Read science fiction, children.
And adults too – read it. Expanding your horizons has never hurt anyone. After all, books are created to be read, not burned.
"Two minutes to exit hyperspace," Ihaari warned, glancing at me. "Commander, are you sure...?"
"Senior Engineer," Trebal, sitting in the command seat, interrupted him with an icy voice. "Were you given an order?"
Ihaari looked at her, then at me. It seemed he was trying to understand why I hadn't objected...
"The decision has been made," I resolved the situation. "If you have any constructive objections or suggestions, voice them, Ihaari."
"No, I have nothing like that," he deflated. "But if we all die, know that I was against this initiative!"
"I'll keep that in mind," I replied dryly. "Officer Trebal, are you ready for the maneuver?"
"Yes, I'm ready," she replied.
"Don't mess it up," I advised. "Your life primarily depends on how you implement my plan."
"I remember," Trebal said, placing her hands on the armrests and closing her eyes for maximum concentration. "I am ready for the maneuver..."
There was no need for me to repeat myself. She was скорее reassuring herself that she was capable of what was planned. However, I wasn't the one who forced her to speak, was I?
A greenish flash from the hyperspace window ejected the "Hippaphoralkus" into real space. But only so that the ship could continue its rapid approach to the rapidly growing planet in the main viewport.
"And here's Taranis," I muttered, observing the planet from orbit. Before, when I was taking piloting lessons from Chaya, I didn't even feel like looking at the planet from space.
Now, one can enjoy it in all its glory.
Snow-white swirls of clouds, blue oceans, greenish-brown landmasses... It's beautiful, there's no denying it!
Especially considering the glow of myriad stars in space that fall into the panorama. Truly breathtaking!
And why didn't I notice this before?
Planet Taranis.
"Entering the planet's gravity well," Ihaari reported.
"Was it possible to activate the transport cabin?" I asked.
"No," the senior engineer shook his head. "The speed is too high. We can't stabilize the matter flow... We need to slow down!"
Well, of course, as if no one knew that.
It's just that our maneuvering and braking engines are in a state of baked potatoes. And we have to work with what we have.
"Disabling the right cluster of sublight engines," Trebal announced.
On the monitor responsible for displaying the ship's energy consumption, the left half of the "Hippaphoralkus'" stern flickered. A second later, it became darkened, informing us that the ship was receiving power only to the left cluster.
In total, the ship has sixteen rectangular sublight engine emitters. Grouped into four units – four in each – they are combined into two clusters – left and right – located at the stern of the ship.
Simultaneous activation of these engines results in uniformly accelerated movement of the ship in a straight line. Flights between objects within star systems or approaching objects in real space, as well as acceleration for entering hyperspace windows – that's what sublight engines are for, in general.
In known events, with the ZPM as an energy source (and, undoubtedly, with significant modifications), sublight engines can reach speeds close to the speed of light. But, considering that it takes hundreds of thousands of light-years to travel from one end of the galaxy to the other, using them isn't very practical. When there's an alternative, of course.
"Observing trajectory correction," Ihaari announced. "Two degrees and increasing."
"Are we going to make it?" I asked.
"No," the senior engineer replied, checking the readings on several consoles. "The speed is too high, the gravitational pull is insufficient for us to enter orbit."
"In other words, we're going to fly past?" I clarified.
"Yes!" Ihaari snapped. "That's why I said your maneuver is nothing but foolishness! No one has done this for millions of years! There's no current program to calculate all the risks!"
"You did the calculations yourself!" I reminded him. "And you said it would work!"
"I said, 'It will work if we don't die!'" the senior engineer retorted. "It seems I was wrong. Give me time to recalculate! If this can be solved, then there was an inaccuracy somewhere!"
"Then, Plan B," I ordered, touching the radio transmitter with my finger, the headset of which was attached to my ear. "Alvar, open the hangar and fly to Taranis."
"Understood," the Ermen said without further ado. "Good luck to you!"
Plan B involved using the transport cabin to evacuate all excess personnel from the "Hippaphoralkus." After all, Plan A involved a very dangerous maneuver.
In case of the traditional failure of Plan B, Plan C was developed: everyone except me, Trebal, and Ihaari would fly off the ship, but using "jumpers." Those available in the battleship's hangar and those requisitioned from the "Aurora" were sufficient for each possessor of the Ancient gene to take one or two Athosians and three stasis pods in the cargo hold.
