Obsidian Ressurection

by T J Bryan

  Silvi waved her hand in front of Abel's face. It got his attention. She held up her hands and extended ten fingers, closed her fists, and then held up four more. Then she shook her head and made a slicing motion at her throat. It was the universal motion of death. Abel knew they had only fourteen minutes of air.

  Silvi pulled Abel to his feet. Although Abel's head throbbed he responded. Silvi pointed to the closed hatch. Abel stumbled as he stood but Silvi steadied him and dragged him to the now sealed hatch. She leaned Abel up against the bulkhead wall. Able could now stand but he still felt he might fall again. Silvi reached for the yellow hatch actuator on the right side of the hatch. Nothing happened. Abel saw Silvi push hard and then again even harder. Still the hatch would not open. Somehow the pressure on the other side combined with the intense cold had sealed the hatch against its' actuator control. They were trapped and with only now about twelve minutes of air left between them.

  The fog slowly cleared from Abel's head and once again he saw Silvi ransacking locker compartment after compartment looking for anything that might open the hatch. The circular cargo bridge was small but it was entirely surrounded by compartments, cubby holes, and enclosed shelves. Moments later Silvi turned and removed her O2 bottle and reattached it to Abel. The she returned to her fanatic search for a way out. Abel managed to walk half a meter and began opening the lockers and cubby holes that Silvi had not yet reached. One cubby was full of manuals and hard copy papers. Another held a coffee urn and what must be coffee tablets and tea bags. Reaching for another locker he found it empty. About that time Silvi returned and reached for the O2 detached it and reattached it to her suit. By Abel's reckoning they had six minutes. If they could just find something to heat the hatch seals they might break the door open, but in a vacuum nothing would burn, even the papers and manuals he had found earlier.

  Abel glanced over his shoulder as he pulled another compartment open. Silvi was at a compartment full of pressure canisters and fuel cells. Abel looked back at the compartment he had just opened - empty. He moved to the next one, but felt Silvi's hand on his shoulder. Seemed a bit early for the bottle exchange, but as he turned Silvi waved a pressure container with some kind of electrical connector before his face. Hydrazine (N2H4) the pressure container said. Abel estimated perhaps two litres of the stuff which he knew was used for small fuel cells. Silvi strode to the hatch and banged the container against the bulkhead. Over and over she smashed the unit. Then the neck of the container fell away and its' control unit sparked as its' battery regulator shorted. The neck of the bottle began to burn and burn with a blinding yellow light. Silvi held the end of the bottle and pressed the flaming torch against the hatch seals. Round and round she went with the improvised torch. Able went to the hatch actuator and pushed it. Nothing. He pushed again, and again in a rhythmic punching motions. Sill nothing.

  Abel could see that the bottle was getting hot and Silvi could hardly hold on. Her Grayson ship suit gloves were turning black. Abel hit the actuator again. He felt his breathing begin to labor. A sure sign the oxygen was gone. Tunnel vision was beginning to set in and Abel knew he could not last a moment longer, but somehow he kept punching. Then darkness fell.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Jamon System - Collegium Hospital - Year 3245. July 24 ET: 01:15

  Abel tried to open his eyes, but his head hurt so bad he thought he would throw up.

  "Abel, open your eyes. Now!" It sounded like a voice shouted through a pillow. The sound was muffled.

  Abel forced his eyes open and immediately reacted to a blinding light in the left eye. He blinked but someone was holding his eyelid open and that someone did not seem to care if it hurt. They let go and then with equal discomfort they forced the other eye open and blinded it as well. After a moment Abel opened both eyes fully and a finger appeared before his nose.

  "Follow my finger. Don't turn your head." He could tell that the muffled voice was an order.

  "Well, he's going to be ok. The scan looks good. His hearing will be poor for about two weeks until his drums heal. But he's as good as he ever was."

  Abel was now capable of focusing his eyes. Standing above him and peering down into his face was Dr. Freydis Auber. She straightened up. "He will be fine."

