by AJ Vega
Chapter 28: Treasure Map
“Luck is the unseen attribute in a man that will save him when nothing else can.” It was a line he had lived by, one lectured by his father when he was growing up. Julius had since adopted it and preached it to his own children: the crew. Now, he had to follow his own teachings—and foster the luck in himself so that they could all get out of this alive.
A squadron of twelve Venusian strike craft were bearing down on the Sea Wolf; their payload: antimatter warhead tipped bombs. Even a single hit in the right spot could destroy the ship, even with their shields. Running with a single reactor, they did not have enough power to activate the weapons array to shoot down the fighters.
Mac and his squadron of three were all that stood in the way of a sudden end to the lives of their motley crew. A squadron of three fighters against twelve, heavily loaded bombers—he would need to dig deep for that luck.
“Wolf Squadron away,” Garval reported.
Julius fixated his attention on the screen. It was showing a view from the aft, where the action was taking place. The three Wolf Squadron fighters emerged from below the horizon, climbing up in a triangular formation. The points of their noses aimed at the incoming squadron of twelve bombers. The tactical overlay showed an intercept time of seventy-three seconds.
“How much time left to charge the capacitor?” Julius asked
“Five minutes, sir,” Jessen’s voice came back.
Julius glanced down at his navigation console. The Sea Wolf was headed away from the fighters toward the edge of the gravity well, using the Martian fleet as cover. But even at flank speed, they were still ten minutes away from the edge of its influence where they could safely jump out.
“Captain, look,” Ramey pointed to the screen.
A new contact appeared. It was an oblong-shaped craft headed toward the incoming bogeys. The screen zoomed in and showed a close-up of the ship—it was a shuttle.
“Stromond’s ship? Garval, who is flying that?”
“I don’t know, sir, it’s not any of the pilots,” Garval responded.
“Jared—make contact and find out who that is.”
“Aye, sir—one moment,” Jared said as he tapped a message on his console. He paused for a moment then shook his head. “They’re not responding. I tried forcing a hail on their console, but I think they turned it off.”
Julius traced the flight path and closing speed of the shuttle—it was trailing Mac’s squadron and probably was not much of a threat. Nevertheless, its presence concerned him.
“Warn Mac about the shuttle,” he ordered. “We do not know its intentions.”
“Aye, sir,” Jared said.
Julius noticed a confused look appear on his face. “What is it?”
“Something on the waves, sir. It’s a message to us. One moment …” He paused. “It’s been cut off by the UEP ships.”
“Who is it from?” Julius asked.
“Unknown—but it appears to be encrypted with our key,” Jared said.
Julius rubbed his chin. “That could only have come from a senior member of the crew: Murdock or… Laina. What did the message say?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but it was cut off right after the header packet. The message itself is missing.”
Perhaps Murdock and Laina got away somehow and were trying to get back to the Sea Wolf. Or they were captured and being forced to make contact with them under duress—either way, he was in no position to help.
“Is there any way you can trace the originator’s location?”
Jared was scrambling with the controls. “Maybe, sir—but it could take some time.”
“Do your best, Lieutenant.”
Julius refocused his attention to the main screen. The images zoomed into the fight behind them. Wolf Squadron had come into weapons range with the enemy squadron and was firing on them. A flare of explosions ignited within the enemy formation and a cluster of debris erupted from it. When the explosions subsided, ten of the Venusian bombers emerged from the aftermath.
Mac’s fighters were now behind the enemy and attempting to reconverge into formation for a follow-up attack, but the Venusian bombers’ speed was too great and they moved out of weapons range before they could reacquire. An alarm sounded on Ramey’s console.
“They’re locking bombs on us,” Ramey reported, his voice subdued.
It was the first time he had heard defeat in Ramey’s voice. This could very well be it for them. Julius had sealed their fate by locking down the shuttles; now they could not even abandon ship. However, he knew that to be captured by either the UEP or Confed was a fate worse than death, and the crew knew that as well. All of them had a registry of crimes that would guarantee them living out an eternity in a prison doing hard labor. An endless series of days that would be filled with agony—and not even a lifespan to end it.