If it works – then everything will be fine. As soon as the "jumpers" land on the surface, they will immediately unload in the hangar and fly back to the "Hippaphoralkus" to pick up a new batch of "sleeping beauties."
If not... We will save only about fifty people. The rest will have to be abandoned on board until we find a way to stop the ship's flight.
It will become clear soon.
"I'm starting to increase the thrust of the right engine cluster," Trebal announced. "By increasing speed and changing trajectory..."
"I need another minute!" Ihaari shouted, tearing himself away from the control console. "Don't do anything! An incorrectly chosen speed or orbital entry angle will put such a load on the ship that we could simply fall apart!"
"The 'jumpers' have left the hangar," Alvar reported. "The pilots have set course for the outpost."
"Report the situation when you arrive," I ordered. After thinking, I added:
"Contact Atlantis and tell them about our situation, Chaya. If she can help..."
"Done!" Ihaari looked at Trebal. "Increasing speed using the right sublight cluster!"
"That's exactly what I was doing!" the girl exclaimed indignantly. "You said..."
"I know what I said," the senior engineer interrupted. "But without the numbers, I couldn't say if we would die or not! Increasing thrust by five percent every three seconds. I'll reroute all free energy to the shields – this will reduce the stress on the hull."
Despite the fact that we seemed to be flying parallel to the surface of the planet Taranis, it was already clear that the ideal plan – to exit hyperspace and enter orbit around Taranis – had failed.
It was precisely by using the planet's gravity that the Ancient warship was supposed to be "braked."
The idea was based on the principle opposite to the one known as a "gravity assist."
Or, scientifically, a "gravitational maneuver." Its purpose is to change the course and speed of the ship using the gravitational forces of a large celestial body.
For the first time in Earth's history, the Soviet spacecraft, the automatic interplanetary station "Luna-3," applied it.
A gravitational maneuver involves the approach of a spacecraft in orbital flight to a sufficiently massive celestial body orbiting the same center of mass. If the approach is to a planet, then the center of mass will be the system's star. If, for example, the maneuver is performed around a satellite orbiting a planet, then the center of mass will be the planet itself.
On Earth, this technique is used to accelerate, decelerate, or correct the trajectory of spacecraft. It helps to significantly increase (or decrease) speed, change trajectory, or vector of flight. This significantly saves fuel reserves.
Therefore, if Soviet scientists, who had just begun space exploration, could calculate this in fifty-nine years of the last century, then those who made the journey from one distant galaxy to another millions of years ago (or even more) would find it a piece of cake.
Apparently, not entirely true.
No matter how much Trebal boasted about the advancement of her species, in reality, Ihaari needed several days to calculate the data. And he made a mistake.
Yes, it's unlikely that Earthlings in fifty-nine would have managed so quickly, but... There are millions of years of evolution between us! The Ancients have certainly been roaming the expanses of this galaxy for hundreds of thousands of years!
Alright, that's all lyrical.
"Starting trajectory correction," Trebal announced. "First..."
It didn't significantly affect the ship, but at the same time, the views of Taranis, occupying the left half of the viewport on the bridge, became slightly larger.
"Don't maintain constant acceleration," Ihaari said. "In our case, correction should be done in short pulses. Thanks to the shields, the load on the hull will be minimal, as will the influence of gravity..."
In a simplified representation, a gravitational maneuver around a planet looks like this: the spacecraft enters the planet's sphere of influence with a given entry speed relative to the planet. This speed is determined by the difference in speeds of the spacecraft and the planet relative to the star. In the planetocentric coordinate system, the spacecraft orbits the planet along a hyperbolic trajectory and leaves its sphere of influence with an exit speed exceeding the entry speed.
After the spacecraft leaves the planet's sphere of influence, its heliocentric exit velocity will be equal to the sum of the entry velocity and the planet's velocity. This is called velocity increment and is the result of a gravitational maneuver in the "gravity assist" variant.
The velocity increment depends not on the planet's orbital velocity, but on the relative approach velocity of entry, the planet's mass, and the aiming distance – the closer the spacecraft's trajectory passes to the planet, the greater the deflection angle and the more significant the velocity increment. The minimum distance is limited by the need to avoid contact of the spacecraft with the planet, including its atmosphere.
But in our case, it is necessary not to accelerate, but to decelerate a spacecraft the size of a two-kilometer Ancient warship using Taranis's gravity.
And for this, it is quite enough to move not along the vector of the planet's orbital motion around the star, but against it.
