Captain Quinn Bracken

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Captain Quinn Bracken Page 2

by Frank Carey


  "What are you saying?"

  "Just be you. The rest will take care of itself... We've arrived on-station."

  Quinn punched a standard search-pattern into the NAVComp. "You do know I'm in here," Stan said.

  "Yeah, but your memory isn't what it used to be."

  "Harrumph."

  "Come on, Big Guy. Let's go find our target."

  ###

  Three hours later they had found nothing except for some large rocks. She parked the Valkyrie next to one of them, a nameless asteroid about twenty-kilometers long by ten wide. "What the plark am I missing?" Quinn asked as she checked the scanners and compared them to the communications system's direction finder. "Comm says it's here, but sensors say it isn't."

  "Quinn?"

  "Yes, Stan?"

  "Look out the port window. What do you see?"

  She looked. "A big rock?"

  "Pull your focus in and look again."

  She looked. Then looked again. "Nooooo. That's impossible."

  "What do you see?"

  "If I stare long enough, I would swear I'm looking at a reaction control system thruster quad, only this one is..."

  "Bigger than this ship. Running scans... Yep, those black deposits read as spent fuel. I think we found our target."

  The reaction control system is used to roll, yaw, and pitch a ship using small rockets called thrusters or reaction motors. There were four motors arranged at right angles to one another. Since this ship was a large asteroid, small motors scaled appropriately.

  Quinn activated the external spotlights as she piloted the Valkyrie around the outside of the asteroid ship. "There's another RCS quad," she said.

  "And we have visitors," Stan said as their spot illuminated a small freighter. Several figures ran into the ship and a nearby cave as they tried to hide from the light.

  "Smugglers," she said. "Space Patrol Actual, this is Wingnut. Have found target. It’s a spaceship disguised as an asteroid. We are investigating a smuggler ship on the surface. Sending data. Report ends. Wingnut out." She changed frequencies. "Unidentified ship, this is Space Patrol Captain Quinn Bracken on STARGUARD channel, please respond. Oh, and don't even think about shooting at me. I've got two space-to-surface missiles locked on you. Bracken standing by..."

  She waited, but not for long. "Space Patrol, this is Captain Rollin Brown in command of the Evelyn Bright out of Tralaska. Go away, we claim salvage rights to this derelict."

  "Wonderful," Quinn muttered. She thumbed her mic switch. "Captain Brown, please transmit salvage permits and licenses."

  The silence was deafening.

  "Enough bullshit, Captain. I'm coming down. Quinn out." She changed vectors and headed toward a spot near the freighter.

  "Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Stan asked.

  "We'll be fine, just you keep hidden until I call for you."

  "Works for me."

  The landing was uneventful. After Quinn exited the Valkyrie, she made sure the landing claws were secure before walking over to where a group of smugglers stood waiting. "I'm Bracken; which one of you is Captain Brown?"

  "He's inside," a burly one replied. Quinn couldn't tell their species or gender through the thick space suits. "Follow me."

  "Careful there, Lady," Stan noted over the SAC. "He's a little too obliging."

  "How the hell do you know he's a he?"

  "A guy knows. Be careful."

  "Yes, Mother."

  Quinn was led inside the cave where a tall space-suited figure waited for her. "I'm Captain Brown. What can we do for you, Captain Bracken?"

  "Show me your permits, and while you're at it, how about we do a safety inspection of your ship and site?"

  "You can't do that!"

  "Regulation 2055-3-14B/22 says I can. A member of Space Patrol can, at their discretion, perform a safety inspection of any ship found within their patrol sector. You are inside my patrol sector, so show me your permits, then we can get down to business."

  The captain nodded to his people. Several weapons appeared, each pointed at Quinn. "Will these do?" he asked.

  People ran in from outside followed by a frantic Alue. "Close the plarking door!" Stan yelled as he and one of the smugglers pushed the large metal door shut. Quinn ran over and pressed the seal button just as the floor of the cave began to buck, throwing everyone willy-nilly. Quinn grabbed Stan and ran out of the room through a doorway at the back of the cave. They found themselves in a long corridor, so they picked a direction and ran.

