The classified transmission he had received that morning from the base at Shanxi was proof of that. It was both magnificent and terrifying, and he knew there were some things humanity was not yet ready to face. He had seen firsthand just how beautifully cold the galaxy could be. Grissom knew the truth was much more complex.
Humanity’s expansion across the stars was a glorious adventure of discovery, and the mysteries of the galaxy were just waiting to be revealed. To people back on Earth, the unexplored vastness of space was still a wonder. The Alliance worked hard to maintain these romantic ideals-they were good for recruitment. But all vessels were designed with several tiny ports and at least one main viewing window, typically on the bridge, as a concession to antiquated romantic ideals of space travel.
Grissom hated the viewports Alliance ships were purely instrument driven-they required no visual references of any kind. The ghostly illumination of the familiar red-shifted universe spilled in through the cabin’s tiny viewport, gradually cooling to more normal hues as they decelerated. A second later he felt the unmistakable deceleration surge as the vessel’s mass effect field generators wound down and the New Delhi dropped from faster-than-light travel into speeds more acceptable to an Einsteinian universe. Disengaging FTL drive core.” Rear Admiral Jon Grissom of the Alliance, the most famous man on Earth and its three fledgling interstellar colonies, glanced up briefly as the voice of the SSV New Delhi’s helmsman came over the shipboard intercom.
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