Spinward Fringe Broadcast 5: Fracture

by Randolph Lalonde

  “This is the Cold Reaver. We see it Sergeant. The Clever Dream is currently engaged in the field and we've come under fire. There was a squad hidden somewhere nearby, we've closed off the ship entrances but can't leave.”

  Victor looked at his squad status summary and at the devastated storehouse all around him. It looked like something had come along and bombed the hell out of the place. Whole stacks of crates had been reduced to rubble, the floor was cratered, unidentifiable debris was scattered about and two large hatchways had been completely bowed and twisted. The area couldn't be secured, especially without reinforcements. His squad status screen told him that Alaka had taken a head injury and only seven of his people were mobile.

  He looked towards the field medic software installed in all their vacsuits and hesitated for a moment. It was set to treat and preserve. The next urgency level would treat everyone using reconstructive nanobots, taking more risks. If it worked they might be back up to nineteen able boarding troops. With the fighter squadrons busy, the Clever Dream engaged, the Cold Reaver pinned down and the Triton outside of the barrier there was no way to get reinforcements.

  An idea struck him. “Have you been able to communicate with the survivors barricaded inside?” He asked the Cold Reaver.

  “No, as far as we can tell they've got life support and that's about it. There's also an EMP shield in place, looks jury rigged and over powered so there's no getting a signal through.”

  “An EMP shield? That's pretty high tech for a jury rigged solution. All right, stand by Cold Reaver.” Victor selected the two most critically injured squad members and exempted them from nanobot treatment. “All right everyone, grab onto something, I'm enabling nanobots. We'll be back and fit in no time.” He glanced at the activation icon and elevated the automedic software's urgency level.

  Nanobots were released into the bloodstreams of every injured soldier at once.

  “Oh God that's just weird. I'm watching my leg set itself, thank God for local anaesthetic,” Jenny said as she leaned against a half crushed crate.

  There were many similar sentiments and a few complaints as less anaesthetized injuries were repaired, causing furious itching and burning sensations as the technology did its job. He watched Alaka's life signs change as his head injury was treated with nanobots, anti-inflammatory and other medications. After a few seconds the system administered a stimulant and he was brought out of stasis.

  “What hit us?” he asked no one in particular.

  “Looks like there were explosives on the raiders, someone set them off. The Cold Reaver is ready to send another squad to back us up but they're pinned down. We must have missed a few raiders on our way in,” Victor reported. “Radics is out of commission and five others were killed. We have two more still in stasis, I didn't think they'd survive emergency medical measures.”

  “Good work Vic. Everyone check your gear, especially your weapons. Make sure they weren't damaged in the explosion. We'll secure our injured, break into two groups, seek and destroy the remaining raiders. Our stealth systems are dead for the most part, so be careful,” Alaka instructed. Everyone heard him open a channel to the fighter squadrons outside. “Ronin, are you receiving?”

  “This is Slick, Ronin's a little busy. How can I help?”

  “This is Alaka. We've taken casualties and the Cold Reaver is pinned down.”

  “All right, we'll instruct them to find a docking port closer to your location and pass the word onto Triton. Help should be on the way.”

  “Good. Until then we'll try to take the raiders from behind and clear a path. One more thing, it looks like all the raiders we've run into are wired with explosives. They pop if it looks like they're about to lose. That's what got us.”

  “I'll pass that on, thanks Alaka.”

  The communications tower on the broad, rectangular hulled ship marked Palamo took several hits but continued to build a charge. Ronin strafed and rolled as he tried to close in. The rough plated hull of the three hundred ten meter long ship showed scorch marks from several missiles and rounds from his squadron, but it was still intact for the most part.

  The few energy weapon emplacements left fired at him and the Clever Dream well behind him. They had just finished coordinating their attack on the vessel's engines but didn't disable them in time. The Palamo had gained enough inertia to drift out of the obscuring barrier.