  "OK, stop!" Stan wheezed after several minutes of running. "No one's following us."

  "Wuss," Quinn replied more than a little out of breath. "Why didn't I think they would pull weapons?"

  "Don't beat yourself up. You're alive. Next time..."

  "You mean the next time we try to inspect a shipload of smugglers stealing an asteroid-sized alien spaceship?"

  "Yeah. Next time, you'll know better."

  "I hate you."

  "Hate you more."

  Quinn looked around. "Any of this look familiar?"

  "Oddly, yes, though I just can't put my finger on it. We Alue share memories with our ancestors, so one of mine must have been in a ship like this one. It'll come to me."

  "What happened out there?"

  "We parked on top of a communication antenna port cover. I got off the Valkyrie just as it and the smuggler ship were thrown into space."

  "How big is the antenna?"

  "At least 100 meters. It was still emerging when I ran in."

  "Shit!"

  "Tell me about it. You do know our comms can't reach Tralaska from this distance."

  She nodded. "This tub's got to have a control room. We need to find it."

  "And I was worried you'd go and do something sensible like hide."

  She rolled her eyes, then pointed down the corridor away from where they left the smugglers. "Move."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Captain Brown was able to regain his feet as the shaking subsided. Ignoring his crew, he stabbed a button on his communicator which should have tied him into the Bright's main computer, but all he got was a null-connection light. He tried again but got the same result. Fuming, he handed the device to his second in command, an Alturan named Francine. "I can't raise the ship."

  She looked to heaven with two of her eyes while using the third to check the device. "Ah, I see the problem," she said.

  "Can you fix it?"

  "Nope." She handed the unit back to him. On its display was an image of a rolling star field with an occasional glance at a large asteroid.

  "What am I looking at?" a vexed Captain Brown inquired.

  "The feed from the security camera in the aft airlock. It seems the Bright has been thrown into space by something or someone."

  The captain glared at the infernal machine. "Wait, what was that?"

  She took the comm from him and twiddled a button. "That looks like what's left of a Space Patrol ship, probably the Valkyrie."

  Brown rubbed his cheeks with his palms. "Francine, are you telling me that we're trapped aboard this derelict?"

  "Kinda sucks, doesn't it. At least we have company."

  Brown gave her a quizzical look.

  "You do remember the young Space Patrol captain you and the rest of us aimed our weapons at? The one who piloted the Valkyrie?"

  "Shit! Look, we panicked..."

  "Sweetie, this is Francine you're talking to. We thought we could off her, then hide the body. You know this; we know this, so cut the bullshit. Right now, we need to find her."

  "What do you mean find her? She's right... Where the hell is she?" He was greeted by nothing but the shrugged shoulders of the clueless crew.

  "Hmmm, she's gone. Imagine that. A woman and an Alue running off rather than dying at the hands of over a dozen armed smugglers. Who would have thought?"

  "Everyone! Drop what you’re doing and find the two Space Patrol officers."

  "You forgot something," Francine whispered. />
  "No, I didn't."

  "You forgot to tell your crew what to do when they find our missing Space Patrol pilots."

  "Oh. Yeah. Right. Listen up! Find them and bring them to me unharmed. I'll space anyone who hurts them. Now, MOVE!"

  ###

  At the Space Patrol Command Center on Sienna, alarms sounded as Tango-2 officially entered the system. "Report!" Nyquist ordered.

  "Tango-2 is underway," the tracking officer reported. "She's picking up speed... Steadying up at 0.8c."

  "How long until it gets here?"

  "Five and a half hours, sir"

  "Any signal from the Valkyrie?"

  "No, sir. Valkyrie's beacon is dead. No EPIRB signal from pilot or copilot."

  "Identify Copilot."

  "Stanley, call sign Aardvark."

  "Stan's one of the most experienced pilots in the Patrol... Alert Star Guard and vector them to Valkyrie's last known position. Meanwhile, monitor Tango-1 and Tango-2. Communications Officer, get Space Command on the horn, priority one!"

