The Distant Starry Sky

[Double]

Sander floated in a slow circle, encircled by the nebula. Infinitely variable color glimmered in panoramic splendor ever direction he looked. Infant stars fed on swirling dust clouds millions of miles wide. The pulsing, whirring sound of birthing and dying stars buzzed in his ears. The very womb of the galaxy held him in it's icy cold fiery center. He sighed to himself, grateful for the respite. He triggered his suit optics to take a 4th dimensional capture of the scene around him. It was worth saving in his archive.


Sander Hopsfield drifted through space, shrouded in the most sophisticated individual piece of technology that humanity had devised up to that point in its development. The seamless white suit, gold-visored helmet and teardrop shaped unit on his back were the culmination of centuries of research, development, trial-and-error, and sheer dumb luck. It made him obscenely powerful, unimaginably fast, and carried the greatest moral and ethical challenges man had ever known. He was an Agent. The suit was an Omega.


"Drifter, this is Beacon," came a soft voice in his ear. He winced a tiny bit. His Operator was not an unpleasant woman. On the contrary, she was smart, capable and easily the smartest person he'd met in this time frame. The fact of the matter was he thought he had some time off. He sighed again, this time more wearily. No rest for the wicked.... "Beacon, this is Drifter."


"Lovely picture, Drifter, one for the scrapbook," she said cheerily. Every sensor reading, communication relay, and image capture was instantaneously transmitted to Luna Base, so she'd doubtlessly taken the time to review his latest entry. "But unfortunately, the break's over. We've got a job..."

 

[Double]

Sander shook his head. The Interstellar Defense Corps was always busy, and given that there were barely a dozen Agents for all the myriad star systems, it was never long before he was summoned into duty. Hell, just the short time he had to float was a bit of a miracle; he usually had jobs stacked back to back.


"Beacon, I just barely got the Prime Minister of Oberon back to their core planet. You know how I hate escort missions..." The Oberon system was a valuable source of rare elements, given the unique configuration of planetoids and two small stars and a single larger one. Their Prime Minister had visited a large Economic Symposium in nearby Enterry system and had demanded an Agent for his escort, despite being offered a lance of top of the line flagships. After a short but very impolite conversation with IDC brass, Sander found himself cruising alongside the PM's rather decadent yacht for four days, and sitting in the corner of grand alabaster chambers as rich planet owners talked about how great it was to be rich. What a waste.


 
He could hear Beacon sigh, and in his mind, he could see her rolling her eyes. "Drifter, you know as well as I do, that our plans, wants, needs and desires take a backseat to the security and safety needs of the Interstellar Republic. Besides, you were a flagged as a special priority on this task. It's a portal."

 

[Double]

Sander's eyebrows perked at that comment. A portal. Due to his rather unique skill set and experiences, Sander was the number one Agent summoned when magically influenced phenomena occurred. if the IDC had decided to contact him, it meant the they'd exhausted all other avenues. That meant a ridiculous list of tests, scans, and experts had already been thrown at it with no real answers. He sighed yet again and shook his head, despite the fact that no one could see him. "What do we know already?"


A brief shimmer passed over his field of vision and Beacon appeared before him. Tall, slim, blonde, archaic black horn rim glasses, pencil skirt and white blouse, patent leather Mary Janes. Beacon - Jenny Wentworth - was an efficient, pleasant woman to work with, but she was also very proud of her position, knowing that her guidance and support made Sander more effective. In her more officious moments, she could be a bit of a pain, but her enthusiasm was a tonic in an otherwise bureaucratic wasteland. Currently they were in full multimedia connection, and next to her form shimmered a swirling purple and gold vortex, bracketed by various bits of data. "The portal appeared without any preamble approximately 48 hours ago in the Vertruden System. The absence of subspatial and gravitronic precursors precluded the possibility of a man-made wormhole or jump point, but standard operating procedure meant a lance of IDC ships and numerous scientific vessels were immediately summoned to identify and classify it. Two days later and there are no scientific indicators. This lack of progress has led to our current conversation. Your orders are to make all haste to Vertruden Delta. Since your jump capacitors are at full charge, that means one full jump and a 12 hour recharge in the Surrindra System, then a jump to the portal site. Anything else you need before making way?"


"Do they have a room ready for me in Surrrindra?" Sander asked sarcastically.


"Boarding arrangements have been made at the system's IDC headquarters, Drifter," she responded with only a shade of a smile.


Sander chuffed a quick laugh. "Well, I'm off then. I'll let you know when I'm going to jump to Vertruden. Drifter, out." Beacon disappeared, leaving him alone with the nebula again. His display automatically brought up jump coordinates and telemetry. With a word, the Omega slipped sideways through time and space to appear a couple hundred light years away in Surrindra system.