HeartStorm (HeartFast Series Book 3)

by Mooney, Linda

  “Sounds like the woman’s got a plan,” Challenger dryly remarked. Hunter agreed.

  “All right. But to be on the safe side, I suggest we all put on our space suits just in case. Assume all risks.”

  A smile burst out across Sender’s face, and she relaxed her grip. “Assume all risks.”

  It was the Guardian’s new credo, adopted soon after Hunter and the rest returned from the wormhole. From that moment, Deceiver declared that no mission would take place until every Guardian took every precaution first, no matter how unusual or petty it sounded. And that included everyone donning their suits to venture out into space. Including Hunter and StarLight, who normally needed no gear while in the void.

  Once they donned their suits, Hunter stood behind Sender as the ship neared the third moon. She watched the computer readouts, waiting for a low enough dip in the storm to show itself on the screen, while Challenger kept Three out of possible harm’s way.

  “I’m feeding these readings into my suit so I can keep track on our way down,” she told him, her fingers flying over the console keyboard. “All right. We’re set.”

  “Will that feed follow us all the way down to the surface?”

  “I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out. Hold on. This looks like one,” she murmured into her helmet mic. “Hold it. Let me verify.”

  Hunter remained tense. His arms went around the woman’s slender waist, when the thought suddenly crossed his mind. He hadn’t held another woman like this in years, other than StarLight. And in recent months, his embrace had been impeded by her enlarging stomach as she got nearer to giving birth.

  “We got it! Hunter, let’s g—”

  Before the last word was out of her mouth, he popped them out of the transport and followed the homing signal visible on his suit’s transponder.

  It was like traveling inside a rudderless capsule at the mercy of the stars. The sound of the storm filled their ears with a high-pitched whine, drowning out all other noise. They were buffeted like a bubble inside a wind tunnel, and it took every effort for Hunter to keep them on course. Without asking her to do so, Sender yelled out the readings.

  “Four twenty-seven urgs! Four fifty-nine urgs! Four seventy-eight urgs!”

  He could feel a tingling sensation invading the aura around them and into his suit. It crawled over his skin like a low frequency electric current that gradually began to burn into his muscles. Gritting his teeth, he powered through the rising wave of ions, pressing for speed.

  A split second later, they were hovering inside the crashed ship. Sender gasped at its sudden appearance. “Whoo! What a ride!” She laughed. “You should charge admission. You’d make a mint!”

  “Is it safe for us to emerge?” Hunter asked. His head continued to ring from the silence surrounding them. Inside the suit, every inch of his body itched. The need to scratch was unbearable.

  “Uhh, yeah. It’s just under a hundred urgs here.”

  “What about outside?”

  He watched as she paused. She finally shook her head. “I can’t get anything beyond the hull. Guess the storm’s messing with the readings, or the ship is damping them.”

  Once Hunter released his aura, he let go of her. She stepped away from him as their suits automatically turned on their external lights inside the totally dark interior. The place was empty.

  “Well, they said they’d lost all power.” He checked his outer temperature gauge. Minus two hundred. It was damn cold. On the positive side, however, the itch was subsiding.

  Sender walked around their confines. “This looks like some kind of trawler.”

  “If it is, it would explain why the storm can’t penetrate the hull. Trawlers are built to withstand any outside interference.”

  “Why is that?” Sender asked.

  “Because of the cargo they could be carrying. In the event they encounter some sort of phenomena that could set off or destroy their payload, the hulls are built to counteract, or in some cases reflect, the effect.”

  “We’re inside a cargo bay, then?”

  “We’re inside the first place I could find that was big enough to hold us. But, yeah, it looks like an empty cargo bay.” Hunter pointed toward an inner hatch. “Let’s go see if we can find its crew.”

  Sender opened the hatch. Hunter remained within arm’s distance of the petite woman in the event they encountered something life-threatening. He may not be able to pop them out of the ship, but at least he could take her to another section that was more safe.