Yes, in interplanetary space, there is no substance dense enough to stop the speed of a body moving by inertia. But there is gravity and the laws of celestial mechanics. And even in this universe, Newton's Third Law cannot be deceived: the action force is still equal to the reaction force.
Like the planets of the Solar System, moving counter-clockwise around the Sun, Taranis similarly rotated around its axis and star. Therefore, we exited hyperspace "against the grain."
Due to the fact that power to the right engine cluster was turned off, we had the opportunity to deflect the battleship's motion vector to the right, by increasing the driving force on the left.
And now, by adjusting the degree of our entry into the planet's gravity zone with the left cluster, we were moving against the gravitational eddies, as the Ancients called them, and thus reducing our own speed. Thanks to this, the "Hippaphoralkus" will lose its excess speed in real space, enter a stable orbit above Taranis, and not rush into the impenetrable distances of endless space.
At least, in theory...
On the forty-third course correction, a groan of protest against the planet's gravitational influence spread through the ship. The "Hippaphoralkus" is already close to its goal, but its rotation speed is still too high. At any moment, it could be thrown out of orbit or torn to pieces by opposing forces as soon as we turn off the shields. And we will have to turn them off.
"The second batch of 'jumpers' has left the hangar," Alvar informed me via radio. "Another twenty pods were transported."
"What's the situation at the outpost?" I asked, looking at Ihaari, who was quietly cursing under his breath. The metal in several external compartments had deformed, causing depressurization. As far as I can see, it's about the corridors, so nothing serious.
"Everything is calm," he replied. "No sign of alien presence, although there's a whole delegation at the gates. It seems they've been sitting here for some time, wanting to pass through the gates. Should I do something about them?"
"Ignore all their desires for now," I ordered. "Contacting Atlantis is our priority."
"Yes, that's what I planned, but these idiots settled in the vortex creation zone. If we start dialing the address..."
"Get them out of there," I ordered, hearing an alarm signal from one of the consoles. "We have more important problems here."
"Understood, I'll handle it," Alvar replied.
"What happened?" I asked Ihaari, who was studying the data.
"One of the engines in the working cluster heated up to critical temperature," he reported. "I had to shut it down and three others in its section, otherwise there would have been an explosion. Apparently, the cooling system failed..."
"How much will this hinder us?" I asked.
Losing four out of eight working engines is bad. Considering the speeds we're talking about...
"Significantly," Ihaari grimaced as if from a toothache. "The orbital correction speed has halved. I'll either have to increase the load on the remaining engines – twice permanently and four times during correction – or recalculate the entire procedure with new parameters."
"What's the probability that if we supply more energy to the remaining engines, we'll burn them out too?"
"I don't know!" Ihaari said irritably. It seemed he didn't particularly like being under pressure at that moment. "This ship is over ten thousand years old! I can't guarantee any of the active systems!"
"Then start figuring it out," I said. "Has the ship's speed dropped enough to use the teleportation cabin?"
"Let's see," Ihaari ran across half the bridge to another console. "Yes... No!"
"Can you be more precise?"
"We need one more speed correction," he blurted out. "Then we can enter the allowed speed limit for energy transfer."
"Then calculate a new correction," I assigned the task, glancing at Trebal.
The girl, despite sitting in a comfortable ergonomic command chair, looked like a squeezed lemon.
"Are you alright?" I asked quietly, approaching her.
"It's not my first time piloting," she smiled weakly. "But this... It's too difficult for me. It seems controlling a ship without maneuvering engines is harder than with them."
"Oh, come on," I encouraged her. "You're doing pretty well. At least you don't have to turn on the engines anew every time, as I initially thought I would have to."
"Whoever tells your nation that you don't need constantly running engines for straight-line travel clearly doesn't know the laws of stellar mechanics," Trebal chuckled. "I feel that if we had done that, the engines would have exploded without the warning system activating."
There is a well-known viewpoint that constantly running engines are not needed for space flight. Why do it, they say, if there is no resistance in space? Just a waste of fuel.
It would be fine, the idea is actually sound... Until the size and mass of the spacecraft exceed certain limits. Yes, there is no resistance in a vacuum. But to maneuver a starship, you either need to equip it with maneuvering engines the size of sublight engines, or a huge number of smaller ones.
The fact is that even in a vacuum, a single conventional push is not enough to turn a machine weighing several million tons, or even more. Different races solve this problem differently. The Ancients, for example, do it through the simultaneous operation of sublight and maneuvering engines.