  Abel looked about the room and realized he was in the Collegium Hospital. Next to him stood Dr. Freydis Auber, Chairman Victor Norlick, and Larry Nilllson.

  Victor spoke first. "Welcome back from the dead Admiral Abel. You were almost a goner, but you're simply too hard assed to die. At least too hard to die in a vacuum." Victor laughed.

  "What happened. Last I remember we were bashing on the hatch of the R76. Then I guess I passed out."

  Larry stepped forward. He seemed different, perhaps more assured of himself. "Yes you almost didn't make it. Captain Karrlson got that hatch open somehow, don't ask me how, and somehow with badly burned hands dragged you up to the supercargo area where she found more O2 bottles. Then she dragged you all the way to the highline. Must have hurt like hell with her hands all burnt. But she got you to the dock safe and now your in the hospital. Doc Freydis says your just fine. Your hearing is shot, but you'll be ok."

  Abel's immediate concern was Silvi. "How's Captain Karrlson. Where is she."

  Dr. Freydis responded, "She just got out of the doc-in-a-box she looks good. Hand restoration surgery is very complex and time consuming even for the doc-box. She was in for over an hour. Prognosis is 52% for the full recovery of the left hand and about 95% for the right. Give it a week or so followed by three weeks or so of hand exercises and she will be good to go. If the left hand continues to give problems we may have to operate again, but lets hope for the best."

  "When can I see her?" Abel asked.

  D. Freydis thought a moment. "Probably not for three days. We have her in an induced coma, it's critical she not move her hands and we could not take the chance that she might try. Now there is a set of hand exercise gloves that will flex her fingers as she sleeps, but it is best she remain otherwise motionless."

  Abel tried to sit up but his head began to throb and he fell back onto the pillow. Dr. Freydis looked Abel in the eyes and in her best bedside manner said, "Best you get a bit of sleep. You should be feeling better in a few hours and then you can return to your duties, but right now just rest"

  Abel closed his eyes and then opened them again remembering what Victor had said. Victor was about to leave the room with Larry in tow. Abel asked rather loudly given he could hardly hear himself and yelled, "What did you call me Victor?"

  Victor turned. "Your fired Abel. Your no longer Chief of ES. Your now the First Admiral of the Obsidian Commonwealth Navy." Victor burst out laughing as he exited the room Larry saluted and followed him out the door.

  ...

  Jamon System - SAR 1033 - Year 3245. August 1 ET: 12:15

  "I can't wait to get these dammed gloves off. Besides my fingers are itching and I can't scratch with them on."

  Abel, sitting across the mess table of the 1033 responded, "I can't hear you Captain Karrlson. Speak louder." Abel's hearing had returned to near normal and he was giving Silvi a hard time, that in afterthought she did not deserve.

  He decided to return to the first item on their agenda. "How is 1010. She has been here almost five days. How does she check out."

  "1010 is good to go. More deferred maintenance than on 1033 but yesterday it was all completed. Larry took her out this morning and did some extreme manoeuvres with the manoeuvring jets and the reaction engines. All seems fine. Haven't tested the gravity propulsion system yet. That can wait, but diagnostics on the GWP look good. How is the trainee selection going?"

  "Slow," he responded. Two slow. Were down to about 200 with a target of 100. We are not actually trying to select for a given position on the crew, but rather looking at intelligence, drive, general skills and the ability to work in a tight team. Astrogation is the exception of course."

  "Why not look for a given skill set rather than general
ability?"

  "I'm afraid if we did that then both Lennie and now Larry, who is proving to be a very capable pilot, would have been overlooked; actually rejected. Just a bunch of hot head risk taking teens. No it's best to cast a broad net. Then if they prove able we can sort them out into potential skill sets and ship's position."

  "Your probably right. I had little real respect for Larry but I tolerated him as Lennie's friend. But now that he has reached level eight and is a full ship's pilot I have changed my opinion. Larry has become a fine pilot and will eventually become a fine human being." Silvi smiled.

