘Snow-Cats’ for a living, the Captain was just two years old – he had never even spoken to her. She didn’t attend his Grandfathers resurrection service.
"There were no real funerals anymore, all dead bodies were given a 'Ressurrection' service which basically means the corpse was liquified and used to help grow the crops that were vital for life on the planet. There were few religious objectors since nearly all religion had vanished - Mars was almost entirely secular."
W.A.S.
Jones understood from his father that Maggie now lived back up North, with a sewage farm engineer called Kelvin and she had two daughters, now in their teens. Jones didn’t even know what his half-sisters looked like – and frankly, he no longer cared.
But on his cabin’s desk was a lovely real wood, framed picture, of his Grandfather; Joshua.
Jones now understands the sacrifices that the old fella had made to keep the young Picasso at home. He really did miss him these days – especially the late night conversations when the pair would discuss anything and everything over a couple of cold beers and a hot curry. But he had passed over two years ago and Jones had never felt so alone. He remembered vividly the argument with his father at the resurrection ceremony at Rossington. They hadn’t spoken since.
“Well, I think our two new ladies have made it.” The Chief pointed to the dockside, where two Military officers were struggling with their luggage and short skirts, trying to keep both under control as they approached the deck ramp, where ‘Deckie’ Troy Humbleson asked for their Identity Cards and Posting orders – he also had fellow Deckie Leon Zamaski help with the baggage.
The Captain watched carefully on the deck monitor as the Chief opened the Bridge Deck door and the two girls climbed in. They both saluted and Jones shook their hands in greeting. The new MO [Medical Officer] was quite tall, with thick blond hair and green eyes. Lt. Eve Votech was considered pretty by most who met her and both the Captain and the Chief would agree with that. The 14 year old [25 year old if on Earth] had completed two years at Medical School [paid on a scholarship by the Military] and now was obliged to complete one year on active service, before returning to Medical school for a further year and qualification as a Military Doctor with the rank of Captain.
Beauty and brains in one neat package, the Chief commented later.
The Ensign was quite small, very slim with dark hair and eyes and clearly nervous, though the Captain was a little surprised at the firm handshake, she was nearly 10 years old [19 years old if on Earth] and had completed 29 Weeks ‘sand-time’ already – but on two other Military rigs. Ensign Lilly Blissford had been given a ‘plum’ posting on the MSV “The Admiral Valisky” , a massive flight carrier based at Fort Bejamin up North, this rig carried four ‘flyers’ and boasted a crew of nearly thirty. But the young Ensign had requested a move in less than nine weeks and found herself aboard MSV “The Louise Stewart”, a Military supply rig with nine crew and about a third of the size of “The Admiral Valisky”. She had lasted 20 weeks, and then had been transferred to WSV “The Thor” – again at her own request.
Not the best record in the Military for one so young.
Watching, as the girls departed the bridge for their assigned cabins, the Chief said simply;”That Ensign looks like a shy little girl who hasn’t a clue about anything.” He sighed and shook his head, then smiling added; “Well, if she’s going to make it in service, then The Thor is her best bet Skipper!”
Jones agreed with that deduction, but would she stay long enough to work that out for herself?
3. DEPARTURE.
Lt. Peter Gravestone thought there was something odd about the Ensign, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But his attention was drawn immediately to the communications desk – a call from Rossington Transit Control. He flicked the screen into life and smiling back at him was Sol Goldstein, one of the control officers; “Hi Pete, your slot is 18.00 hours through Gate 2 and try to avoid the dirty great cargo sitting out there, you really can’t miss it!” Sol laughed, and pointed to a flickering monitor by his side. It showed a ‘Goliath’ class cargo rig sitting some 1000 metres from the external pressure doors of Rossington’s Southern docks.
“The Summer Harvest” was an enormous cargo, capable of hauling three trailers and boasted a crew of seven. ‘Goliath’ class rigs were the first choice for the cruise rigs that had appeared during the last fifty years and there were several working both North and South Mars.
Such as “The Queen Eleanor” which was one of the ‘Super-Goliaths’. A massive three hundred tonne tractor unit which pulled three trailers of happy passengers, all paying a small fortune for the privilege. Every rig Captains dream to command. The ‘Queen’ was one of three sister rigs, the other two worked up North, “The Queen Victoria” and “The Queen Noor” plied their trade from Mar’s Capitol docks, whilst “The Queen Eleanor” worked from Rossington.
Peter had seen her once, when travelling back to “The Thor” from leave – an incredible sight moving over the dusty surface of Mars, “The Queen Eleanor” had just left the Southern Capitol and was heading out onto the sand for a two month ‘cruise’.
That’s when Peter remembered the Ensign, he had caught a lift on MSV “The Louise Stewart”, and she had been on board. Clearly, she had not remembered him.
But he remembered what was said about her.
He looked across the bridge at the Captain, who was giving departure instructions to the bridge crew, and Ensign Blissford caught his eye. She was on communications and she glanced at him and half smiled. Peter nodded in return and one thought dominated his mind; should he tell the Captain?
“Prepare for departure please!” The Captain announced, easing himself into his seat. He looked at the rig’s clock: 17.50 hours. “Run the numbers please people!” He added, checking the Navicom, the journey to WS3(S) was scheduled to take 127 hours or just over five days.
