“Roger that, Odyssey. Lines are coming across now.”

Snaking out from the Indigo, thick hoses glided across the space between the two ships, reducing their distance to a few hundred feet before the tanker altered its course and paralleled the Odyssey. Small pods were in place on the ends of the hoses, each containing a two-man crew that guided the hoses into place. The five hoses were soon locked into the Odyssey’s rear compartment, and the tanker began emptying its cargo.

By tanking up at speed in the outer system, the Odyssey would be able to keep from wasting a large percentage of its fuel during the initial boost phase of the trip. The pull of the sun’s gravity was less here, and they already had built momentum while the ship was still significantly lighter due to its largely empty tanks.

Because of those same empty tanks, however, the fueling would take the better part of what remained of the night. Weston retired shortly after the process had begun, leaving third watch to look after the ship while they were being resupplied. When he woke, the low hum he felt through the deck assured him that the ship was again under full thrust and moving toward the edge of the Sol System.

On the bridge everything was running smoothly. They had just crossed the orbit of Pluto, and although the planet itself was nowhere in sight, it was a cheerful milestone in itself since they were the first humans to reach that far. Roberts had relieved the night watch a couple hours earlier and was sifting through crew assignments when the captain stepped onto the bridge.

“Captain on the bridge!”

“Status,” Weston ordered as he stepped over to the command chair.

“We just crossed the orbit of Pluto thirty minutes ago, sir. Technically, we can engage the drive when ready, sir,” Roberts replied crisply. “Though, the official heliopause is still a few minutes away.”

“Good. Helm, calculate the trajectory—and be precise.”

Lieutenant Daniels bent over his console and began the calculations. “Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Roberts, contact the transition team. Tell them to charge the system.”

Roberts turned to a console on his left, tapping a series of commands. “Transition team reports ready, sir. We can engage the drive at any time,” he said into a recessed microphone.

“Good.” Weston flipped a switch on his console and activated the ship-wide intercom. “Attention, this is Captain Weston speaking. We are preparing to engage the ship’s transition drive system. We have all been briefed on what to expect and the psychological impact of what we are about to experience. Please brace yourselves and report any problems to the medical labs. That is all.”

“Helm, do you have that trajectory for me?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I just fed it into the system. We’re ready on this end.”

“All right. I want a go, no-go check from all stations.”

“Helm…go.”

“Transition Control…go.” The speakers didn’t convey any uncertainty, and Weston wished that he shared the sentiment.