  Sender turned on her outer mic. “Hello? We’re the Guardians. We’re here to rescue you.”

  Hunter picked up a thin piece of metal tubing and began hammering on the wall. The booming sound echoed with a thunderous roll. Once the noise died away, they waited to see if they could detect anything that would indicate someone was heading their way, but they heard nothing.

  “Let’s keep going,” Hunter suggested. “They could be camping out in a different part of the ship.”

  “What part is the question. This is a big momma of a ship!” Sender quipped.

  They continued down a long corridor. Hunter mentally mapped the interior as he tried to get some idea as to the makeup of the trawler. If memory served him correct regarding what he’d learned in the past about these heavy load carriers, the bridge should be one level up from the bay. But in this instance, there was no telling how badly the ship had been damaged in the crash. Its whole infrastructure could be different.

  They came upon a ladder and a narrow interconnecting tube running vertically next to it. Sender took a step toward the tube when he grabbed her belt and pulled her away.

  “If the power’s out, the tube would be a straight plunge into the bowels of the ship. That could be a thirty or forty meter drop. We take the ladder.”

  “Which way?”

  “Up.”

  She paused a moment, then looked back at him. “Why don’t you pop into that invisible bubble of yours and go seek out where these people are? It would save us some time.”

  He had already thought about it, but their too-close encounter with the storm had affected his internal gyroscope, and he told her, “I could accidentally venture back outside the ship without knowing it until I was ripped out of my shield.”

  “How long do you think it’ll be before your gizmo is running correctly?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. So, in the meantime, we keep searching.”

  Nodding, Sender began climbing.

  It was fifteen minutes later when they came to a hatch. Sender paused in front of the portal as she scanned it. “This section shows a rise in temperature.”

  “It could be our survivors,” he surmised. Stepping in front of her, he pounded on the door and opened his external mic. “Open up! Guardian Command! Hello?”

  The hatch opened inwardly a few inches, and a helmet with a dark visor peered around the corner. The man appeared to focus on the glowing G emblazoned above Hunter’s left breast.

  Hunter smiled. “You called for a taxi?”

  “Oh, thank the gods!” the person exclaimed. He pulled the hatch away, allowing Hunter and Sender to step inside. Immediately, they were surrounded by three more men. Everyone wore their suits, including their helmets. One gray haired man with a weathered face stepped up to Hunter.

  “I’m Fio Toreedus. I called in the emergency.”

  “I’m Master Hunter. This is Sender. You said there were six of you?” Hunter was happy to note that Sender kept her helmet on without having to be told. Apparently, the sight of everyone still wearing theirs was enough warning.

  Toreedus gestured at a far wall. “Two of us were injured in the crash. Majurco has a crushed leg, but Dablinitun was thrown across his cabin. He fell against the edge of a console, and he has massive internal bleeding. We don’t dare take off our suits because of the temperature, or else we’d treat him in our medic lab.”

  Hunter understood. Medical couldn’t treat anyone while they were encapsulated within
a suit. If they took the man out of his protective gear, he’d instantly freeze to death.

  “It’s minus one hundred sixteen in here,” Sender noted aloud.

  “Yeah, but it’s negative two hundred fifty outside, and still dropping,” Toreedus countered.

  “Can you tell us what happened? What caused you to crash?”

  “We picked up a load of rhonidirum from Segarii 4. We were to drop it off on Calasi.”

  “The factory planet?” Sender clarified.

  Toreedus nodded. “Yes.”

  “You’re a bit off course,” Hunter noted.

  The ship’s captain sighed loudly. “We got caught up in a cosmic whirlpool. Came from out of nowhere. We never saw it approaching. We tried to break free of it, but the frekking thing dragged us all the way out here before it dissipated. We barely got the engines back online when this storm swallowed us. Shredded our relays. Knocked our engines into tomorrow.” He shook his head at the memory. “We’re lucky to be alive.”

  “Once we get you away from here, where do we need to take you?”

