The Lost Colony
Copyright© 2026 by D M Arnold
Chapter 3: The Exoscout
The Sudal shuttle docked with the transit platform. The docking tunnel door opened and Nyk filed onto the platform. He took Andra’s hand. “We go to baggage claim. Then, to the ExoService wing of the platform.”
He stood waiting for his bag to slide into place. “There’s mine,” Andra said.
Nyk stooped to retrieve it, and then plucked his own. He took her hand and they walked to the transit bullet that made the loop around the massive platform.
The car stopped at the Exo terminal. Nyk led Andra to another car which took them out to the Exo wing -- a satellite platform connected via a tunnel to the main one. He stepped to a reception desk. “Nykkyo Kyhana reporting for the Varada mission.”
A young man in an ExoService uniform consulted his vidisplay. He pointed. “That bay over there. The transport shuttle will take you aboard on the next trip.”
“Which scout?” Nyk asked.
The serviceman consulted his vidisplay again. “The 501.”
“501? That’s a colonial expedition transport.”
“It’s what it says here.”
Nyk shrugged, took Andra’s hand and led her toward the shuttle bay. “Something wrong?” she asked.
“Not wrong, wrong. We’re riding ExoScout 501. The 500-series are colonial expedition transports.” He rolled his eyes as he searched his memory. “Basic crew complement is thirteen, full crew is fifty. They are designed to carry colonists and materiel to new worlds. They have barracks to accommodate up to five hundred colonists, and a very large cargo bay for pre- fab housing and so on. I think they only built a handful of them.”
“I suppose we don’t need too many,” Andra replied. “It’s been hundreds of years since we’ve seeded a colony on a new world.”
“I suppose ... Still, it seems odd to use such a vessel on this sort of mission. They’re not equipped as comm relays.”
He stood at a viewport looking out into space. Parked in station-keeping was a fleet of Exo vessels. All were much larger than the passenger packets he was accustomed to flying.
He pointed. “See? That’s a 200-series. Over there is a 300-series Explorer ... no, two of them...”
“Is that big, ugly one the 501?” Andra asked.
“Yes ... Ugly?”
She giggled. “It looks bottom-heavy.”
“It’s because of the cargo hold and barracks decks,” he replied. “They need the extra room to carry colonists and supplies when we seed a new world.”
“And -- when is THAT next likely to happen? The dome on top looks like a wart.”
“That’s the observation lounge.”
The pressure door to the shuttle bay slid open. A crewman approached them. “Nykkyo Kyhana?”
“Yes.”
“Come aboard -- we’ll take you to the scout.”
Nyk carried the travel cases into the bay. The transport shuttle, no bigger than an Earth minivan, was parked there. He climbed aboard and Andra sat beside him. “This looks like an ExoAgency shuttlecar,” Nyk remarked.
“Yes,” the shuttle pilot replied, “your Agency shuttlecars are built on the same chassis.”
The pilot began a prelaunch sequence and tested doorseals. “I’ll bet I could fly this,” he whispered to Andra.”
“Don’t deny it -- you are excited to fly in an ExoScout, aren’t you?”
“It appeals to the little kid in me. How I wish I could share something like this with Nicky.”
“I’ll give you the tour,” the pilot said. He flew the shuttle over the scout’s topsides. “Below is the observation lounge ... There is the bridge ... hyperspace sensor probes ... engineering is on the lower decks. The cargo hold is one deck up ... The row of viewports marks the barracks deck.”
“I know all this by heart,” Nyk whispered to Andra. “How this brings back my childhood.”
“The warp coil is located mid-ships,” the pilot continued. “This class has a single coil.”
“Unlike the 300 series Explorers,” Nyk whispered. “They have dual coils mounted on external pods.”
Andra smiled and patted the back of his hand.
The shuttle swept up underneath and headed astern. Clamshell doors swung open to reveal the shuttle bay. The transport made its approach and touched down. As the bay doors closed the pilot taxied to a parking stall and set the shuttle onto the deck.