  "Aye, commander! Sir, Commander Turlock is on the line."

  "Transmit all data pertaining to Tango-1 and Tango-2. Turlock, this is Nystrom. We've got a problem here."

  "I can see that, old friend," the Sandaaran commander replied. "We've dispatched four cruisers and two battle wagons to Tralaska. ETA thirteen hours, mark!"

  "Thanks. What about the Tralaskans?"

  "Tell them, but impress upon them the need for caution. We don't know what we're dealing with."

  "Aye, sir."

  "Good luck to all of us. Space Command out."

  "Comm, get me Star Guard command, then the Tralaskan Ministry of defense. It's time to get this party rolling while we still have time."

  "Aye, sir."

  ###

  Quinn and Stan headed up a gangway in their search for the asteroid's control center. "Stan, stop! There has to be a better way..." A panel next Quinn lit up with rapidly changing symbols.

  Stan stared at the display with his black Alue eyes--the stuff of Earth legends of invaders from space--while tilting his head first to one side, then the other.

  "What?"

  "This ship is coming alive, and I recognize the language it speaks."

  "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?" she pointed out while scanning the corridor they had just come from. "And do hurry, we've got several smugglers closing on our position."

  "It's Logash."

  She stared at him in shock. "How can the Logash have a ship this old?"

  It was now Stan's turn to look at her in shock. "Did you sleep during history class at the academy?"

  "If you must pry..."

  "My God... My people destroyed the Logash two million years ago during one of our expansion periods. Just before we attacked, they sent out hundreds of seed ships, each containing the DNA of countless Logash species including their own. They're the reason so many League species are genetically compatible."

  "The Alue destroyed a species?"

  "We destroyed hundreds of them as we searched for advanced computer networks in which we could breed. Earth and the League almost became a statistic but for the efforts of Ambassador Lucien Irithyl. He saved my people and the League by introducing us to the InterWeb-in-a-box."

  "Wow. So, this asteroid is a seed ship?"

  "I think so. The one hanging out by Trala must work in tandem with this one in case the planet isn't quite ready for seeding. None of this makes sense. According to Agendor, the ships dropped genetic material which fused with existing lifeforms to include the Logash genetics into the indigent DNA map. He never mentioned terraforming."

  "Who's Agendor?"

  "Honestly, what did you do during the history lectures?"

  She returned a weak smile complete with shrug.

  Stan shook his head in disbelief. "Agendor headed the seed ship project. Only by the grace of God was he and his family unit able to escape the destruction of their home world. Fortunately for us, their stasis tubes kept them alive until they were found in one of the Cube's tombs."

  "You met the guy who built this?"

  "Yeah, at a lecture on cross-species procreation. I met him and his family's alpha female, Rutile. Brilliant researcher; clueless husband."

  Quinn stopped talking while just staring at the screen. "What's up, Captain?"

  "What happens if these ships try to terraform Tralaska?"

  It was Stan's turn to stare in horror. "We need to contact the control center and fast."

  "I was afraid you were going to say that. She looked at her scanner and saw the others approaching. "First things first. We need to slow our friends down..."

  Stan placed his hand on the display. Quinn watched as it merged with the glass screen. The pattern of symbols shifted as lights in the corridor flashed around them. Without warning, the hatch between them and the smugglers closed and sealed. She felt her suit shift as the air pressure rose around her. "I've bought us some time," Stan said as he removed his hand from the display. "I've closed all emergency bulkheads between here and the cave, but it won't take them long to get past the encryption. The computer system is primitive at best."

  "What about the control room?"

  "Three decks up, two-thousand meters straight ahead."

  More lights flashed, this time accompanied by klaxons. Stan touched the screen. "Dammit, intruder control has been activated."

  "Can you deactivate it?" Quinn asked while retracting her helmet.

  "Not a chance. We need to move."

  A nightmare of metal tentacles dropped from the ceiling to the floor, then reared up in a threat display. The two pilots pulled out their weapons and destroyed the bot. Quinn grabbed her comm and activated it. "Captain Brown, this is Captain Bracken on STARGUARD channel. Do you copy? Over."