A couple of dock hands, in bright yellow suits, waved from the dockside. “All external couplings and both umbilical cords are free Captain.” Peter looked up from his screen and could now feel the power surging through “The Thor” as both her engines were now running. The Chief called from the engine room to say all was on standby.
The Captain studied the instruments on his desk panel; ”XO, what’s our hull integrity?”
Peter’s eyes swept his panel and without lifting his head, said simply; “Captain, we’re green across the board.”
Captain Jones nodded to himself, then looking around the bridge, he smiled and said; “Well, let’s get some sand pay!”
Slowly, the ‘Titan’ began to move forward, turning a little to match up with the two huge Internal pressure doors, above which was three large diameter coloured lights. Red was showing currently.
Creeping forward, Captain Jones waited for the yellow light to start flashing. That’s when Ensign Blissford said;” We have clearance from Rossington Transit Control Captain.” The Inner doors were now moving, opening slowly. The red light had extinguished and yellow was flashing. “The Thor” continued to creep forward under the Captain’s steady hand. “Thank you Lilly.” He called out.
Within a couple of minutes, the doors had opened enough for the final light to come on and “The Thor” was bathed in a strange green glow. She passed through the Inner Gates with ease and came to a stop before the External Pressure Doors of the Docks. Everyone watched the great Inner doors closing behind the Thor. A similar arrangement of lights above the outer gates was showing red.
Peter watched on his rear monitor as the Inner doors closed behind them and he could see on his instruments that the pressure chamber was being emptied, to balance with the harsh outside climate.
The yellow light started to flash and the Outer doors began to open, almost immediately, dust started to pour through the opening, swirling and kicking, growing as the doors opened further.
“There’s bit of a minor duster kicking about Captain.” Jones glanced over his shoulder at Specialist Bella Limbstronn, the Thor’s Meteorologist. “Can we expect anything worse Bella?” He asked as the rig continued to move forward, the doors were almost open when the green light came on and the Thor moved out onto the Martian Surface. Visibility was just a few meters, and the temperature was already dropping rapidly as the Martian night began.
"Pay close attention to the 'Fru-vision' please, Leon." Jones instructed Kamiski - this remarkable piece of kit allowed the bridge crew to 'view through' the storm up to 500 meters. "Aye Captain." Leon peered at his screen; it was like viewing a clear evening. He also noted that the 'Collision System' had picked up the big rig and was flashing a gentle yellow warning, Leon informed the Captain who nodded his thanks; "We'll try not to hit her."
“A few high winds and a really low temperature for the night, nothing to worry the Thor about.” Bella smiled at the Captain, but rechecked her PA, for any latest updates. She was responsible for assessing the weather reports streaming into the Thor, and she felt the responsibility she carried. If she missed a growing storm the rig and its crew could be in serious trouble. Bella was considered to be quite plain by many - except her hair. It had the consistency of a mop head and was dyed a striking blue and blond. 'The chunky monkey' was her nickname, but only behind her back. Say it to her face and you would need a good dentist!
Her father was a cargo Captain of some years standing and Bella, both as a child and then a girl, had often accompanied him on his rig; CV: "The Happy Swan." Since Gustov [her dad] owned the rig, he could carry whoever he wanted. The Chief referred to Bella as the 'other Cinderella' - a rich girl who preferred to rough it and make her own way in life - and he did admire her guts for that.
Starboard of the Thor, Captain Jones could make out the lights of the big cargo rig, waiting for her entry into Rossington, they flashed in greeting and Peter responded by operating a couple of the Thor's front strobes. In the lights, the big rig looked like a wall of steel. Peter could make out its bridge, showing a soft red glow through its windows as they had already switched to 'night lights' while waiting for entry to the docks.
As the Thor moved out onto surface, the bridge lights switched to night mode and the crew was bathed in a familiar red glow. "Cruising speed please Pete." Jones ordered and everyone could feel the power surging through the Thor as the engines responded; "Forty five knots now Captain." Pete replied, he glanced at his rear monitor and could see the walls of Rossington disappearing behind them, the city lights swallowed up by the dust storm and the gathering night. The Thor was now on the sand proper and heading out into the 'great nothing' [a term used by rig crews to describe the Martian deserts].
Ensign Lilly called out to the bridge crew that CV: 'The Summer Harvest' had wished them well and to keep their heads down, as it was pretty wild out there. "Tell them thanks for their concern, but this is a Weather Service rig and we're on the sand whatever the weather!" The Captain laughed and motioned to Lilly to send the reply.
"Alright to come on the bridge Captain?" Lt. Eve Votech, appeared at the bridge ladder and Jones nodded his approval, she came up behind the Captain's chair and peered through the bridge windows at the gathering gloom. "I can't see bugger all!" She spoke with some surprise in her voice.
Everyone laughed, and Jones said simply' "Welcome to the real Mars."
Captain Jones glanced at the rig’s clock; 18.00 hours CST. The Thor had departed on time and only missing one crew member - Summer Yelsin. The journey to Weather Station No.3(S) had commenced - and curry was on the menu!
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| "FOLLOW THE ROVER TO EPISODE 2: "WEATHER STATION No.3(S)." |
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"William Alexander Stephens."
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W.A.S.
Copyright © 2011-2021 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without permission.