  “I’m sorry, but we have no idea how far we’re off the route. Our base is in the Ge Horca system.”

  “Ge Horca is eighteen clicks from here, but the Stellar Police Force has a sector base in this quadrant. We need to get your injured crew to their medical bay. From there, they can escort you to Ge Horca.”

  “We would be grateful,” Toreedus answered.

  Hunter called up to Three. “Challenger, can you read?”

  There was no answer.

  “Challenger? Can you read me?”

  The comm remained silent.

  “It could be the storm,” Sender suggested.

  “You can use our telecom,” Toreedus offered. “It’ll punch through.”

  Hunter remembered how quickly the homing beacon had appeared after they had arrived. He gave the man an inquisitive stare. “How are you able to communicate off-planet when we can’t?” he asked. It was difficult to believe that an old tug like the trawler would have better state-of-the-art equipment.

  Toreedus hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Wooly, our engineer. Kid’s a genius when it comes to electronics. He somehow rigged a transponder together from spare parts.”

  “Wooly?” Hunter repeated.

  Another man stepped forward and raised his hand. He was short and had a thin face, but his eyes were large and luminous. “That would be me,” he volunteered. “Name’s Wooly. I’m also the communications officer. I sort of jury rigged the signal.”

  “Jury rigged? How so?”

  Toreedus chuckled. “He hooked it up to the engines.”

  “Whaaat?” Sender’s disbelief echoed his own.

  The slightly-built man blushed. “The comm is being powered through our engines.”

  “I thought your engines were off-line,” Hunter commented.

  “Oh, they are,” Wooly hurried to assure him. “One of them was destroyed in the crash, which is why we’re stranded here. But the power cells that feed the engines are still charged.” He gave a little, self-deprecating shrug. “I found a way to siphon energy from the cells into the comm links, and thus boost the signal.”

  “Smart! But why didn’t you do the same for your life support system?”

  “I tried, but the relays were too damaged from the crash. I tried to re-route them, but the storm got too strong before I could finish.” He held his hands out at his sides. “The thickest insulation is in this part of the ship. We figured it would be the safest place to camp out and wait for help to arrive.”

  Hunter gave the man a wry grin. “Remind me to introduce you to Commander. He’s our systems analyst and technical expert. I’m sure he would love to discuss this with you.”

  Sender spoke up. “Show me where your comm board is so I can call up to our ship.”

  Wooly gestured for her to follow him, and the two exited the small cabin.

  “Where are we in the ship?” Hunter asked Toreedus.

  “The aft cargo bay, near the rear galley. The bridge is another floor up, on the opposite end of the ship. But forget about going up there. It got torn up upon landing. Listen, how soon do you think we can leave here?” Toreedus inquired.

  “As soon as Sender checks the readouts on the storm. As soon as it’s safe enough, I’ll take your wounded man back to Three. That way I can provide a duct for Sender to transport the rest of you in my wake.”

  “That could be hours.”

  Hunter nodded. “It’s possible. This storm is moving like a wave. It has its peaks and its troughs. The moment we find the next trough, I’m gone.”

  “Hunter?” Sender’s voice came through his helmet’s internal mic.

  “Yeah?”

  “We got a couple of problems.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  “First off, Challenger says we’re facing a major crest in this storm. Upward to a thousand urgs and climbing.”

  “A thousand urgs?” Hunter repeated.

  “This ship can handle it,” Toreedus remarked.

  “What’s the other problem?” Hunter continued.

  “Umm…Deceiver contacted the ship. Star’s gone into labor.”

  Chapter Five

  Callaura

  Wooly jumped up from his seat at the comm as Hunter hurried into the cabin. Parking himself in the makeshift chair, Hunter stared at the cobbled board that the ingenious little man had created. There was no screen, just a myriad mishmash of dials, switches, and buttons. There was no way he could make any sense of the mess, and he felt his panic increase.

  Star was having the baby. He wasn’t there, and he’d promised he would be at her side during the delivery.

