“That’s starting to get close enough to be on our charts,” Devon said.
“Does Earth know of this planet’s existence?” Jack asked.
“I’m not one-hundred percent sure,” Don answered. “The last stellar cartography update we received was dated Earth year 2114. Based on our readings and that data, this star could be BD-10-3166. It’s a K-0 star at the right distance.
“What about its planetary system?” Jack pressed.
“It’s listed as having only one hot, Jupiter-sized inner planet and nothing else. However, that doesn’t really mean this isn’t BD-10-3166 since the planet below us may well be in a highly inclined orbit around the star. That would be typical of a system with a closely bound Jovian. They tend to wreak havoc on the other planets’ orbits. Anyway, if that’s the case most planet hunting techniques would have missed this one.”
Jack just stared at the growing blue crescent; the fact that the planet might be Earth-like eased his frustration – but only slightly. The problem was, they were again in a completely unknown system with limited supplies, and no obvious way to get back. His irritation grew again, amplified by the fact that he had to hide it. He needed to play the part of stoic captain – someone who was sure he’d find all the answers. Instead, all he managed was to state the obvious, “So the bottom line is that we’re orbiting the second planet of star BD-10-1366, we’re two-hundred-twenty-five light-years from Earth, and the Earth date is 1904.”
“Yes, if you trust our data,” Don answered.
Jack just stared at Don after that last comment. The man was confusing, but at least he wasn’t arguing anymore. Fatigue tugged at him and his mind relented, wandering back to Don’s statement about the date: 1904. He remembered a small coin collection back on Earth with a silver dollar from that year. It was a heavy palm-sized coin with a profile of lady liberty on the front and a stylized spread eagle on the back. It was in good enough condition to still show its details, though years of tarnish left it dull grey. Its edges were nearly black with two centuries worth of grim. His great-grandfather gave it to him when he was just a boy, and told him that his own grandfather had given him the same coin collection when he was a child. If Don’s measurements were right, that same silver dollar was now a perfect gleaming medallion having just left the U.S. mint. Sometime in the next few years, it would find its way into his ancestor’s hands and work its way through the centuries back to him.
Jack was jolted back to the present by several loud cracks; they had the sound of small caliber gun shots. He spun around, looking for the source of the noise, when his ears began to pop. Instantly his stomach dropped: they were depressurizing. The loud buzz of the IPV’s alarm system filled the air as he jumped from his seat.
“Devon, status,” he called out.
“We have four impacts across the bow sir. They appear to be small, but we are losing atmosphere. Auto-sealants have been deployed – we’ll know in a moment if they’re going to hold.”
“Life support status?”
“We’ve lost point-zero-one atmospheres. Not enough to trigger automatic bulkheads yet. All other systems are functioning nominally.”
He waited for Devon’s follow up; the only sound was the continued buzz of the alarm. “Auto-sealants are holding sir,” Devon finally said.
“Very good.” Jack skimmed the ship’s sensor log before continuing, “Why didn’t we see the objects on radar before they hit?”
“Don’t know sir,” Devon answered. “Maybe it was compromised from the transit.”
“Run a full diagnostic on it. We can’t afford to miss anything else like this.” Jack ran the scenarios through his mind for a moment before continuing, “Can you tell if there are any exit points; did anything pass through the ship?”
“Actually I was thinking about that too. I’ve identified two sets of breaches on opposing sides – probably entry and exit points for two objects. We could estimate a trajectory from that.”
“Exactly,” Jack answered. Even though he was sure Devon had already thought of it, Jack said, “Compensate for our own velocity relative to this system.”
“Got it,” Devon said as he started working through the calculation. “Based on the entry and exit points, it came from bearing one-four-zero degrees, relative elevation of fifteen degrees. I’m using the line joining the star and this planet as a coordinate reference…”
“Repeat that,” Don said suddenly.
“Bearing one-four-zero degrees, relative elevation of fifteen degrees.”