  "How about astrogation?" Silvi asked.

  "We have two and they seem qualified academically." Abel responded. "The question is how well they perform on a ship with all the boredom and chaos that always befalls a starship. They both started at the astrogation station in the combat training simulator and apparently they passed the basic skills test the simulator provided. Now they seem to be working problem sets presented by the system. It's been about a week and apparently the navigation questions are getting very difficult. The system keeps throwing curve balls into the mix. Some are quantum peculiarities no one anticipated, and others things like portal drift or momentary collapse. Then there is something called a gravimetric flux whatever that is."

  Silvi interrupted, "I read somewhere probably in the EG about gravimetric flux. It's caused by gravity waves. I know it sounds odd. But imagine a black hole like Obsidian crashing into another one even larger. When the collide and add their huge gravity wells together in a cataclysm the universe shakes. Literally. A gravity wave is formed by the collision and it travels across the galaxy and the entire universe as well."

  Abel thought a moment. "How often does this happen. The gravity wave?"

  "Probably all the time. Collisions are constant. The issue is how often a really big one is close enough to effect the portal or even flight under GWP. When ships went mysteriously missing in the old days insurance companies would not pay since they attributed the missing ship to an act of god. In other words a disruptive gravity wave that played hell with astrogation."

  Abel went to the next item on the agenda. "How about R76"

  "Still to cold to fully survey but Lennie has taken her out for short trips and although he calls her 'sluggish' he seems pleased with her performance. R76 is nowhere near as manoeuvrable as a SAR and about 20% slower with manoeuvring jets or reaction thrusters. There is just so much mass when fully loaded to move about and even her huge engine component can't move her like a SAR. The POO-P for R76 gives a maximum acceleration of abut 310 gravities. That put's her about 80% the speed of a SAR and on a par with the Greayson dreadnaughts which are about as massive. Empty she is a bit better, perhaps 350 gravities acceleration compared to the SAR's 400 or so. Empty she can keep up. But full is another matter. And as you know fleets tended to move as fast as their slowest ship."

  "When will she be warm enough?"

  "Helen says about another 10 days should do it. There is simply so much mass to reheat. Not only is R76 armed, but she is heavily armoured as well. Attacking enemies often single out freighters as both easy targets and critically needed to keep a distant station or planetary system viable. The armour adds enormously to the already massive mass. Heating it takes time."

  Abel stretched. "And now the critical question. Are we on time for our planned departure of 1033?"

  Silvi did not immediately respond. "We put a stake in the ground for the end of December. We might make it."

  "Might?"

  "Abel it is a big dangerous place out there beyond the first portal. On second thought it's almost as dangerous in the Jamon system, but if we have a problem here in the Jamon system we have support. Out there we will be alone. Really alone. And with the collapse of commerce and the descent of The Dark there are no active shipping lanes where one might find succour in an emergency. We will be totally alone."

  "So you will make the end of December."

  Silvi frowned and waited a moment, "Yes. We will be ready. Damn these hands itch."

  Abel and Silvi covered a dozen more agenda items in descending importance. The last one being an Executive Committee recommendation that the Commonwealth Obsidian Navy adopt the ranking system and the traditions in use by the something called the 'French Navy' from pre-Diaspora days. Abel told the Executive Committee to pound sand. Well not exactly. But Abel as First Fleet Admiral simply said 'No.'

  "I have given the question of ranks and traditions a lot of thought and I reject for the time being any rank system. Each person on a ship has a skill and a task to perform. As a full crewmember that person is to know more about that duty than anyone else. To be subordinate in that task to another person who may well be totally ignorant of that skill and how it is performed is just stupid. I am adamantly opposed to a formal ranking system. However a ship does have a Captain and the Captain's skill above all others is command of the ship. So in some sense there is a rank; the Captain and the crew."