Bay pressurization required a few moments, then the door safeties released with a snap. Nyk stepped onto the deck and gave Andra a hand. He pointed to a rectangle on the deck marked with a red outline. “That’s the cargo lift,” he said. “It connects directly with the cargo hold one deck below. On a seeding mission this shuttlebay can accommodate three tender shuttles for offloading colonists and supplies.”
“Absolutely correct,” the shuttle pilot remarked.
The pressure door isolating the bay from the rest of the ship opened and Nyk encountered a man in tan shirtsleeves and trousers, the ExoService duty uniform. Epaulettes with insignia identified him as the commanding officer. “Mr Kyhana, I am Captain Hayt. Welcome aboard the 501. We’re operating with a skeleton crew for this mission. You are free to pick any vacant crewmen’s cabin.” He turned to Andra. “Ms Baxa.” He extended his hand. Andra grasped it and curtsied.
Hayt led them to the passenger lift. “Crew quarters are on bridge deck,” he said.
Nyk pointed to the levels on the lift panel. “Deck one is the observation deck, two is bridge and crew quarters, three is the galley, mess and sick bay, four is barracks and shuttlebay, five is the main hold and six is engineering.”
“Have you been aboard a scout before?” the captain asked.
“In my dreams ... as a little kid. I was inside the shuttle bay on a 300, once. May I see the bridge?”
“This will be an informal flight. The bridge will be open. You are welcome on decks one through three anytime. Decks four through six are off-limits without a crew escort.”
They walked from the lift along a corridor of crew’s cabins. “Any of these,” Hayt said, gesturing. “Like I said -- we’re running a skeleton crew.”
Nyk pressed a door actuator and a cabin door slid open. Andra followed him inside. He surveyed the accommodations. The place had a well-worn look.
“Do you think the bunk is big enough for two?” he asked, pointing.
She shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
“No ... It means we’ll have to cuddle closer.”
He set down his case. “I want to see the bridge. Come with me?”
“What else is there to do on this barge?”
He took her hand and headed down the corridor, which ended at a bulkhead. Through the open door he could see the bridge and posts for the pilot, navigator, operations officer and the captain’s command. Crewmen worked vidisplays, running through checklists.
He spotted a bronze plaque mounted on the bulkhead. “ExoScout 501,” he read and ran his hand over it. “Keel laid T-Delta yards 6009.101APF ... The first 500-class. This vessel is over five hundred years old. I guess it shows ... She’s ... seasoned.”
“She’s well seasoned,” Andra remarked.
He spotted a tall young man with light skin and oat-straw white hair. He was wearing the uniform of a junior-grade officer. His eyes were of the palest blue. The young ensign glanced Nyk’s way and his jaw dropped. “Janna?” he called out.
“Zane?” she replied. “No, it’s Andra.”
He leapt over a low railing and approached her. “I knew it had to be one of you.” They embraced and kissed each other’s foreheads.
“Do you know each other?”
“Of course we do. This is Zane. He was at Rote Academy when I was at Vebinad.”
“Vebinad is our sister school,” Zane said.
“More precisely, Rote is Vebinad’s brother school,” Andra replied. “It’s the only academy that trains male ax’amfinen.”
“I remember attending class with her and Janna,” Zane said. “We used to call the two of them the Twins.”
“So I’ve heard,” Nyk replied.
“How did you end up here, Zane?”
“I washed out of Rote. I failed to make the final cut, so I enlisted in the Service.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s all right. We all know how hard it is to graduate from one of the academies. I’m the 501’s communications officer. How did YOU end up here?”
“Comm...” the first officer called. “COMM!”
“I’d better get back to my post. We can hash over old times after the watch is over.”
Nyk approached the captain. “When will we be getting underway?”
Hayt consulted a chronometer. “It’s getting late. Probably first thing tomorrow. We’re still awaiting word on our cargo.”
