Slaver Wars 1: Moon Wreck

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Not a lot,” Jason reported as he walked several feet down the corridor in the direction of the closed hatch.

  Greg stepped into the corridor and looked around. He felt a little lightheaded as he realized that he was inside an alien spaceship. The corridor was about twelve feet high and nearly ten feet wide. The only light was coming from the bright lights on their spacesuits. He recalled several of the horror movies he had seen as a kid about what could happen on alien spacecraft. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Those old movies never ended well. He took several deep breaths and calmed back down. He wasn’t a kid anymore.

  “Let’s go down this corridor and check some of those other doors,” suggested Jason, gesturing toward the sealed hatch in the distance. “I want to at least go to that hatch and see if it will open.”

  Greg followed Jason slowly down the corridor. Reaching the first doorway, they found the heavy metal door fully open, exposing the contents of the room. Looking inside, Jason saw several large pieces of strange equipment against the walls. The equipment was covered with numerous dials and switches and what looked like some type of computer screens. All the computer screens looked to be busted, probably from the impact of the crash.

  “Nothing much in here,” commented Greg, trying to imagine the type of beings that might have once worked in this room. He also was relieved to see that there were no bodies.

  “Let’s go on to the closed hatch,” Jason suggested. He was afraid it was going to take them too long to find the transmitter. They only had so much air and power in their suits before they would have to return to the rover.

  The two walked down to the sealed hatch and looked down at the large handle in the center. Reaching forward, Jason grasped the handle and pulled. Nothing happened. Jason spent a minute examining the hatch and decided that it did indeed open toward him. This made sense if this was a pressure hatch since there was an airlock behind them. Jason put his hands on the handle again and tried to turn it, but it still refused to budge.

  “Let’s both try,” Greg suggested.

  Greg moved up until he was standing next to Jason, put his hands on the large handle, and then they both tried to turn it. Nothing! It didn’t budge any at all.

  “It’s not moving,” Greg muttered, disappointed. “Now what do we do?”

  Greg suspected the radio transmitter was somewhere on the other side of this hatch. If he wanted to get back home to his wife and son, they had to find a way around it.

  Jason stepped back and looked at the large hatch, wondering what to do next. This seemed to be the only viable exit from this corridor. “We have to get through this hatch,” he spoke determinedly. Turning to face Greg, he continued. “As much as I hate to say it, we need to return to the rover and go back to the lander. We’re going to need a few tools to get in. We also need to find some way to get the rover to the wreck. With its oxygen recycling system, it will give us the time we need to explore this ship. As big as this thing is, it may take us a while to find the transmitter.”

  “If it’s in a part of the ship we can even get to,” Greg added worriedly, recalling the tangled wreckage at the other end of the corridor.

  He knew that if it was in the wrecked section, they might not be able to get to it. Their faint hope of being rescued would be dashed. Greg tried not to think about what that would mean. He had a wife and infant son to get back to down on Earth.

  The two turned and made their way back down the corridor to the airlock. They walked most of the way in silence. They had a long trip ahead of them back to the lunar lander.

  -

  The next day, they were back at the obstructing hatch. They had gotten a good night’s rest and loaded up what tools they had available to them on the rover. Jason had spent some time examining the maps they had of the lunar surface. He had found what appeared to be a lower section of the ridge. If the map was correct, they should be able to cross the ridge safely in that location. It had taken an extra two hours, but the rover was now parked next to the open airlock.

  They had brought with them a small mallet and what looked like a short piece of metal pipe. They had found the four-foot length of pipe in the wreckage scattered about the ship.

  Using the pipe as a lever, Jason and Greg tried to force the hatch handle to move. At first it resisted, then it moved an inch.

  “It’s moving,” Greg grunted as he put even more effort into forcing the hatch handle to open. For another moment, it refused to move, and then the handle suddenly seemed to quit resisting and turned all the way.

  “That’s it,” Jason spoke as he slowly pulled on the handle and the hatch began to open.

  Jason pulled the hatch completely open until it touched the corridor wall. They had brought a powerful portable light with them from the lander. Jason shined the light down the corridor. There was another metal hatch, but in front of the hatch it looked as if the corridor turned and went deeper into the ship.

  Stepping through the now open hatch, the two slowly walked down the corridor. Occasionally they would stop and glance into rooms with open doors. There were several doors, which were still shut and wouldn’t open. Inside the rooms with open doors, more mysterious equipment and even large crates were visible. In every room, there were signs of damage. There was equipment broken loose from the walls, shattered computer screens, even some evidence of fires.

  “At least we haven’t found any bodies yet,” Greg muttered as they went deeper into the ship.

  Occasionally Jason would stop and mark the metal wall. He was using a rock they had found on the lunar surface to place an x and an arrow indicating the way back out. They had found several more hatches but so far, all had been open.

  “What does this remind you of?” asked Greg, coming to a stop at a flight of stairs that led upward. Something had been haunting the back of his mind for several minutes now. The stairs looked like something you would find on a modern naval ship.