  “Hurry the hell up, we can't take many more hits and if we don't take care of that tower she'll finish charging her micro wormhole generator and get a message off,” Slick reminded him.

  “I know! Help me out with the belly turret here!”

  “It's fried, you're on your own.”

  Several energy rounds struck the nose of their Uriel fighter, the last of which broke through and super heated a patch of the port side hull. Ronin opened up with the single 21mm railgun and particle accelerator cannons and finally tore the transmission tower to pieces as the Palamo’s nose breached the obscuring energy barrier. The fighter jostled and Ronin struggled with the controls as he watched one of his port engines super heat and explode into thousands of pieces.

  “That's it! We're down to no shields, three engines and we've got a two meter crack in the outer port side hull. Time to get back to the Triton,” Slick said firmly.

  “Redirect power to the emitters we have left and get us some cover. I think every gunner on that ship is trying to take us out,” Ronin retorted as he took drastic evasive manoeuvres. The space around them was filled with energy weapons' fire, Ronin's heads up display flickered as a shot grazed them. “Something's dodgy with my instruments.”

  “Mine too, switching to backups.”

  All but Ronin's visor display went dark. It linked into the starfighter's basic control systems, providing only the most essential information about engine power, disposition, speed and energy levels. “What did you do?”

  “Our backups are dead, trying to switch back!” Slick replied.

  “Don't bother! Just get on comms, get ready to transmit our boarding squads' status to the Triton.” Ronin shook his head as he controlled the fighter manually using the foot pedals and sticks. The responsiveness of the machine was down and he had to exert much more force to maintain control. It took all his concentration to maintain the exertion and try to stay clear of the incoming fire from the Palamo’s gunners.

  They broke through the obscuring field and caught sight of the Triton. She was beginning a slow descent towards the field. The dorsal side was facing them, bristling with rail cannon turrets, all turning towards the Palamo. An energy round struck the aft side of his fighter's hull and Minh cringed as the sound of decompression filled the cockpit. “You okay back there?”

  “The seat's secure, otherwise I'd get yanked out through the great big hole in our backside. Transmitting status to Triton.”

  “Tell them we're coming in for a landing while you're at it!” Ronin said as he tried to stabilize the fighter and correct their trajectory. The sudden decompression had caused them to drift between the Palamo and the Triton.

  “Gunnery deck to Ronin. You're in the way, lad,” informed Gunnery Chief Frost over the emergency channel.

  “One moment please,” Ronin grunted through gritting teeth as he spun the fighter and the two remaining engines. The Triton loomed closer, only a few thousand kilometres away as he thrust as hard as he dared. The chassis of the starfighter groaned as they corrected course. The T shaped grouping of railgun turrets spread across the top of the Triton lit up as Ronin's fighter narrowly slipped past the starboard edge of the massive carrier's hull. He noticed the sound of Slick's panic quickened breathing and grinned. “A little close you think?” he teased.

  “A bit! I'm stating to look forward to having my own rig thanks to all the near misses today. Speaking of which, we're cleared to land in bay three for two minutes.”

  Ronin struggled to get in line with the open landing bay door, firing the engines to slow down before they passed it altogether.
/>   “You're going to miss it,” Slick informed him, already calming down.

  “Shhh!” Ronin shot back, increasing thrust. The engine struts creaked under the pressure.

  “You're going to lose engine two!”

  “It's fine, can't afford to miss this landing otherwise we'll be back in line behind everyone else.” Their trajectory finally pointed towards the landing bay and Ronin redirected the engines to slow them down. Out of the corner of his eye engine two flamed out as its strut bent backwards and the cables carrying power to it tore. The sudden failure caused the fighter to spin as the landing bay loomed. He cut power and braced himself.

  “Too fast!”

  Ronin didn't have time to reply. He knew it wasn't as bad as it looked, but second guessed himself as the Uriel starfighter struck down on its side and skidded several meters before stopping. He opened his eyes and looked around. They'd managed to stop on one of the elevator pads that led into the Triton’s secondary hangar. It began lowering, drawing them into the main body of the ship. “Perfect, considering what's left of this thing.”

