by Troy Osgood
Had the pilots just commited suicide?
The drop ship shook and the vibrations changed. I could feel the ship’s metal floor almost throbbing in time with the engines as they powered up. We were pushed back in our seats, pushed to the side away from the front, as the drop ship burst out of the shell of the freighter.
With the hatch closed we couldn’t see anything but had to hope the pilots were quickly getting us into the asteroid belt.
The freighter had been detonated, probably exploding in time with a blast from an XT laser. Make the Tiat think the ship had been destroyed. Explosions, set by the techs back on station, would have ripped the ship in half. They would have been placed where they would have done the least damage to the cargo hold, with the drop ship, or the cockpit but also where they would split the ship and expose the hold to space so we could escape.
I knew we had entered the asteroid belt when the shaking of the drop ship increased. The entire structure vibrated as well as the ship itself being pushed and pulled by the asteroids. Well they weren’t comfortable, drop ship had very strong thrusters. They needed them in order to power through storms, thick air and other obstacles on the various planets.
An asteroid belt’s messed up gravity shouldn’t have been a problem.
Had the previous trip been this bad? I couldn’t remember. Or had I purposely blocked it from memory?
*****
Twenty minutes later we got through the belt and to the other side into relatively clear space.
We had to hope that the Tiat had bought the ruse, thinking the freighter had been destroyed. An old trick but as Jessups was fond of saying, the reason they were classics was because they worked so often. The XTs couldn’t fly through the belt, not as easily as we had. There had been some close ones. We could feel the many times smaller asteroids had hit the hull of the ship. The sound had been a deep boom with each one, the hull echoing with the impacts. Thankfully the ship’s armor was thick and held up.
The star fighters would have been destroyed by any of those smaller impacts.
Belts had earned the name because of their shape. They resembled a belt wrapped around nothing but more space or a planet or moon. There was a width to them, they didn’t go over the top or bottom.
The Tiat ships could have flown over the belt and into the clear space we now occupied.
So we had to move fast. The rocks themselves would protect us from scanners. But only until a Tiat ship was in a position where it’s scanners went over or under the asteroids at just the right angle. And there probably would be Tiat patrols in this area as well.
Or maybe not.
The mission planners, who I had always thought needed to actual go on missions sometimes, had figured the Tiat wouldn’t patrol inside the belt as no one was expected in system and no one should know they were operating out of the belt.
I wondered if anyone had tried to point out that the entrance we made would put the Tiat on alert and probably have them run patrols to be safe. I mean that’s what I would have done if I was them.
The tough part was going to be finding the rock before the Tiat inevitably found us.
Again.
The hatch to the cockpit slid open and the co-pilot looked my way.
“Captain Lancer,” he said. “You’re up.”
With a sign I unhooked my crash webbing. I stood up a little shakily, getting the feeling back in my legs. Using the handles mounted to the top of the hold I walked the short distance into the cockpit. No handles inside, I had to hold onto the back of the co-pilot’s seat to stay steady. We were still being thrown around a bit by the asteroids gravity and the pilot was continuing the erratic movements to confuse any possible sensors even though the mission planners said there wouldn’t be any.
“You got the coordinates,” I asked and the co-pilot nodded.
He pointed at a screen and I leaned over his shoulder to look. Only a couple thousand kilometers away. We’d lucked out and gotten pretty close even accounting for the movement of that point over the years.
Jessups had wanted me along on the mission because I was the only person alive that knew how to get to the rock. That was true. But they would have still been able to do the mission without me. Just more difficult.
When we had escaped the last time in the borrowed Tiat ship, there were no navrecords we could use that showed the path well within the belt but we did have a record of the point I had exited the belt from. That gave us our starting point.
The real reason Jessups needed me was because I knew the layout of the facility on the rock. Or most of it. The Tiat had probably changed it and rebuilt the parts we had destroyed. But some knowledge was better than no knowledge.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said.
The pilot and co-pilot laughed. No one behind us did.
The thrusters kicked on and the drop shop made for the coordinates in the navcom.
I looked out the viewwindow, the ship orientated so the belt was above us. Or above to our relative location. In space direction was fairly meaningless. Up was someone else’s down and so on. But we still needed a fixed point of reference in order to function. Our minds couldn’t handle the concept of no direction. So we acted as if the directions were just like on the ground, using ourselves as the fixed point.
For us the asteroid belt was above us.
Jagged, uneven rocks of different shapes spun and moved. The rotation was opposite our travel so they appeared to be moving faster than they really were. For the most part they kept a constant distance. When one would break apart, as they were all bound to do eventually, the smaller pieces would go flying everywhere. Their own gravity so small compared to the larger masses that they would be sucked into those asteroid’s wells.
We could see some of the impacts, lots of smaller rocks and dust erupting into space, when those smaller ones slammed into the larger ones.
The asteroids gravity would push against the gravity of the ones around it, keeping the asteroids pretty much locked into place.