  “A navy ship,” replied Jason, looking in surprise at the stairs. “To be more precise, a navy warship.”

  “Exactly,” responded Greg, nodding his head. “All those indentations and small hatches in the outer hull, I bet there are weapon emplacements behind them. That’s why the hull is so thick and there are so many pressure hatches in the corridors. This is a ship of war!”

  Jason was silent for a long moment. He realized that Greg might be right. If he was, then what did that mean for Earth? The universe might be a much more dangerous place than one might have imagined.

  “Whoever manned this ship was human like in size,” commented Jason pointing at the stairs. “They must have been very similar to us.”

  “That’s comforting to know,” Greg replied. He still hoped they didn’t come across any alien bodies.

  Jason stood for a moment at the base of the stairs. He put one foot cautiously on the first step. “Let’s go up to the next level. We need to find the Command Center.”

  They carefully climbed to the next level. It was not an easy job in their bulky spacesuits. Reaching it, they found several more large, open hatches in front of them.

  Something on the wall drew his attention. Looking closer, Jason saw what looked like writing. Walking over to it, he looked in amazement at a map of the ship. There were several maps displayed. On the first map, there was a round dot in a corridor. Jason guessed this was an indication of their current position. The next two maps were for the levels directly above them. Looking carefully at all three maps, he saw nothing that indicated a Command Center or a communications center. He wasn’t sure he would recognize such if he saw it.

  “We need to go up higher,” Jason reported after studying the maps for another moment. Jason could see another set of stairs a little bit farther down the corridor they were now in.

  For the next thirty minutes, they continued to climb up into the heart of the ship. They were encountering less damage as they moved closer to the center.

  “If this is a ship of war, the Command C
enter would be located in the most protected spot,” Greg pointed out as they finished climbing another set of stairs.

  “The center,” Jason responded. He had been thinking about that possibility himself. Jason stopped and looked at the three new maps on the wall. On the second map, everything seemed to lead to one general area.

  “This might be it,” spoke Jason, putting his gloved finger on the spot.

  Jason sure hoped it was for Greg’s sake. He had promised his friend he would get him home. Only by finding and shutting down that transmitter was it possible. The front section of this ship was so large it would take days for them to search it. Having to drive back and forth from the lunar lander to the wreck would make that almost impossible.

  Climbing up to the next level, Jason checked the map and then indicated for Greg to follow him. They were both becoming tired from their exertions. Following the corridor, they finally came to a large sealed hatch.

  “Is this it?” asked Greg, breathing heavily.

  “I think so,” replied Jason, putting his hand on the handle and praying that it would open.

  Jason grasped the handle firmly and turned. Much to his surprise it turned easily, and the massive hatch swung inward. This hatch was twice as thick as the others.

  “Said the spider to the fly,” Greg mumbled over his suit radio.

  “If there were any spiders here, they’re long dead,” Jason responded as he stepped inside and shined his light around.

  The room he was in was obviously a Command Center of some kind. The walls were covered with instruments and viewscreens. There were consoles with chairs in front of them. In the center of the room was an upraised console, where possibly the ship’s commander and his second in command would have sat.

  “This is it!” Greg said excitedly, looking around. “The transmitter has to be here somewhere!”

  “Turn your suit lights off,” Jason ordered. He turned his off as well as the portable light.

  Greg did as ordered and looked around the darkened room. There were numerous dim lights glowing feebly on several consoles.

  Neither of the two noticed that behind them, the massive hatch they had just come through slowly swung shut and sealed itself. A sensor in the Command Center had detected human life forms. Following an ancient program, it slowly began activating the ship’s AI.

  Jason turned his light back on and slowly swung it around the room. He froze when he saw the hatch behind them was closed.

  “How did that happen?” Greg asked, bewildered. If neither Jason nor he had shut the hatch, then how the hell was it now closed?

  Jason suddenly had the creepy feeling that they were no longer alone in the ship. He stepped back over to the hatch and was about to grasp the handle when the lights in the Command Center began to blink on, one by one. He stopped in mid motion and turned back around.

  “What’s going on?” asked Greg, suddenly wishing he were back at the rover. He was beginning to feel as if he was in one of those old science fiction horror movies.

  “I don’t know,” replied Jason, thinking furiously. “We must have activated something when we opened the hatch to the Command Center.”

  A light began flashing on Greg’s wrist where a small sensor pad was located. It was used to show breathable atmosphere in the airlock of the lunar lander. “Jason, I’m showing a breathable atmosphere in here now.”

  “What, that’s impossible!” exclaimed Jason, walking over and looking at the sensor on Greg’s wrist.

  “Nevertheless, it’s true,” replied Greg, looking around the Command Center nervously. He had a sinking feeling that they were no longer in control of the situation. All they needed now was for one of the alien crew to make an appearance.

  Jason stood perfectly still for a moment and then reached a decision. He slowly reached for the hasps that would allow him to remove his helmet.

