First, have a picture of a Perfectly Ordinary Fenspace Station:
![[Image: stylin.jpg]](http://fnord.sandwich.net/images/stylin.jpg)
(PS238 r0xx0rz j00r b0xx0rz, btw)
Next, have a bit more story. There are clues as to the nature of the good ship Explain Star in there. I wonder if you can figure them out.
"Phobos Control, this is Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Zero Two Three Heavy, we are inbound from Saturn and are on Mars approach. Requesting orbital insertion window and a rendezvous path for docking at Phobos Station, over."
"Understood, Phobos Control. Let us know when the queue starts to move. Zero Two Three Heavy out."
The navicomp chimed as the ATC system fed us all the data we needed to make a safe orbital insertion. Mars always had a lot of traffic - being the closest thing to an inhabitable planet not under the 'danelaw, lots of people had homesteads or camping sites or whatnot on the surface, plus with the terraforming going on you had comet drops and all sorts of other inscrutable tasks going on - and with the Convention at Phobos, things had just gotten messier. We *could* have just bulldozed our way through that mess and gone straight in, the Star has the engine power and the navigational deflectors to do it, but that would be an unfathomable breach of Convention ettiquete.
Once the navicomp had digested our route data, I switched control over to the autopilot. "Okay Ptichka," I said to the console, "get us on our track and hold her steady. I'm going to get a drink, be back in five." The console chirped agreeably and I climbed out of my seat on my way down to the foredeck.
Climbing down from the flight deck I saw the rest of the crew hanging out, as per usual when we were in transit, in the foredeck lounge. The lounge is the only large common room on the ship (aside from the fight deck, but that's not the place to socialize) and as a result we tend to use it a lot. It's a bit cramped when we're running with a full crew, but considering half the Nation lives in converted cars I think we're pretty lucky.
The lounge is also the one place onboard that has a really good view of space. There are no windows - the only windows are in the windscreen up on the flight deck - but using cameras incorporated into the hull connected to the biggest, baddest plasma TV screens we could find and then mounted on the lounge walls pasted together with a bit of spare handwavium, we had a beautiful 270-degree view of whatever was going on outside. It was *almost* better than the real thing.
"What news from the front, O my captain?"
"I've got good news and bad news," I said as I hit the deck. "The good news is we're on track for Mars orbit, no hitches. The bad news is Phobos has heavy traffic, so we'll probably be stuck waiting to come in for a landing for the rest of the day."
That announcement brought a faint, but heartfelt, groan from everybody. Three weeks out at Saturn had made us appreciate the creature comforts of the inner system. The Explain Star is a lovely ship, but sooner or later you get tired of eating, drinking and bathing in nothing but handwavium recycle.
Our chief engineer shrugged philosophically. "Ah well," he said. "At least we'll get a chance to do some rubbernecking."
Which is what we set out to do. Or that's what they set out to do, anyway. I retrieved a root beer from the fridge and climbed back up to the flight deck to oversee the orbital insertion. Ptichka could've handled it without any input from me - that's what she was designed for - but as captain I figured that I should at least be there.
Initial insertion came off without a hitch. We'd started on Mars's night side, bounced our deflectors off the atmosphere for a second or two and settled into a nice looping orbit that would bring us into our parking spot in an hour or so. I sat in my comfortable pilot's chair, sipping on root beer and catching up on my reading while Ptichka did most of the hard work.
As we crossed over into the dayside I noticed we were starting to pick up more traffic. Cars, boats, planes and other cobbled-together spacecraft drifting around us. Through the hatch down to the lounge I could sort of hear the faint sound of snarky comments and laughter as the crew judged each craft on technical and aesthetic merits. I chuckled a bit and went back to my reading.
"HOLY SHIT!" The exclamation came from the lounge, jostling me out of book trance. The sound wasn't alarm, it was more... astonishment. I blinked and thumbed open the intercom.
"Something wrong down there?"
"Mal! Check it out, starboard near the planet!" That was Elena, our resident n00b and offical Person Who Remembers The Sense of Wonder. "I've never *seen* a ship that big before!"
Curious, I took a glance outside the window, looking in the general direction Elena had said.
I have to admit, I was surprised.
About five clicks away off our starboard wing, moving maybe a few feet per second faster than us (some part of my mind idly wondered what the hell Phobos ATC was doing, grouping us so close like that) so it drifted by majestically instead of flashing past in a blur, was the biggest by-Cthulhu starship I had ever seen.
The Explain Star is big as fen ships go, running 40 meters from nose to tail, 20 meters tall and a 25 meter wingspan. This thing had to be a good 150 meters long, with a 30 meter beam. In its previous life it must've been a container ship, with a long, flat foredeck and superstructure that looked like an office building glued to the stern. The old hull had been covered with what looked like armor plating, a forest of new and interesting antennae were mounted on the superstructure and best of all, there was a gigantic weapon mount of some kind attached to the forecastle.
"Look at that!" Elena shouted into the intercom as the megaship sailed past. "Isn't that something?"
"Yeah," I replied. "That is indeed something." I watched the ship go by in silence, looking for a name or registry number I could look up once we were docked at Phobos. I *had* to get the story out of this one. The ship's stern came into view, two huge impressive-looking engines flanking the superstructure, and between them I could just about make out the ship's name painted on the fantail:
WDF WAYWARD SON
SDF-17
---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
(PS238 r0xx0rz j00r b0xx0rz, btw)
Next, have a bit more story. There are clues as to the nature of the good ship Explain Star in there. I wonder if you can figure them out.