For the first time, he noticed that the mysterious shuttle was headed directly toward the formation of Venusian ships. A sudden panic hit him—what if the relic was stolen and in that ship?
“Ramey—have security check Laina’s quarters. Make sure the cargo is still in there!”
“Uh… yes, sir,” Ramey fumbled.
“Captain,” Garval jumped in. “I’m picking up a weapons lock from the shuttle. It appears to be locking onto the—”
He stopped short as a beam of energy shot out from Stromond’s old shuttle toward the Venusian ships, catching two of them. They exploded, sending fragments into a third, which was knocked off course and began to drift away.
Seven bombers remained—the shuttle continued on a collision course toward them. A moment later came a brilliant explosion that engulfed the whole scene. Several seconds passed before any details could be discerned out of the debris that followed. After it cleared, the only fighters left were Wolf Squadron and a single Venusian bomber.
“What just happened?” Julius asked.
“I don’t know sir,” Ramey said. “But security reports that the cargo is still intact in Laina’s quarters.”
An alarm sounded on the bridge. “Incoming ordnance!” Ramey exclaimed.
Julius hit the ship intercom. “All crew—brace for impact!” his voice sounded across the ship.
The tactical showed a bomb released from the Venusian; impact would be in eight seconds. In the distance, Wolf Squadron was shooting wildly at the bomber. By some stroke of luck, some of it caught the ship and it exploded just as it was about to fire a second bomb. Wolf Squadron continued to fire at the remaining bomber, but it would be in vein. The bomb reached the Sea Wolf.
The screen was awash in white light and the ship buckled—the lights went out and the sound of metal beams crashing down could be heard. A crewmember yelled, and a fire erupted on one side of the bridge. The metallic smell of smoldering circuitry hung in the air. Julius coughed and tried to regain his senses. The lights on the bridge started to come back on and he could hear the emergency ventilation system sucking the smoke out.
He was alive—but how much longer? He looked around to survey the damage. Debris littered the bridge. Metal beams and pieces of instrumentation lay scattered about. A crewmember was lying on the ground, face down and covered in blood. Garval rushed to him and checked his vitals. Upon closer inspection, Julius realized it was Jared. A metal conduit was sticking through his torso and out of his back. Garval looked up at him and shook his head—Jared was dead.
Julius looked around and took note that the rest of the bridge crew, although battered, were alive.
“Status, Ramey?” Julius ordered.
Ramey brushed off debris from his console and began to operate it.
“Still trying to assess damage to hull. Structural integrity has been compromised on multiple decks—they have been sealed off by damage control. Shields are offline. Engines and main power are still functioning. Some minor damage to other systems—but nothing too serious. The capacitor is charged and ready for jump. We got lucky—it
appears the bomb exploded just prior to impact.”
“Lucky,” Julius said with a sigh. “But not without cost.”
He noticed a cloud of vapor that appeared in the center of the bridge. Just as he began to wonder why it had not been vented out, it began to thicken and flash with energy. His heart began to beat loudly in his ears and he held his breath—memories of the nanobot cloud from his dreams came to mind.
The cloud glowed with a spectrum of different colors and a form began to emerge from it. It was a short naked man, with a Mohawk haircut that was dyed purple. He dropped to his knees, looked around the bridge, and then vomited on the floor. He continued to cough for a moment before looking back up at Julius.
“Who are you?” Julius asked him.
“Hello,” he said in between coughs. “I’m Haylek. Chorus sent me.”
The bridge remained silent, everyone staring at Haylek dumbfounded.
Jessen’s voice came on the conference, interrupting the silence.
“Captain, I show we’re clear of the gravity well. We can jump now!”
“Garval, return to your station,” Julius began. “Tell our fighters to jump home.”
Julius stood up. “Get security to escort this intruder to holding, under guard. Get him some clothes.”
He began to make his way off the bridge.
“Wait!” Haylek said, coughing. “We need to talk.”
“I’ll deal with you later. Ramey, take over and jump us home—time for me to meet with this Martian diplomat.”