"Quite the ship, wouldn't you say, lad?" commented McClary from below.
Ryan looked down at him, a broad smile across his face. "She's a beauty –a real work of art. I thought your shift was done, McClary?"
"That it is, Commander, but you know me. I've heard we were having a wee bit of trouble with the hydroponics area. I was just about to amble over there and take a look. We have a lot of work to do if we are going to fit the thousands we intend into this vessel."
He gave a quick wave-solute and headed out. "I'll be seeing you, Commander."
Ryan walked back to the main command area, which was situated just in front of the navigation globe. Three seats were positioned there, the one in the center designated for the captain. Sitting down, he found it quite comfortable. He noticed pull-down restraints could be locked into place on each side – just in case of a bumpy ride. A large, slanted viewscreen was directly overhead, which provided a view to the majority of the bridge crew. His chair had quite a few controls on its arms, on which he noted a small light was blinking. He guessed it to be communications. He pressed the button and Tmaurau's face came on the viewscreen above.
"Commander, I see you have found your place."
Ryan chuckled. Tmaurau’s sense of humor was very dry.
"How are things going down in engineering?"
"We are ready to run a number of tests on the main drives, but the capacitors are extremely depleted. It will take days to charge them to adequate levels."
"I guess once we start moving this crate, it'll charge a little quicker, right?"
"Yes. But we need to establish a minimum charge in order to engage the drive."
“Ah, yes, the infamous catch-22. How about siphoning off power from our ship's reserves?"
"We already anticipated that course of action. It will require some coordination on both ends, but the connections can be established easily."
He glanced over to his second officer. "Kanook, can you work with Tmaurau on this? I want to be mobile ASAP.”
Kanook nodded acknowledgment.
“Tmaurau, Kanook is going to give you a hand. Get this crate moving.”
A couple technicians had started work on the navigation holographic. Ryan went down and joined them.
No time like the present to get his hands dirty.
About an hour later, a number of Signites came up from engineering hauling heavily insulated coupling cables. Their job was to link up the Signite capacitors to the main power circuit running through the mothership. The only way to do that was hardwire it directly.
* * *
On board the Dancing Queen Aviore was also very busy. The adjustments to the tracing scanners had taken longer than expected. Mistakes had cost her precious time and contributed to an increasing frustration. She felt a sense of urgency, and her tendency of rushing had set her back even further. She had to force herself to calm down, do things carefully, methodically.
Upon completing the enhancement, she triggered the tracing scanners to start. The scan process literally crawled down the ship's length. She sat back in the co-pilot's chair and watched the readout.
Nothing so far. The bridge area and front section of the ship were fine.
The beam moved steadily, passing further down its length. Suddenly there was a slight blip, a small aberration. Aviore's heart jumped. She backed the sensor beam back over. There it was again!
She called Ryan via the vaskpar.
He answered on the mothership's communications channel.
"What's up?"
"I've got a signal on the sensors!"
"What kind of signal?"
"I modified the sensor beam circuit for a certain type of scan."
"You modified the circuit? Why?"
"I needed to enhance the scan… Wait a second. Gem, impose the ship's structural layout onto the sensor coordinates and determine where that reading is originating.”
Ryan waited patiently.
"The tracing source can be located within one of the mothership's medical quarantine bays," reported Gem, a second later.
"Well, great work. Looks like you found a way to pinpoint these creatures. Don’t worry about that one, it’s dead. So you did the modifications yourself?" Ryan was genuinely impressed.
“I did - pretty good of me if I do say so myself.”
He laughed. "Do me a favor and scan the other ships. I want to know if there are any more of these things around here."
"What about the mothership?"
"We already checked it out. Do the others and let me know if you find anything."
"But…"
The monitor went blank.
"Uhhhhhhg! Damn it!" she cursed loudly.
She slammed the release key. The scan resumed.
Why didn't he ever listen to her?
She felt a familiar growl in her stomach and marched out of the cockpit, headed for the galley. Food would settle her down, maybe a sandwich.
Gem interrupted her as she took her first bite.
"Would you like to see the scan results?" she asked politely.
"Of course," she mumbled, mouth full.
The display came on the main monitor. She dropped her sandwich.
The vaskpar! She tried, but she couldn't concentrate.
Don’t panic!
She yelled, “Gem! Get Ryan, hurry!"
She had to stay calm and concentrate.
Ryan saw the incoming communications signal blipping on his chair. He was halfway down the steps to the lower level, so he decided to route it through the monitor below. The walkway was cluttered with old consoles and rubbish that the repair crews were moving out - damage caused by the thing.
Then he heard, no felt her on the vaskpar. "Ryan! It's in the bay. The thing is in the bay!"
Ryan hit the communications, not to answer Aviore, but to reach engineering.
Tmaurau answered. "Hello, Commander."
"It's in one of the bays. Aren't your boys headed down there?"
"It? The creature? Yes. They are, I'll..."