  “You are not going to tell me that was on purpose,” Slick objected.

  “Sure it was, and you can't prove otherwise,” Ronin chuckled.

  "I hate you."

  The airlock door above them closed and the chamber pressurized before the elevation pad proceeded. Another elevation plate slid in place above them and gently rose to touch the other side of their fighter. As they emerged onto the pressurized secondary hangar gravity reversed and increased. The secondary elevation plate took the weight and an emergency response team rushed to extract them from the fighter, putting experience from countless drills to use.

  The longest armoured plate from the side of the starfighter was unscrewed and removed in short order so Ronin and Slick could climb out with the team's assistance.

  “What the hell are you doing out there? There's nothing left of this! It's not a collision derby! You should have ejected!” The Assistant deck Chief exclaimed at them furiously. Her hundred thirty centimetre tall frame wouldn't be intimidating except for the enormous voice that screeched forth from it. Paula had become notorious for her raspy, high pitched voice and for scathing beratings.

  Ronin didn't bother looking behind him and smiled. “Nothing some shrink wrap and sealing tape can't fix. Have your teams ready a Ramiel fighter, I'm heading back out.”

  “My ass you're heading back out! Anyone who wrecks like this with a SIO right behind them shouldn't go out in a solo fighter, especially right after touching down!” Paula exclaimed exasperatedly.

  “She's right, Minh, you should hit the flight control deck, help Oz direct things from there. Besides, he said things are cooling down,” Slick said.

  “I'm fine, better than. The Clever Dream is running rescue ops and we'll have two fighters left to patrol after our damaged birds get aboard. I'm going back out.”

  “Listen to your Sensor Intercept Officer Ronin,” Paula pleaded irritably.

  “Get a Ramiel down from the racks and into the punter now, that's an order, Assistant Chief.” Ronin told Paula, pointing to the racks of pristine, predator like single seat Ramiel fighters lining the port side hull.

  “Do it. He's the Wing Commander, it's his call,” deck Chief Vercelli reinforced quietly over the communicator.

  “I'm taking your wing. You're not going out alone,” Slick told him.

  Ronin looked at him with mild surprise and nodded. “All right. Stay close.”

  “Cancel that. You're pairing with Hood. Slick's stress levels are too high,” Oz interjected from the flight control deck. “You're going to help Triton cross the barrier now that we've disabled the larger ships and turned them back inside.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I'll be out in a couple minutes,” Ronin turned to Slick; “Sorry, looks like you'll be on your own next time.”

  Slick nodded. “I'll head to ready quarters and cool down. Oh, and congratulations.”

  Ronin cocked his head. “On making it back alive? That's no surprise.”

  “No, on making ace your first time out. I counted six kills.”

  “It's not hard when we were so badly outnumbered.”

  “You should get to the punter if you want to help coordinate out there, Minh. You're in shaft nineteen,” Oz informed him over the comm. “You launch in three minutes.”

  Chapter 7

  Plans

  “We have an update from the boarding squads Captain,” announced Oz. The bridge above him was abuzz with activity as they finished extending a gravity net around the disabled Palamo and redirecting it to slowly descend back into the obscuration field. “You have to look for yourself.”

  Jake pulled it up on his control pad, inviting Ayan to look over his shoulder. The situation at a glance was alarming. “Stephanie, get four squads together and ready for pick up. I'm calling the Cold Reaver back and you're going to secure the station personally,” he ordered over the comm.

  “Aye sir. We'll be on deck in five ready to board,” Security Chief Stephanie Vega replied.

  “I'll have Ronin relay the order, he's on his way through the field right now,” Oz added on the command comm channel.

  “He's going back out?” Ayan asked.

  “Punting him in a minute, yup.”

  “Are you sure he's good for another go out there? He just put down six fighters and disabled two mid sized ships.”