Don just stared intently at his terminal and didn’t reply. Jack allowed barely a second to pass before saying, “Don, what is it?”
“I’ve had the computer running a full optical scan of the surrounding region. It flagged that location as potentially having a planet. I just haven’t followed up on it yet.”
Impatient with having to ask for details, Jack said, “Just tell me what you’ve got so far.”
“Just a sec…Ok, I’ve got one of the scopes on it now. It looks like a roughly Earth-sized planet at a distance of one-hundred-seventy million kilometers.”
“Put it on screen,” Jack ordered. The view was unimpressive; a small blue–white disk, no bigger than a pea held at arm’s length sat amid a background of stars. Jack stared at it intensely, trying to glean even a little information from the near-featureless world. “Are we at maximum magnification?”
“Not yet,” Don answered, “I’ll switch magnification in a moment.”
The screen went black before displaying a distant, Earth-like globe. The image wasn’t much of an improvement; the planet was roughly baseball-sized now. It seemed similar but not identical to Earth. Landmasses covered over half the planet, and its polar caps extended a significant distance towards its equator. There wasn’t any obvious trace of vegetation, giving it a cold, inhospitable feel. A short burst of orange flashed above the northern continent, catching his attention. “Devon,” Jack called.
“Yes, I saw it too,” his pilot quickly answered.
“Increase magnification.”
“We’re already at max.”
“Ok, replay that last segment. Freeze on the flashes.”
Seven orange pinpoints hung just above the large, icy north pole. A larger yellow-white flash seemed to hover a short distance away. Aside from their color, Jack couldn’t make out any details.
“Jack,” Don said, “We should call down to Masako – she’s got some programs that might be able to pull out some extra detail.”
“Good, do it,” Jack replied.
Don activated his comm. channel and said, “Masako, we’ve got some images we just recorded – I’m sending you the details right now. I need you to do a spectral analysis of the flashes in the upper right quadrant.”
“Understood,” was the quick reply.
Barely a minute passed before Masako’s voice came back online, “They’re broad band emissions centered at five-hundred-thirty nanometers. There’s also a strong gamma ray peak associated with each one. The sensors recorded spikes in that region just before each visual burst.”
“Gamma?” Don said aloud. “There’s nothing in this system that should be capable of producing that, at least focused bursts like that.”
“What do you mean?” Devon asked.
“Gamma ray sources are things like supernovas, or cosmic rays interacting with interplanetary or interstellar gas. They wouldn’t look anything like these images.”
“What about matter-antimatter annihilation?” Masako asked over the comm. “I mean, we used it in the Magellan’s drive system.”
“Well, yes, it emits gamma rays, but it’s not a natural event. It’d be impossible to have a natural source here with a large enough concentration to create these flashes.”
“I wouldn’t limit ourselves to natural sources, considering what we’ve seen so far,” Masako replied. “Think of it. Cities and planets completely wiped out…”
“Captain!” Devon called out urgently.
&
nbsp; “What is it, Devon?” Jack said as he stood up.
“I’ve got radar working and we have contacts.”
“How and what?”
“I thought about the impacts, sir. They were high energy strikes. It seemed highly likely to me that they were moving fast – I mean extremely fast. It gave me an idea. I checked the system and if the particles that hit us were moving above fifty percent of the speed of light, then the reflection of our radar pulses would be blue shifted out of the range of our receiving filters. We wouldn’t be able to see our own pulses coming back at us.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I just deactivated the filters and I’ve got eight contacts heading towards us. All are much larger than the objects that hit us. Seven are a bit smaller than the IPV, the eighth is huge; it’s maybe ten kilometers across. They’re moving at zero-point-six-c – sixty percent the speed of light.”
“How the hell is that possible?” Jack asked reflexively.
“I don’t know sir. But those are the contacts that I have. Their bearing is 140 degrees, relative elevation of 15 degrees. They may have come from that planet, but they’re already most of the way here.”
Jack stared at the screen but could only see a field of stars. “Where are they?
