We didn’t have to, because we had physics on our side. When the enemy ship jumped in, it created a gamma ray burst, and a particularly nasty one, because of the spacetime ripple Skippy caused. Advanced-technology ships could absorb part of that energy in their shields, but no ship could contain all those photons.
Because Skippy had been busy doing the math on where the enemy had gone, we jumped twenty-one seconds after our quarry. To give us another margin of error, Skippy programmed the navigation system so we emerged a full lightminute from the outer edge of the imaginary bubble where that ship had to be. And, twenty-six seconds later, we detected a gamma ray burst. “Positive contact,” Skippy declared in a tone that meant he was deadly serious. “Intercept coordinates programmed into nav system.”
“That ship is unarmed?”
“Affirmative,” is all he said.
“Pope, jump on my signal. Weapons officers, railguns and directed-energy cannons only, I don’t want to waste missiles.” The bridge crew confirmed my order, and I squeezed my fists with anguish. “Pilot, jump.”
In a flash, the display went from showing empty space to showing the image of a Maxolhx supply ship. Skippy might have been a bit too aggressive with the jump coordinates, because it looked like we were right on top of the damned thing. Railguns fired and scored hits immediately because we were so close, the flight time of the darts must have been mere seconds.
We ripped that ship apart. No one needed instructions from me, the bridge crew knew how many people we had lost. The first volley of railgun darts splattered against the supply ship’s shields and they flickered and failed under the onslaught of kinetic hellfire. Particle beam cannons poured their energy through the gaps, burning into the hull plating and quickly punching straight through the lightly-armored vessel. Six seconds after our first shot, the enemy exploded and Valkyrie rocked, our own shields flaring as they deflected the high-speed debris. Our ship was bathed in photons released when the supply ship’s capacitors were breached.
Then it was over, the debris and photons racing past us in an ever-expanding sphere that lit up empty space in all directions.
“Sorry, Joe,” Skippy spoke softly. “I didn’t think-”
Ignoring him, I took in the initial damage report with a glance. The ship would survive. “Program a jump to take us back to the station, and engage when ready.”
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
When we arrived back near the station, I was dismayed. No, I was outraged. The Flying Dutchman was slowly tumbling, thrusters firing intermittently to get the ship stable again. Seeing the damage to our long-suffering space truck had me dismayed. My outrage came from seeing a Falcon dropship was only just now launching to rescue survivors. “Reed!” I let my rage explode. “What the hell-”
Nagatha responded. “Captain Reed is busy, Colonel Bishop. She is personally flying that Falcon. Damage to this ship prevented us from launching a rescue effort sooner.”
Oh, hell. I had become that guy. That asshole who screamed at his people when they were doing their best. Shouting made me feel better, it did nothing useful. Biting my lower lip, I struggled to get control of myself. Because we had jumped in well away from the battle zone, to avoid bathing survivors in deadly radiation, we were too far away to assist directly. “Nagatha, I understand.” My voice was shaky and I felt lightheaded. Inside, I was praying over and over that Adams was among the survivors. That information had to be available, I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know, not right then. I still had a job to do, other people were depending on me.
Plus, I didn’t want to know. “Is there anything we can do?” I asked as I watched the Falcon accelerate hard toward the broken Panther. Reed would need to be very careful flying into the debris field.
“Colonel, the medical facilities of the Valkyrie are significantly more advanced than I can offer, and Skippy is there,” Nagatha answered. “I suggest that injured people be taken to your ship.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I said mechanically. “Pope, take us in, closer to the rescue effort.”
“Sir,” he glanced back at me. “We can’t get too close, or we could knock some of the debris out there in the wrong direction. Right into our people.”
He was right. The massive bulk of our battlecruiser meant we had to be careful maneuvering close to anything we didn’t want to risk damaging. “Use your best judgment, Pope.”