  “How…how do I…”

  A hand poked him in the shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Wooly holding a connector. “I haven’t the faintest idea where you could put that,” Hunter grimly admitted.

  “Not a problem,” the little man said. “May I?”

  At Hunter’s nod, the engineer hunched over and examined the lower elements of Hunter’s helmet. “Ah! I think this is it. Hold on.” There was a slight bump under Hunter’s right ear, and faint voices came through his earpieces. His visor lit up with a blue-white haze that threw dizzying patterns of lights into his retinas. Unconsciously, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

  “Master Hunter?” Wooly took his hands. Or, at least he thought it was Wooly. It was difficult to tell with the hiss and ghostly voices filling his ears. His gloves were placed on top of the comm board. “Use this knob with your left hand to adjust the visual input. The right for volume. Sorry, but I can’t make it any clearer with this crap growing over us. You’re already hooked into Guardian Command. Hopefully they can do some fine tuning on their end.”

  “Sender, can you see this?” Hunter inquired, knowing the woman was nearby.

  “No. No sound or sight, but that’s all right. Fill me in later.” Although she sounded disappointed, he got the impression she understood his need for flying solo.

  He experimented turning the visual knob until the light finally coalesced into shadowy figures. The voices became more distinct, almost to the point where he thought he could make out the words. Amping up the volume, he tried to call in. “Hello? Guardian Command?”

  Deceiver answered roughly seven seconds later because of the spacial distance between the moon and Synaria. Through the speakers his voice sounded scratchy, but the signal was strong enough to keep him from being cut out.

  “Guardian Command. This is Deceiver.”

  “Deceiver, this is Hunter. How well do you read me?”

  “Hunter! Like someone spit on your relay. Challenger says the storm intensified beyond your ability to return the survivors to the ship.”

  Hunter bit his lip. At the moment, his mind was on StarLight, but he was still on duty, which meant a mission status update had priority.

  “We have no idea how long it’ll be before it lessens to the point where I can take up the first surv
ivor.” Again, he hesitated. There was no sense in adding to the Guardian leader’s stress level by saying there was a critically injured man awaiting adequate medical treatment. If the miner survived, it would be a miracle.

  “The moment we get a break, I’ll return to the ship, and Sender will transport the remaining crew aboard Three.”

  “Good. Challenger will continue to keep me abreast of the situation. Uhh, Hunter, hold on. I’m transferring you over to the clinic.” He didn’t ask if Hunter knew of Star’s situation. He didn’t have to.

  “Hey, can you get Commander to see if he can’t get rid of some of this static so I can get a clearer picture?”

  “Will do. Hold on.”

  The fuzzy image darkened. Silence filled his earphones. Seconds passed, and with every heartbeat, Hunter’s anxiety grew.

  “Hello? Star? Doctor Perlakian?”

  A shriek nearly punctured his eardrums, and Hunter twirled the knob to lessen the volume.

  “You’re doing fine, Terrin. Keep breathing. Keep oxygenating yourself. Fire, what’s the water temp?”

  “Ninety-three degrees.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Doctor Perlakian!” Hunter shouted. He had no way of knowing if they could hear him. His inner viewscreen was black, but at least he could hear them.

  “Who is that?” Devorah asked, either of someone in the room, or directly to him.

  However, StarLight immediately recognized his voice. “Udo! Udo, where are you?”

  “I’m still on Sigma Vialla,” he called back. “We’re unable to leave until this storm lessens in intensity. Forgive me for not being there with you. What happened? Did something happen? I thought you weren’t due for another few weeks.”

  “Babies have their own timetable, Hunter,” Perlakian commented with a very discernable dry wit.

  Another cry punctuated the airwave. This time Hunter knew Star was the one making the sounds.

  “Terrin, are you all right? Is the baby all right? Doctor Perlakian, what’s her status?”

  “My status is I’m having a baby!” Star yelled back with agitation.