  “Jason, what are you doing?” spoke Greg, frantically realizing what Jason intended.

  “I’m taking my helmet off,” Jason responded as his hands found the two outer clasps and popped them open.

  Once they were unfastened, there was one more inner hasp he had to undo. Hesitantly, he reached for it and slowly popped it open. Then, taking his helmet with both hands, he twisted it and it came loose. Jason tensed, then relaxed as nothing happened. He slowly took his helmet off and stood in the alien Command Center, breathing the air. It was a little cold in the room, but other than that, the air seemed just fine.

  “Are you okay?” Greg asked with concern in his voice. He couldn’t believe that Jason had risked his life like that. He didn’t know what he would have done if something had happened to Jason.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” replied Jason, taking a deep breath. The air seemed fresh and perfectly normal.

  “Well, I guess we know now that these aliens breathed an Earth normal atmosphere,” Greg stated as he began reaching for his own helmet fastenings.

  Jason stepped over and helped him. Soon both of them had their helmets off. They both turned off their suits' air to conserve it. They would need it later when they left the Command Center, assuming they could find some way out. Right now, the internal atmosphere would be holding the hatch securely shut. For the moment, they were trapped inside this room.

  Jason saw another open door on the far side of the Command Center. He walked over toward it and glanced curiously inside. He froze at the sight in front of him. “Greg, you need to come over here! You have to see this!”

  Greg came over and stood next to Jason looking into the small room. It looked like a small office with a large desk on the far side. However, what was shocking was what was sitting in the large, comfortable chair behind the desk.

  “That’s a human!” Greg cried in shock. “How is that possible?”

  Jason gazed at the body sitting in the chair. It was mummified, but there was no doubt that it was indeed a human. “It must be the ship’s commander,” Jason guessed. “We haven’t seen any other bodies anywhere. I would guess there was indeed a rescue mission that found the ship. They left the commander here for some reason.” Jason reached out and pulled the open door closed behind them. The commander of the ship could rest in peace. They were not going to bother him.

  “Sprk, crackle, cmdr, crackle, Earth,” suddenly came from a speaker somewhere in the Command Center. “Human, crackle, recu, here,” the strange voice continued.

  “What is that?” asked Greg, looking around trying to find where the voice was coming from. It sounded artificial, like one of the voice programs on a computer or phone. He wondered what else they had activated by coming into the Command Center.

  “I am crackle, ship’s compteer,” the voice said unclearly.

  “We need to talk more,” Jason said in sudden understanding. “I think it’s trying to learn our language.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Jason and Greg talked about everything they could think of. They even walked around the room pointing to different objects and speaking their Earth names.

  Then suddenly, for the first time, the voice spoke clearly.

  “Ship’s status report follows.

  Life support operational in Command Center only.

  Sublight drive is offline.

  FTL drive is off line.

  Weapon systems are offline.

  Long-range communications are offline.

  Emergency beacon has been activated.

  Main power sources are offline.

  Emergency power is at .05 percent.”

  “Stop,” ordered Jason, hoping the computer would obey him.

  “Ship’s status report stopped,” the voice replied obediently.

  “Emergency beacon,” repeated Greg, looking over at Jason with renewed hope in his eyes. “That’s what we want to turn off. It must be the source of the interference.”

  “Computer, turn off the emergency beacon,” Jason ordered. He waited for a moment, but all that met his ears was silence. He looked over at Greg and then tried again. “Comp
uter, turn off the emergency beacon.”

  “Emergency beacon will not turn off,” the voice replied. “Damaged circuits are not allowing the necessary commands to reach the beacon.”

  “Crap,” Greg muttered. “Now what do we do?”

  “Computer, where is the emergency beacon located?” asked Jason, wondering about their next move. The logical thing would be to locate the emergency beacon and turn it off manually.

  “Deck seven, section four, communications room two,” the voice responded. “There is currently no viable access available to this area due to structural damage to the ship.”

  “What about from outside the ship?” Jason asked. If they could find a hatch close enough to the damaged area, perhaps they could gain access that way.

  “All access hatches have been sealed in that area and will not open due to a lack of power,” the voice responded.

  “Now what?” Greg asked worriedly. It sounded as if they couldn’t get to the beacon to shut it off.

  Jason stood next to the command console, thinking. They had come all this way, found an alien or human spaceship, and now were at an impasse because there was no way to shut down the beacon. He just felt as if he was missing something. However, what it was he couldn’t quite pin down. It seemed to be just at the edge of his mind.

  “I don’t know,” replied Jason, looking around the room. “There has to be some way to shut that beacon down.”

  Jason and Greg spent several minutes walking around the Command Center, examining the various consoles. They found navigation, propulsion, weapons, sensors, and various other stations they asked the computer to identify. They found nothing that would help them to shut the emergency beacon down.

  Jason asked the computer about the weapons the ship was armed with but was told in a polite voice that he didn’t have the proper security clearance to access those files.

  “Computer, why are you responding to my voice commands?” Jason asked.

  “You are human,” the computer replied.