“Cargo?” Nyk asked.
“A communications relay. We’re giving one to the Varadans.”
“We’re giving away a comm relay?” Nyk asked.
“Consider it a diplomatic gift. It’s an old one that’s been decommissioned. For the Varadans’ purposes, it’ll work just fine. We’ll drop it off outside their heliopause before making planetfall.”
“So that explains why we’re using a 500-series scout. We needed something with some cargo capacity.”
“And, this vessel was available. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Nyk stood with his back against the bridge’s rear bulkhead. A chime sounded. “Okay, end of watch,” the first officer announced. “Put her into station-keeping.”
Captain Hayt approached Nyk. “You two are welcome to dine in my cabin.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Andra replied, “I have a prior engagement.”
Nyk watched as Andra and Zane strolled, hand-in-hand, down the corridor.
“Ax’amfinen,” Hayt muttered. “You can pick your friends, but not your family -- or, your crew.”
“I’m sorry?” Nyk replied.
The captain nodded toward the corridor. “If I had my choice I wouldn’t have an ax’amfin in my crew. Best to relegate them to what they’re good at -- being sex toys for colonial high officials. I’m surprised you have one with you.”
“Andra is a very good friend of mine,” Nyk replied. “As I’ve grown to know her, I’ve developed an appreciation for the roles her kind play.”
“Zane has been a good comm officer. I do wonder where an ax’amfin’s true loyalties lie.”
“Illya Kronta says the same thing,”
“Ah ... Kronta ... How is Illya?”
“Doing well.”
“Come with me, Nykkyo -- we’ll share a meal.” Hayt led him to another doorway that opened onto a spacious cabin directly behind the bridge.
“Captain’s quarters,” Nyk remarked.
“First officer’s is across the way. Have a seat.” Hayt pressed a panel. “It’ll be just a moment. Fully crewed, this ship would have a cabin boy...”
“A cabin boy ... That thought never crossed my mind.”
A chime sounded. The captain opened a panel and took a pair of meal trays from a dumbwaiter.
“This is quite a venerable ship,” Nyk remarked. “First in the 500-class.”
“This is the ship that seeded the Lexal colony.”
“How many 500s were built?”
“Two,” Hayt replied. “Three if you count the prototype. There’s not much need for this class of vessel. We haven’t had the opportunity to seed another colony since Lexal was founded.”
“How long do you think the crossing to Varada will take?”
“I’m estimating four standard days.”
“Four days? I’ve been on the packet to Lexal. They can make the trip in a single jump, and Lexal is more distant than Varada.”
“More likely, multiple jumps that feel like just one. You must understand, Nykkyo -- that is a commercial run. Those routes are well understood and well mapped. We’ll be charting unknown territory on our way to Varada.”
“Varada was a routine destination at one time.”
Hayt gulped his mouthful. “Never routine. That planet has the misfortune of lying close to a nexus of some very steep hyperspace gradients. We must approach that system with great caution -- we must probe and jump ... probe and jump. Add to this the fact we’re manning only one watch. We must go into station-keeping for half a day when that watch is over.”
“So, we’ll be doing hyperspace mapping, too?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wouldn’t a 300-class Explorer be better suited?”
“This ship is fully qualified for our mission. Don’t forget our cargo. A 300 would have to tow it.”
“I keep forgetting about the relay station. Could we tow something like that?”
“I wouldn’t want to attempt it.” Hayt scooped another spoonful. “Have you studied hyperspace navigation?”
“No,” Nyk replied.
The captain stood and retrieved material from his desk drawer. He returned with a polysheet, a stylus and a shirt button. “Let’s say this polysheet represents space.” With the stylus he drew two circles, one at each end of the sheet. “And, let’s say this is Floran and this is Varada.” He placed the button on one circle and began to push it along the sheet. “We could not make the transit in normal space -- not in our lifetimes, at least, except at relativistic velocities. Even then, time dilation would make the trip impractical.”
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