The analogy here is similar to turning the wheels of a car with a non-functioning steering system – it's much easier to turn while driving than to twist the steering wheel while stationary. In addition, the actions of the maneuvering engines reduce inertial speed, which is very important for a warship – those who slow down in the heat of battle become priority targets.
Trebal tried to explain all this logic of constantly running sublight engines to me, but for the most part, I didn't hear a single familiar law of physics or description. From this, I concluded that at the level of Ancient space travel, thousands of other physical laws and forces are open and active, which modern astrophysicists don't even suspect.
"Can you see this through?" I asked her.
"I don't know," the girl answered honestly. "It's... It's difficult for me to connect with the ship when half the systems I'm used to using for piloting aren't working."
"In that case, rest," I helped her out of the seat and sat her in the nearest chair. "You've already done most of the work..."
"Not even close!" Ihaari exclaimed, tearing himself away from his calculations. "We've completed the easiest part of the job – and with eight engines, not four. We'll need another one hundred and seventy-four corrections to equalize speeds and not burn out the engines. We'll have to turn them on once a second for one second, and so on, one hundred and seventy-four times..."
"Isn't it easier to turn them on once for the whole time?"
"No, it's not easier," Ihaari objected. "Listen, I can explain why it needs to be done this way, but we have little time. We've already completed thirty percent of the braking path, but only twenty percent of the planned work. If we don't hurry, we'll have big problems with structural integrity."
"Then tell me what needs to be done," I ordered, climbing into the command chair. "Trebal," the girl looked at me with an exhausted gaze. "As soon as the transport chamber can be used, transfer to Taranis. And transfer as many stasis chambers as possible to the planet. I'll finish everything myself."
"And what if something happens again?" Ihaari protested. "A malfunction or worse...?"
"I think the onboard computer will give me a hint on how to fix the situation," I said optimistically. "It worked during Trebal's mutiny."
"It worked," the girl said quietly. "But I'm not sure if someone from the Ascended didn't help you. I've never heard of a mental connection with equipment being at that level before..."
The Ascended helped me? I highly doubt anyone of them would risk interfering. It's a violation of the rules, after all.
Besides, my connection with the "Hippaphoralkus" onboard computer is not much different from how my interaction with the "jumper" computer went. Although... who knows? Honestly, I'd be glad if someone among this arrogant crowd appeared who is helping me.
"Start the adjustment," Ihaar said, flicking switches and buttons on his console. "I've reviewed the speed output and voltage supply to the engines, so there will be more adjustments... But I'm already preparing a program for you and will upload it to the onboard computer. This will help you conserve energy during mental contact... But it also increases the risk of a speed increase. I don't like the influence of stellar wind, distortions, and vacuum instability... You'll have to make two hundred and seventeen adjustments. You need to start in a minute and a half. Forty milliseconds for engine operation, ten milliseconds for a break. This way, we won't burn out the engines, the shields won't burn out from gravitational resistance, and the hull's structural frame won't deform... But you'll feel very, very bad afterwards...."
"It's not the constant tension that's exhausting, but the mental contact with the ship itself," Trebal explained. "I've already said it: the longer the exposure, the weaker you get..."
"I'll keep that in mind," I promised, closing my eyes and mentally addressing the onboard computer.
"Well, shall we save you?"
Of course, it would be foolish to think it would answer me. After all, even though the Ancients' computers are very advanced, they are not artificial intelligence yet.
"First and second adjustments completed," I heard Ihaar's voice through the cotton wool. "Speed... has decreased. We are within the acceptable range for using the transport cabin!"
"Get into it, fast!" I commanded. "If we can't brake, I'll follow you."
"Alright," Trebal's voice sounded. "Let's go, Ihaar."
I didn't open my eyes so as not to break mental contact with the ship, so the touch of lips on my cheek was a surprise.
"For luck," Trebal whispered. "Please, don't take unnecessary risks. You are more important than the ship."
"Really?" I asked, initiating another adjustment. And another, and another... "And what makes me so special?"
"If you survive, I'll tell you," the girl promised.
It even made me wonder – is all this manipulative game with the consequences of breaking the rules by the Ascended some kind of quirk of the "Aurora" officers, or what?
But there was no time to find answers.
It was the thirty-seventh adjustment, and I already felt like I was starting to get "helicopters"...
Read, children, science fiction. One day it might save your life.
Or it might kill you.