Suddenly Ryan heard the screaming. Then the sound of a train coming, barrelling down the tracks. He glanced up to see a hatch fly through the air. A blur was in the room. An engineer flew into pieces before him. Something told him to dive. He jumped between two consoles. It was right behind him. He felt the heat, felt a tug on his leg.
Everything turned to slow motion.
It was above him hammering down at him, but couldn’t reach him. He was lying on a jagged piece of metal. He twisted and grabbed a sheared piece of decking.
Kill it.
He shoved upwards and the shrapnel sunk into its belly. A thick rancid fume engulfed him, he gasped for air.
It was off him, going crazy, jumping across the room, denting a bulkhead, demolishing a console. It spun in circles, a blur of motion, trying to free the jagged piece of metal lodged within its belly. The room filled with the sound of hummingbird wings amplified a thousand times. Waves of heat carried through the air, rippling in intensity. Then it raced down the corridor.
Ryan looked down at his leg. It had a large gash, seemed to be all the way to the bone, but surprisingly, he couldn’t feel it. Was he in shock?
Two meters in front of him was the turbo shaft. He had to move before it came back. He pulled himself along the floor, his left leg useless.
He slammed the button and pulled himself through.
He was in!
The door started closing. Behind him, a wind howled and searing waves of heat melted consoles together. Its screaming almost burst his eardrums.
His blaster!
He yanked the weapon from his holster.
He could see it turn, head toward the closing door.
The turbo shuttle started moving, gaining speed.
Then came a loud crash, and a tremendous shaking.
It was in the shaft with him now, but the shuttle was leaving it behind, clipping along at a fantastic rate, but he knew this line would end, sooner than he wanted.
And it was after him alright. It didn’t like the little present he had given.
He remembered the Ancients’ warship, the men in the cargo bay.
He would eject the sonofabitch!
The medical lab would be his only chance. He wouldn't have time to get any further before it caught him. He reset the destination. In seconds the shuttle decelerated. He could hear it coming in the distance, like a freight train.
Down the corridor and to the left to the medical lab.
He forced himself onto his feet, fighting back a wave of nausea, and hopped, as much as jumped, with his good leg, leaving behind a trail of blood.
A loud thud echoed behind him. It had reached the shuttle and was forcing its way in through it. Ear piercing screams filled the corridors in all directions.
He glanced back but dared not stop.
It was stuck.
Ryan laughed crazily. He was scared to death and moving as fast as he could. His chest was on fire. His heart pounded painfully.
Turn to the left.
The lab!
He dragged his bad leg through and pressed a button to lock the hatch door. As the door closed a shrill screaming pierced through the bulkhead.
Little time left.
He stepped in and to see the doctor and the science officer standing there, dumbfounded.
"What the hell is going on out there?"
"Do you have any envirosuits?"
"Yes. One in the locker."
"Give it to me and seal yourself in that other room, NOW!"
The science officer grabbed the suit. His face was pale. "There’s another one coming down the hall isn't there!" He looked at Ryan, saw the large gash in his leg, looked down at the suit and then into the quarantine room. His eyes went wide with realization.
"Bullshit, Commander! Doc, grab him and lock yourselves in there – and seal it!”
The doctor grabbed him and pulled him back into the small storage room.
“Let me go.”
The shrieking stopped.
“Oh shit,” Ryan said. “It’s heard us.”
The doctor slammed the door shut, and they peered out the tiny window.
The young officer calmly keyed in the override for the evacuation sequence.
It hit the door with a tremendous crash. The metal bulged under the strain but didn’t give. The medical hatch was reinforced alloy, triple the strength of the other hatches. It bought the young man precious seconds. Instead of reaching for his helmet, he coolly finished entering the sequence as the hatch door’s metal twisted and screeched under unfathomable stress. In one movement the officer snapped a salute to them and pressed the button.
Remnants of the door flew in all directions. A dark blur screamed past, crashing through the lab door and into the quarantine room, which was already decompressing. Equipment and papers followed the shadow, sucked through the opening, destined to the vacuum of space.
It was gone.
Sirens began to sound throughout. Hatches closed automatically, emergency doors sealed. A small whistle started in the upper seal of the door, but it was holding.
Ryan leaned back against the wall, shaking visibly.
It was gone and had taken a brave man with it.
He heard Aviore on the vaskpar. She had been trying to reach him all this time. He answered back and he could feel her relief.
Then everything turned to black.
* * *
The doctor worked furiously to stop the bleeding. He had less than a minute before his patient bled out. He tied the leg off with a tourniquet and yanked the suture kit down from the shelf. With shaking hands, he stitched the artery together and loosened the tourniquet.
It held.
He pulled the muscles together and wrapped them closed with sutures and compression bandages.
It was done.
He collapsed against the door, unable to stop shaking.
Ryan fought against the blackness, pushing through to consciousness, ignoring the nausea and pain and the black veil that tried to envelop him. Everything around him seemed distant, surreal. The heaviness and pain in his chest had faded, but his leg was afire.