  Abel thought a moment, "The Encyclopaedia Gallectica if full of examples of slave or conscript armies in deep trenches, cannon fodder they called it, ruled over by simple minded overseers who mindlessly obeyed orders from even less intelligent officers who remained behind lines and lived a life of wine, women, and gout, while the slave conscripts died by the millions, all following orders without question from those of a higher rank. Further the more troops an incompetent killed the more medals and citations he received. We won't adopt a system like that of mindless slaves serving even more mindless fat and stupid generals. No. Not in the new Commonwealth Obsidian Navy. We have a chance here Siliv to not repeat the traditions of the past which led only to death of millions and ultimate defeat. Life here in our system is too precious to sacrifice on the alter of false authority under the guise of a military ranking system."

  He continued after a moment, "As for traditions we should establish our own and not import a false set of traditions and titles from an long ago dead civilization. Let's have our own Obsidian Navy traditions starting now."

  Silvi laughed. Well we already have one."

  "Oh?" responded Abel.

  "Yes. Admirals wear white shorts, and pilots wear yellow. Only Lennie and Larry wear yellow shorts. You didn't notice."

  Abel thought for a moment. "Good idea. That way you know what function any crew member plays. Not bad. Oh, and by the way white shorts show the stains first." Abel laughed.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Jamon System - Collegium Annex - Year 3245. August 15 ET: 11:12

  Silvia had declared every seventh day a day off for the crew of the 1033. Working the crew 7 days a week was likely to result in foolish errors and potential damage to either crew or ship. However work went on and on this day Silvi and Abel had chosen to visit the CTS in the Collegium Annex and directly observe the trainee crews at work. They had arrived just before the shift change at noon and entered the instructor's station to observe three crews working to master the command cons. Their collective assessment was that the crews had a long long way to go if they were ever to pass simulator certification requirements. Two of the stations had trainee crews for the five critical stations; Pilot, Weapons, Defence, MS, and EM. The Captain's chair was empty as was the astrogator's seat. They intended to fill those positions later when they more fully understood the skills of the trainee pool. However, both acknowledged that the likelihood of finding a Captain among the youthful trainees was slight. Both Silvi and Abel knew, but had yet to openly discuss, that the only reasonable candidates for these position were Emmitt and Helen. Both knew the ship and had the maturity to command a vessel out into The Dark. The challenge would be how to break the news to them that a return to academia was not possible at this time. Better to wait and see both thought.

  In the third training station, while a trainee crew of five practiced on the simulator, Taylor Schmidtt sat working the astrogation station.

  Silvi asked "How is Schmidtt doing? Has he advanced beyond the testin
g phase?"

  "Schmidtt is doing well so far. Got beyond the astrogation tests last week, just a day behind Dilli. They are both advancing at about the same pace and the outlook for our having two qualified astrogators is high. I only wish we had a few more. It's a demanding position. Our pilots face equal demands but they are action oriented and react in real time to fly the ship. The astrogator sits, plans, considers all the risks, optimizes the ships course, sets the progression of the ship, and sits down to await either a successful passage or disaster. The toll on the nerves is different. I sometimes think that pilots like Lennie aren't nervous because they are too busy flying the ship."

  Silvi laughed. "Let me assure you Lennie or for that matter any decent pilot gets very nervous. But it's before they sit in the chair and then after. You're right about action and flying. The more intense the flying the less time for self doubt. Reaction in real time is the immediate need. There is no time to analyze or contemplate the next flight move. One just reacts and relies upon training and some kind of natural pilots instinct to carry through. Both Lennie and Larry have that kind of focus."

  "Yes, and that's what we must find in our new pilots.

  "Silvi looked carefully at the monitoring station for the pilot trainees in booth two. "That's Rod Galindo. Rod is a distant cousin. My distant aunt's husband was a Galindo from Girots. They were a farming family, but she wanted to learn hydraulic engineering in order to work the aqueducts and dams they have been building for the last two centuries. So she studied hard and came here on exchange to the Collegium. Well as often happens at the Collegium she met uncle Tovar. The result was Rod. A good kid." She paused a moment to look up from the monitor to take a long look at Rod and then returned her gaze to the evaluation screen.