"Phobos Control, this is Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Zero Two Three Heavy, we are inbound from Saturn and are on Mars approach. Requesting orbital insertion window and a rendezvous path for docking at Phobos Station, over."
"Understood, Phobos Control. Let us know when the queue starts to move. Zero Two Three Heavy out."
The navicomp chimed as the ATC system fed us all the data we needed to make a safe orbital insertion. Mars always had a lot of traffic - being the closest thing to an inhabitable planet not under the 'danelaw, lots of people had homesteads or camping sites or whatnot on the surface, plus with the terraforming going on you had comet drops and all sorts of other inscrutable tasks going on - and with the Convention at Phobos, things had just gotten messier. We *could* have just bulldozed our way through that mess and gone straight in, the Star has the engine power and the navigational deflectors to do it, but that would be an unfathomable breach of Convention ettiquete.
Once the navicomp had digested our route data, I switched control over to the autopilot. "Okay Ptichka," I said to the console, "get us on our track and hold her steady. I'm going to get a drink, be back in five." The console chirped agreeably and I climbed out of my seat on my way down to the foredeck.
Climbing down from the flight deck I saw the rest of the crew hanging out, as per usual when we were in transit, in the foredeck lounge. The lounge is the only large common room on the ship (aside from the fight deck, but that's not the place to socialize) and as a result we tend to use it a lot. It's a bit cramped when we're running with a full crew, but considering half the Nation lives in converted cars I think we're pretty lucky.
The lounge is also the one place onboard that has a really good view of space. There are no windows - the only windows are in the windscreen up on the flight deck - but using cameras incorporated into the hull connected to the biggest, baddest plasma TV screens we could find and then mounted on the lounge walls pasted together with a bit of spare handwavium, we had a beautiful 270-degree view of whatever was going on outside. It was *almost* better than the real thing.
"What news from the front, O my captain?"
"I've got good news and bad news," I said as I hit the deck. "The good news is we're on track for Mars orbit, no hitches. The bad news is Phobos has heavy traffic, so we'll probably be stuck waiting to come in for a landing for the rest of the day."
That announcement brought a faint, but heartfelt, groan from everybody. Three weeks out at Saturn had made us appreciate the creature comforts of the inner system. The Explain Star is a lovely ship, but sooner or later you get tired of eating, drinking and bathing in nothing but handwavium recycle.
Our chief engineer shrugged philosophically. "Ah well," he said. "At least we'll get a chance to do some rubbernecking."
Which is what we set out to do. Or that's what they set out to do, anyway. I retrieved a root beer from the fridge and climbed back up to the flight deck to oversee the orbital insertion. Ptichka could've handled it without any input from me - that's what she was designed for - but as captain I figured that I should at least be there.
Initial insertion came off without a hitch. We'd started on Mars's night side, bounced our deflectors off the atmosphere for a second or two and settled into a nice looping orbit that would bring us into our parking spot in an hour or so. I sat in my comfortable pilot's chair, sipping on root beer and catching up on my reading while Ptichka did most of the hard work.
As we crossed over into the dayside I noticed we were starting to pick up more traffic. Cars, boats, planes and other cobbled-together spacecraft drifting around us. Through the hatch down to the lounge I could sort of hear the faint sound of snarky comments and laughter as the crew judged each craft on technical and aesthetic merits. I chuckled a bit and went back to my reading.
"HOLY SHIT!" The exclamation came from the lounge, jostling me out of book trance. The sound wasn't alarm, it was more... astonishment. I blinked and thumbed open the intercom.
"Something wrong down there?"
"Mal! Check it out, starboard near the planet!" That was Elena, our resident n00b and offical Person Who Remembers The Sense of Wonder. "I've never *seen* a ship that big before!"
Curious, I took a glance outside the window, looking in the general direction Elena had said.
I have to admit, I was surprised.
About five clicks away off our starboard wing, moving maybe a few feet per second faster than us (some part of my mind idly wondered what the hell Phobos ATC was doing, grouping us so close like that) so it drifted by majestically instead of flashing past in a blur, was the biggest by-Cthulhu starship I had ever seen.
The Explain Star is big as fen ships go, running 40 meters from nose to tail, 20 meters tall and a 25 meter wingspan. This thing had to be a good 150 meters long, with a 30 meter beam. In its previous life it must've been a container ship, with a long, flat foredeck and superstructure that looked like an office building glued to the stern. The old hull had been covered with what looked like armor plating, a forest of new and interesting antennae were mounted on the superstructure and best of all, there was a gigantic weapon mount of some kind attached to the forecastle.
"Look at that!" Elena shouted into the intercom as the megaship sailed past. "Isn't that something?"
"Yeah," I replied. "That is indeed something." I watched the ship go by in silence, looking for a name or registry number I could look up once we were docked at Phobos. I *had* to get the story out of this one. The ship's stern came into view, two huge impressive-looking engines flanking the superstructure, and between them I could just about make out the ship's name painted on the fantail:
WDF WAYWARD SON
SDF-17
---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"