“Still too far to see. I put them at ten million kilometers out. ETA sixty seconds.”
A small white pinpoint was visible now on the display. In the few seconds it took Jack to realize it was a large ship, it brightened considerably and now dominated the surrounding stars. There were two quick flashes of orange near the object, followed by a yellow glow that persisted for a few seconds.
A second later, the comm. line came to life. “Captain, this is Masako, respond please.”
“What is it?”
“We just observed a major burst of gamma rays. Same point of origin as before.”
“Damn it. How bad?”
“Not life threatening yet, but a few more like that could be a problem.”
“Our thickest shielding is the aft engine section, right?”
Devon answered this time, “Yes, sir.”
“Use maneuvering thrusters and point us tail-first towards it. That should help a bit.”
The screen now showed a small, silver globe, with a blinding white light emanating from its rear. Several small blue lights that Jack assumed were smaller ships, were clustered near it.
“Fifteen seconds until contact. Distance, two point five million kilometers,” Devon announced.
A barrage of orange bolts leapt from the small ships and struck the rear of the globe. The resulting explosion overwhelmed the cameras, bathing the bridge in bright, yellow-white light. An automated computer warning blared through the ship, “Gamma radiation warning. Exposure at three-hundred percent of safe limit.”
The glare of the explosion faded, showing that the larger ship had somehow survived. The pursuit continued.
“Devon, cut all main power now! Keep only camera circuits active.”
“Sir?”
“Do it now! I don’t want us to be seen.”
Jack quickly hit the ship-wide comm., “Attention, we’re cutting all power. There is to be no use of internal radios. All communication is to be done by voice. This is until further notice.”
The bridge went dark, except for the image on the main screen. “Five seconds.” Devon announced. “Their closest approach will be within one-hundred-thousand kilometers.”
“Captain, what’s…”
Jack turned to see Palmer just entering the bridge; his mouth still open as he paused mid-sentence. Jack ignored him and turned back to the main screen. The large vessel dominated their view. It was a featureless, 10-kilometer-wide, silver-blue sphere. The blinding white glow of its engines was diminished, but still powerful enough that Jack couldn’t look directly at it. They were heading straight for AGC-alpha. The pursuers, however, caught up and swarmed their prey. Though Jack could only make them out as bright, blue pinpoints, there was no doubting their power. They darted around the mammoth ship, repeatedly striking it with bursts of orange light. Each tore a fresh gash into the pewter globe. Though it was only seconds from the AGC, Jack knew it wouldn’t make it. One final orange bolt cut through the large ship’s underbelly. A second later it was swallowed in a brilliant white explosion. As the shockwave traveled outwards, the pursuers turned to flee. The energy pulse was too fast though, and within seconds each of them was consumed by the advancing wall of fire.
“Devon, activate radar and sensors,” we need to see what’s going on. Instantly, an automated warning cut through the stunned silence on the bridge, “Radiation alert. Exposure monitored at five-hundred-percent above safe levels.”
Almost immediately, Devon shouted, “Captain, I’ve got radar contacts. Hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
“Position?”
“It looks like debris from the large ship. Lots of it.”
“Range?”
“One-hundred-fifty-thousand kilometers. Impact in ... forty-five seconds.”
Jack flipped open a protective cover on his chair, labeled ‘safe mode,’ and pressed the underlying red button. A series of loud thuds shot through the ship as the emergency bulkheads sealed each section.
“Devon, give me more information.”
“Radar’s overwhelmed sir. There’s too many ... It reads almost like a solid object coming right at us.”
“Understood. Just keep your eyes on those instruments. You have permission to take any evasive action you deem necessary.”
Kurt’s voice cut through the momentary silence on the bridge. “Jack, respond please.” Jack pounded the comm. button and said, “What is it?”
“What’s going on?”
“Just brace for impact. We’ve got incoming debris.” Turning his attention to Devon, he continued, “Proceed with maximum acceleration. Take us towards AGC-beta, we can use its gravity to help gain some additional speed.”