Which would help us to pilot our way through them.
“What happens to the freighter pilots,” I asked as we made our way to the entry point, my former exit point.
“The freighter was modified so the bridge was the escape pod,” the co-pilot, I hadn’t gotten his name yet, said. He didn’t look at me, just focused on his read-outs. As he should have. “It had a small one-hop engine. They were going to hop back into the Jeffern system where some Expeditionary Forces ships will meet them.”
I was glad to hear the pilots had a plan for getting out of Unitouro.
One-Hop engines were a relatively new technology. About ten years ago the Xertin had taken the standard hop engines, their design of course, and stripped it down. Only enough fuel and power to make a short hop, no more than six hours. Once used it was done. There was a lot of work involved in getting it operational again. Let alone the cost of the fuel. One-Hops burned a lot more of it.
At first no one could understand why there would be a need for such an engine but then someone in the military got ahold of the idea and adapted it.
History, not just Terran, is filled with such examples. Pretty much all species’ first thought, when seeing new technology, is how to convert it to military use. How to weaponize it.
It happened with the One-Hops. Each species sought to duplicate the Xertin tech, reverse engineer it and make it their own.
Terrans were the first to succeed.
The Xertin’s had intended it to be used for escape pods. Normally a pod would launch and you were at the mercy of the system. Your beacon would go out but if there was no one in ear shot, no one within the solar system, then you weren’t getting saved. The idea with the One-Hops was to give the people in the escape pods more of a chance. If you struck out in that system, hop to the next one over and try again.
Of course your life support would be halved, if not more, but the intent was at least noble.
The Earth Expeditionary Forc
es took the tech and used it for the purpose the Xertin intended. No escape pod that the 2Es commissioned was without a One-Hop drive. I wanted one on the Wind’s escape pod, which we still hadn’t gotten repaired, but the cost was so damn high. The 2Es could pay for it, but no one else could swing it.
They took it one step further and started wondering what would happen if you sent a One-Hop equipped ship in the other direction. Instead of being used for defense, saving a life or lives, why not use it for offense.
Send a bomb from a neighboring system to your target system.
No actual ships or personnel would be directly in harm’s way and it could inflict a lot of damage.
Take an idea meant to save lives and instead use it to take lives.
Typical 2Es.
*****
“You’re up,” the pilot said.
I hadn’t moved from the cockpit, standing there behind the pilot and co-pilot as they made their way to the entry point. I was watching the stars and the asteroids above us, thoughts turning to the last time I was here.
Focusing on the present I checked the readouts. We were there. The pilot shifted the ship so we were looking straight into the asteroid belt. It looked familiar and at the same time it didn’t. The rocks here were large, ship sized gaps between them.
The pilot undid his harness, standing up and sliding out of the way. He pointed at the seat.
“Figure I would get an argument over this,” I said strapping myself in. I held off from adjusting the seat. That would be going too far.
“Captain Yearly did tell us not to give you the stick,” the pilot said with a shrug. “But he’s not here so…”
Yearly should have known better. The mission always came first. Things like ego had to be put aside to succeed. All he had accomplished was lowering his standing to his men.
I put my hands on the controls, studying them, getting familiar with them. I’d never flown a drop ship before but it really wasn’t that different from a freighter.
Adjusting the thrusters we moved into the belt. The ship rocked, pushed by the gravity of the asteroids. I held the controls tight, keeping it from moving as much as possible. Once inside, rocks all around, what had appeared to be large gaps between them got much tighter.
The Tiat facility was not that deep inside the belt. It had to be close to the edge, or in this case the inner edge of the ring. Too deep in and it ran the risk of being too buried, too hard to get to.
Looking out the viewwindow, which I had used to navigate by the last time as well, I tried to find a landmark. I had to quickly determine if relative up was the same this trip as the last. If we came in with the wrong orientation we could end up going left when we had meant to go right.
Very easy to do.
Landmarks were hard to establish when all the possible choices were in constant rotation. There was no fixed point. With nothing to find, I just decided to wing it.
I remembered how deep in the facility was, how long it took to reach it. I knew the exit point I had taken. Most importantly, I knew how I flew.
Trying to escape a destroyed Tiat facility, I would have flown in as straight a line as possible.
With that in mind and my memories, I retraced the path I had flown over six years ago. Around asteroids, threading the needle between others, avoiding and swirling debris.
And found the facility in ten minutes.
The asteroid that we had nicknamed The Rock did not look different from all the others. Dark colored stone, rough and jagged, canyons and mountains off the surface. Nothing special.
Until it’s rotation revealed the facility.
It looked nothing like I remembered.
*****
The first time I had seen the building it had been two stories sticking above the surface of the rock. A wide space, no valleys or canyons, not mountains or hills. Just flat surfaces of stone with this gray building looking like the asteroid was trying to get rid of it but the building refused to go. It looked quickly built, barely attached to the asteroid.