The doctor was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, hands burying his head. He was sobbing quietly.
"He was a good man," Ryan whispered.
"He was my son."
* * *
Due to the decompression, it took some time for the emergency teams to reach them and re-establish atmosphere. The doctor had kept a vigil over Ryan, but despite his efforts, the Commander was unconscious, suffering from loss of blood. Kanook picked him up and carried him back to the Dancing Queen, where Aviore waited.
After the event, everyone worked to save as many as possible. It had killed a total of 138 and seriously injured another 22.
Ryan was bedridden for days while Aviore watched over him with deep concern. His manner was different, withdrawn. Something had changed within him. She was worried – but not about his leg.
He gained his strength back quickly, all the time remaining quiet and withdrawn. Once he was able to stand, he requested Ziggy to fabricate a walking stick for him. Aviore pleaded for him to continue resting, but Ryan would have none of it. He called on his captains to meet.
They waited for him in the corridor of the mothership. They would accompany him to the bay where It had hidden for so long - the bay with the door that had failed to open. The engineers had unwittingly opened the wrong door by mistake. They were the first to be killed.
This time, when the door to the bay opened there were no more surprises. Everything had been thoroughly searched and secured.
Kanook triggered the lights.
The sight before them was worse than they could have imagined. Heaped in piles on the floor lay the bones of thousands.
Victims of It.
The air stank of rancidity. Ryan covered his mouth with a handkerchief and limped out towards the center of the bay. All around him was death. It reminded him of his past - of the boy suspended in the brush, with his chest blasted away.
McClary stated quietly. "You know, Commander, we could all be among these bones now if you hadn't acted so fast."
Others nodded their agreement.
Ryan didn’t need to hear that. He could only feel the pain. He could only see the face of that brave science officer so coolly saluting him. “I need you to leave me alone... all of you."
They filed out silently.
“And close it on your way out,” he called after them.
Kanook ensured the door closed, turned to guard the entrance.
Ryan went down on one knee, then the other, and leaned against his walking stick.
“Why?” he yelled.
God wouldn’t answer him. He knew that much. Maybe God wasn’t out here, in the cold of space.
He knelt in the room of pain and wept.
He would carry this pain with him for a long time.
Kanook waited patiently by the door. Hours passed before the Commander reappeared. His first order was to seal the door.
No one was to disturb the dead.
The damage was repaired. Equipment rebuilt. Systems brought online. Within days the mothership was ready to move. Any other ships that were functional were repaired and put into formation. Others that had potential were docked within the bays or put in tow.
Thanks to Aviore’s adapted scanner, they were able to expose another ship with the genetic weapon aboard. Ryan personally destroyed the vessel. The ship was not worth the risk.
He leaned back in the command chair, with McClary on his right, and Kanook on his left.
The fleet was ready to return back through the Maskaffa.
As they passed through they held a funeral service. A military procession moved through the ship, to end at the bay. Ryan said a few words for all the lost souls, and signaled three troops to fire three times.
The service was over but for one final action. The bay was pressurized to double atmosphere, and the doors open
ed. Their remains floated out to become part of the universe once again.
The convoy moved out of the grasp of the spider, its poison no longer lethal. A collection of almost one hundred ships in total turned and headed back to a cold, desolate planetoid of ice.
* * *
15. Freedom
T he mothership hadn’t moved for a thousand years. Problems were to be expected. The ship’s main drive started behaving erratically soon after they left the Maskaffa.
Ryan ordered the fleet to a full stop. The technicians estimated 24 to 32 hours to complete the repairs. It was a costly delay, but it was also an opportunity. So many details needed to be sorted out. Crew issues were paramount, such as overall organization, assignments of roles and responsibilities, coordinating specific training by post.
This would all get worked out soon enough, Ryan knew. However, there was an even bigger issue, and it worried him. The ship's defensive capabilities were, as yet, unknown and untested. Until they worked the details, they were fully exposed. That was not a good situation to be in during a war.
Ryan pulled the captains, officers and group leaders together and laid out the priorities all too clearly: Get the weapons systems online and supported by a fully-trained crew.
The main cannon, mounted on the tips of each wing, were the first to be assessed. They were gargantuan devices, with diameters no less than 10 meters and lengths spanning the full depth of each wing. Such sheer size implied an unparalleled capability of incredible destruction.
The first of the firing tests were performed at low energy to ensure no power surges would feedback and destroy the complex array of ancient components. Unfortunately, regardless of this extra caution, they did just that. The energies involved, even at a low level, presented so much stress on the aged equipment that a mid-relay station within the main power conduit in the left wing literally disintegrated, rendering two port cannon useless. One of the starboard cannon suffered minor damage after its cooling system malfunctioned, which revealed that the cooling systems for all the cannon needed complete overhauls.
This ship remained adrift, main drive disabled, with only one functioning cannon, crippled and vulnerable.
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