  “His stats are healthier than mine, as cool as a cucumber,” Oz replied. “Besides, things are pretty much under control and we need a good pilot to coordinate our passage through the barrier.”

  “Figures. Get him in a cockpit and he's right at home.”

  “His SIO is pretty shaken up though. Not that I can blame him. What Minh managed to set down on the deck didn't look much like a fighter. I think he left half of it out there.”

  “But they're okay?”

  “Not a scratch. I'm taking Slick out of rotation for twenty hours though. He'll be taking debriefing duties instead. Minh has a note here saying that he wants him to get familiar with the paperwork so he can take the second squad leader position.”

  “We have a problem,” Jake said, pointing at the end of the boarding squad's report. “Stephanie,” he opened a comm channel to the Security Chief. “We're dealing with a slave crew, they have det implants.”

  “You're kidding. Did they set them off down there?”

  “Yup, a whole incursion crew was killed as our team surrounded them.”

  “All right, taking it under advisement.”

  “What's a det implant?” Ayan asked.

  Jake's eye was drawn to where Ashley was taking her place at the helm. She looked completely recovered. She had already overheard Ayan's question and looked unphased. “It's a slaver's tool. They implant a device with three or four compounds that combine in different quantities to kill, disable or detonate a slave if it suits whoever holds the controller.”

  “I wore mine until Jake bought me,” Ashley commented as she quickly, calmly reviewed all the helm status information. Larry, her navigator, was at her side bringing up the most pertinent bits of information and making manoeuvre recommendations.

  Ayan looked to her for a moment, stunned before returning her attention to Jake. “She was a slave?”

  Jake nodded. “They had a remote disabling device implanted in her breastbone when she was two. I removed it with nanosurgeon bots when she joined my crew.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “I bought three slaves while I was running the Samson.”

  “I'm not the only one?” Ashley asked. “I'm hurt.”

  “There were two before you.”

  “I'm hurt,” she repeated with a feigned huff.

  “You were the most expensive, if that makes you feel better.”

  “It does, thanks Captain,” Ashley beamed as she worked with Larry to prepare for their descent into the gargantuan obscuring field. “Why are we doing this again?” she whispered to him.
<
br />   “Because we need a place to hide from the Order of Eden and Regent Galactic while we power our main systems down and replace two of our main engines.”

  “Gotcha, just wondering,” she giggled as she settled into the pilot's chair as though she was resigning to being there for several hours.

  “You know, I think I like her.” Ayan whispered to Jason.

  “Everyone does,” Jake nodded.

  “Now what do you do about slave crews?”

  “Generally you stay the hell away from them, especially when they're wired up like live bombs.”

  “Can't you jam them or something?”

  “There's a small chance the jamming could set off the devices,” Jason interjected. “One in a million but-” he shrugged.

  “He's right. I was thinking about jamming them, but he's right.” Jake admitted. “I'm going to have to make a deal with the Captain. He'll be one of the only life forms aboard without a det implant. Can you scan the Palamo Agameg?”

  Agameg Price nodded and passed the order to his tactical team. They started a focused scan of the slowly descending carrier beneath the Triton. “There are three life forms without a det device, nine hundred and three with and they're all armed.”

  Jake sat back and slowly shook his head. “The Captain's ready to blow his whole crew if he has to.”

  “So he's holding his own crew hostage?”

  Jake brought up a larger diagram of the rough, rectangular small carrier. The Palamo had been mapped in detail by the Triton’s advanced scanners. There were a few damaged, decompressed sections but for the most part the ship was active. Red and white dots were scattered across the length of the vessel, designating several hundred life signs. “It looks like they're affecting emergency repairs. They really don't want us to take that ship.”

  “I'm detecting several tons of highly dense material, it could be raw diamond,” Agameg highlighted.

  “That would do it. A haul like that is worth a fortune, especially to a captain who doesn't have to pay his crew.” Jake stared at the cross section of the damaged vessel as he thought about the problem. “I hate slavers,” he muttered at long last.