When we had left, the facility had a large hole in the wall. Both floors were exposed to the atmosphere. We could see gases and liquids escaping and falling out of now exposed piping and ducts. Flames could be seen in the windows of some spaces. It had been damaged enough to no longer be able to be used.
We knew the secret location, the Tiat abandoned the facility. Until recently.
Now the building was vastly different. One much larger story. The buildings footprint had changed in size and scope. The walls were taller, lights only visible in one row of windows. There was a second story, much smaller, that rose out of the middle of the first. Walls were the same height and there were windows on all four sides, continuous glazing and frames.
Both stories, the walls were completely intact. Not a hint of damage was visible.
It had been rebuilt. Everything about it was new.
I turned the drop ship and brought it up close to the rocks, keeping as far from the facility as possible. No telling what kind of sensors it had.
This new facility seemed to be more important to the Tiat then the previous.
Getting up I gave the seat back to the pilot. My first part of this mission was done.
“Nice bit of flying,” he said strapping back in.
“Thanks,” I replied and made my way back to my original seat to strap back in.
“How’s it look,” Harrow asked.
“Like a Tiat facility,” I replied. Fortin laughed. Harrow just rolled her eyes.
I felt the ship pick up speed and pictured the flight in my mind. The pilot was bringing us around the asteroid, looking for the perfect insertion point.
Assault insertions were always tricky things. There were so many variables in play. An insertion on an asteroid was one of the hardest. A blind insertion was equally as hard, if not harder. Put the two together and it was near impossible to do successfully.
But we were going to try.
CHAPTER NINE
The pilot set the drop ship down on the blind side of the asteroid where it was protected from any Tiat scanners. There had only been a minimal amount of turbulence in the landing. The pilot, I later learned his name was Jack Warren, was good. Warren had put us as close to the facility as Harrow would allow him to risk it. Risk of detection versus length the team had to run. There was a sweet spot to find.
Once settled the team unstrapped ourselves and started suiting up. I’d been given a standard 2E assault suit which doubled as an enviro suit. The typical dark green, black trim and armor plating. Attached to our chest armor were oxygen tanks that plugged into small ports in the back of the armor. The Tiat breathed oxygen just like seventy-five percent of the galaxy. Some species had different mixes to their air, just slightly different enough to be unbreathable, but not the Tiat. It would be a little harder for us to breath, like we were at the top of a mountain, but nothing too difficult.
The tanks were for the run across the asteroid’s surface.
It had been a long time since I’d worn a full suit of armor and tanks. Had to shift it a bit to get the fit right. I hoped that it would start to feel familiar again. Fighting would be difficult enough if I wasn’t forced to compensate for the armor and suit.
At a command from Harrow, the co-pilot slid the door shut between hold and cockpit. I could hear the slight hiss as they environmentally sealed the door. Fortin and Gilbert were helping Treuto into his specialized suit. I’d seen an environmental suit on a Europan before. Tubes along the arms, body and legs connected to a tank that filtered a cold agent. Europans came from an ice moon, they needed cold. This suit had the tubes but also plates of armor for limited protection. The tactical vest he wore was larger, the tanks larger. No helmet, just a pair of goggles and special mask that went over the somewhat pointed face.
Watching them help with the suit made me realize that Treuto had not been wearing one before. None of the Europans on the station had been and the temperature there and the drop ship
had been Terran standard.
“Why didn’t he have an enviro suit before,” I asked Harrow.
“I thought Jessups had said you were pretty observant,” she replied sarcastically. I let it go. She did have a point. “Training and a new pill from some Earth corporation.”
That sounded interesting and potentially dangerous.
“It lowers their relative body temperature so it seems they are in an environment more friendly to their needs,” Harrow finished turning back to her preparation.
Whatever this pill was, it appeared to work pretty good. I just had to wonder at the future issues. Europans had never been a starfaring race. No great desire to get out and see the stars. A limiting factor had been their body’s need to be cold all the time. The young had gotten restless and started venturing out but it was very rare to see one beyond the Sol Station at the edge of the solar system.
“Helmet’s on,” Harrow said.
I had no more time for thinking about the Europans. The helmet was already connected to the tanks and I pulled it on, activating the seals. A slight hiss and pressure around my neck and I was breathing recirculated air filtered through the tanks. Lose the tanks or the tubes connecting the helmet, and I had maybe about a minute before I was dead.
Why did I sign up for this?
The helmets heads-up-display turned on and I got a lot of information at once. A lot to process. Had a graph showing how much oxygen I was using and how much was left. A read out with the rest of the team located and their levels. Lots of other information. I’d forgotten how much there was.
It took a lot of training to filter it out and concentrate on what you saw through the helmet’s visor. It was overwhelming at first.
Harrow had us line up and check the connections of the person in front of us. I noticed that I was put in front of the line and had no one to check, Harrow pulled double duty. I wasn’t bothered by that. They knew my history but also knew I would be rusty.