  "Cap, we need to get going!" Stan reminded her.

  "I know, dammit! Brown, answer the damn call!"

  "What the hell have you done, Bracken? I've got people trapped between bulkheads."

  "Stan, open the doors between Brown's people and the cave. Captain, the ship's security systems are activated, and I think they're hunting all of us. Get your people back to the cave and barricade the door."

  "Bullshit, Bracken. You just don't want us to find you."

  "Cap, the doors are open."

  "Your call, Brown. Bracken out." She looked at Stan. "Let's move."

  "Finally!" he said as they lit out in the direction of the control room, leaving the smugglers to whatever fate they had chosen for themselves.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Two hours and several dozen destroyed sentry bots later, Quinn and Stanley were almost to the control room when they were attacked once more by bots, two of them this time. As they had done with the others, the two space patrol officers raised their weapons and fired. Stan's let loose with a blaster pulse, destroying his bot. Quinn fired, but her weapon malfunctioned--in effect, it jammed--leaving her defenseless. Seeing this, Stan fired once more, but his weapon's power pack was dead, so he reached over, grabbed a handful of the bot's tentacles and used them to swing it into a wall with enough force to destroy it. He dropped the remains on the deck before checking his weapon. "Pack's dead, and I'm out of spares."

  "Thanks for the assist, buddy." Quinn checked her weapon. "Firing chamber is toast," she said. She removed the weapon's power pack and handed it to Stan. "Last one, and it only has a few shots left."

  "Just remember: grab a fist-full of tentacles, then swing for the fence."

  "What fence?"

  "Ever play baseball?"

  "What's baseball?"

  He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm taking you to a game the moment we get back to base. Earth may have invented the game, but the Tralaskans have honed to a high art form." He looked over her shoulder. "Enough of this planning. We're here, so let's make the best of the situation," he said while pointing at a doorway down the corridor.

  They ran ov
er and found the door surrounded by red flashing lights. "That's not good, is it?" Quinn asked.

  Stan put his hand on the display. "Shit. Seal your suit; I'm taking the corridor to vacuum," he said. She complied as the nearby bulkheads sealed. Satisfied, he opened the door. Inside was a scene from a car wreck. Sitting in the middle of the wrecked control room was the remains of a large meteor. Chunks of rock broken loose from the impact had shredded the equipment inside the room. Stan walked over and patted a chunk of rubble. "And here we have the communications system."

  They left the room, closed the door, then re-pressurized the corridor. "Well that sucks," Quinn said.

  "Tell me about it," Stan said. "We're trapped inside a big rock while being hunted by angry bots. Oh, and did I mention the angry smugglers?"

  "You worry too much. Space Patrol is aware of the situation, and they'll send a rescue party when we don't report in. It's not like we're going anywhere." Their comms beeped. Quinn activated hers. "Go for Bracken,"

  "Thank God! This is Commander Nystrom. Sitrep!"

  "Valkyrie and smuggler's ship destroyed. Stan and I are unharmed. Ship's intruder system activated. Condition of smugglers unknown. Sir, we found the ship's control room, but it's been destroyed by meteor impact."

  "Switch to encrypted channel." Quinn pressed a button which changed to an encrypted frequency. "Captain, you have to find a way to take control of that ship. It's a little over two hours away from Tralaska. We think it's rendezvousing with the terraformer ship we found near Trala."

  "Sir, this is Stan. This ship is a Logash seed ship."

  There was silence from command.

  "Sir, did you receive that? This is a Logash seed ship."

  "Copy that, Lieutenant. Stand by."

  "He sounds worried," Quinn said, "Like I am."

  "The safety of over five billion Tralaskans will do that to you."

  "I'm worried about one human. Ali is down there waiting to go to dinner with me." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small case. Inside was an engagement ring which she showed to Stan. "It's supposed to be a surprise."

  "You do know you don't need to arrive in an asteroid space ship to impress her."

  Quinn cuffed him.

  "Quinn? This is Nystrom."

  "We're here, sir."

 

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