“Beta, sir?”
“That debris field’s between us and alpha. We’ve got no choice; just do it.”
“Yes sir.”
Jack welcomed the heavy pressure of two g’s forcing him into his chair. Maybe they could buy themselves some time, or at least reduce the relative velocity between them and the oncoming shrapnel. Anything that could minimize damage would help.
“Engines are at one-hundred-ten percent. But it’s not going to be enough sir. Impact in fifteen seconds. It’s just coming at us too fast – up to zero-point-three c.”
“Damn. Anything that hits us will tear right through the length of the ship,” Jack said.
“Sir?” Devon asked, unsure what he meant.
Jack mulled it over for a split second and realized what his gut was telling him: with their tail facing the oncoming debris, a single piece could go through every single compartment and kill everyone.
“Engines off. Turn us transversely. Ninety degrees with respect to the field.”
“Sir, we’ll present more surface area ...” Palmer protested.
“Yes, but we won’t risk a single impact tearing through us axially. That’d kill us all,” Jack replied. “Devon, Do it now!”
“Understood.”
The pressure of acceleration immediately ceased, making him feel as if he’d been launched forward. There was a sudden tug to his left as Devon pivoted the ship into position. “Five seconds,” Devon announced.
Jack activated the ship-wide intercom and said, “Brace for impact.”
The final seconds ticked by so slowly that he started to feel a false sense of relief. It was quickly eradicated as a series of cracks and metallic bangs echoed through the ship. He counted at least a dozen impacts before he lost track. There was a sudden loud hiss all around him, accompanied by a sharp pain in his ears.
“Hull breaches sir. Throughout the ship!” Devon called out above the blaring alarms.
Jack’s attention, though, was fixated by the next automated warning message, “Warning, bridge atmospheric press
ure dropping. Pressure at ninety percent and dropping.” He dove across the room to the emergency repair kit on the far wall. Retrieving pieces of sheet metal and sealant guns he tossed a set to Palmer and took the other as he searched for leaks.
“Pressure at eighty-five percent,” the computer’s emotionless voice announced. His head was splitting, but he easily pushed the sensation from his mind. Looking up, he saw a wisp of smoke flowing from a control panel directly toward a small crack in the ceiling. Years of training made the repair a nearly reflexive action. With one hand he quickly squeezed a bead of sealant around perimeter of the crack. A second later he tossed the gun aside, grabbed a handhold for leverage and forced the square of sheet metal up against the hole. The adhesive was strong and immediately held it in place.
“Warning, pressure at seventy-five percent and falling.”
Jack’s lungs labored in the thinning atmosphere. Ignoring the piercing pain in his ears, he pushed his way towards Palmer who was laying a bead of sealant along the floorboards. Seeing him approach, Palmer said, “Almost there.” He forced a metal patch in over the hole and held it in place, at which point Jack said, “Computer, give the atmospheric status of the bridge compartment.”
There was the briefest of pauses before the machine answered, “Pressure is at sixty-five percent and stable. Manual repairs are holding. Auto-sealants have also been deployed and are holding.”
“What about the other compartments? List the worst sites first.”
The computer proceeded, “Complete loss of atmosphere in cargo hold B. Complete loss of atmosphere in shuttle bay. Complete loss of atmosphere in secondary engineering compartment. Thirty-five percent loss ...”
“Stop,” Jack demanded. “Repeat status of secondary engineering compartment.”
“Complete loss of atmosphere. There are three major hull breaches that are too large for auto-sealants.”
“Was anyone in there?”
“Affirmative. Assistant Engineer Claire Hughes, Lieutenant Commander Kurt Hoffman. Structural integ...”
“Enough,” Jack said softly. He drifted to the floor and fought off a wave of nausea. ‘Not Kurt,’ was the only thought in his mind. It took him a moment to realize the bridge was silent; no one wanted to say anything. Forcing his own feelings aside, Jack continued, “Computer, are there any other casualties?”
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