On the display, Reed had the Falcon slowing, and the rear ramp was already open. She must have people in suits and jetpacks, ready to fly over to the shattered front half of the Panther. They would need to be very careful, there was lots of hazardous objects floating around, colliding with each other and spinning off in unpredictable directions. We could lose people in the rescue effort if-
My brain began working, for the first time since I saw my people torn apart. “Skippy, can you map the debris field, and guide people safely toward the Panther?”
“That is a good idea, Colonel,” he replied, and I didn’t even notice that he hadn’t called me ‘Joe’. “I should have thought of that. Also, there is one survivor who was ejected from the Panther. I will guide Captain Reed to intercept.”
“Thanks.”
“Colonel,” he continued. “If I may make a suggestion? I have accessed the station’s databanks, those two ships were the only enemy units in the area. There is not another ship scheduled to be here for eight months. This might be a good time to go back aboard the station. With the loss of, of-” He struggled with the delicate subject. “Of the power boosters that were aboard those three dropships, we do not have enough to restore Valkyrie to full function. There is other equipment-”
“Fine, yeah, good idea. I’ll do it.” I waved a hand. “Pope, you have the conn.”
“Sir?” Pope turned to stare at me.
“I’m taking a Panther on a shopping trip over to the station. There’s nothing useful I can do here.” That was true. I needed to do something or I would go crazy. “Carry on.”
At the entrance to the docking bay, Captain Frey was waiting for me, dressed in powered armor, holding a helmet under one arm. She had a rifle slung over her shoulder. There were tracks of dried tears on her cheeks, and her eyes were puffy and red.
Seeing her stopped me in my tracks. I didn’t have tears in my eyes. Why? We had lost people I cared about. Was I in such shock that the reality hadn’t hit me yet? If that was true, was I safe to fly a Panther? Most of my time at the controls of a Maxolhx dropship was in a simulator. “Frey? What are you doing here?” She had been injured again when we took the aft end of the battlecruiser. “You’re on medical exemption.”
“Sir, I may not be fit to serve with a STAR team but I can move. If you’re going to be lugging gear from the station, I can help.”
I hesitated, thinking more about my own fitness for duty.
“Please, Sir,” she came to attention. “I need to do something useful.”
That hit me. “We all do, Frey. All right, but leave that rifle in the Panther. If we need it over there, we’re screwed anyway.”
I flew very carefully, precisely. Better than I usually flew. My mind was clear, with none of the usual clutter jamming up my brain. I was a robot, devoid of emotion, pushing aside thoughts of anything but accomplishing the mission. With Frey and two others, we got the Panther stuffed with anything Skippy thought might be useful. It was so overloaded that we had the back ramp hanging open. The Panther’s center of gravity was skewed toward the aft of the cabin, I would need to adjust the flight controls to compensate. Before we left the station behind, there was one more task to perform. I took almost no comfort from following his directions to activate the station’s self-destruct mechanism.
Approaching the Valkyrie, I saw a docking bay door was open, the interior bathed with light that glinted off the Falcon that was resting in a cradle there. “Reed?” I called softly.
“I’m in the Falcon.” Her voice was tired and she had to take a shaky breath before she could a
dd “Sir. I dropped off survivors, now I’m heading back to the Dutchman. Unless you want me to stay here?”
“No, Reed. A ship needs a captain. Your place is aboard the Dutchman.”
“Thank you. Sir?”
“Reed?”
“Five,” her voice choked. “Survivors. Three of them are- You need to see for yourself.”
“I will. Signal Pope when you’re secure aboard your ship, I want to jump us away from, from here,” I spat out the word. “Soon as possible.”
“Understood. Sir, I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Fireball. We all did what we could. Our luck was bound to run out someday.”
“Joe,” Skippy spoke quietly in my earpiece when I got my helmet off and was headed toward the bridge. “You should come to the sickbay.”
Was there a tremble to his voice? No, that was not possible. He was an ancient artificial intelligence. He did not experience emotions, he only emulated them. Or did he? “I’m not a doctor, Skippy. My place is on the bridge, where I-”
“Pope can handle the ship,” he interrupted. “We are only performing two simple jumps, to get clear of the area. The station is already set to self-destruct.”
In the corridor, I was gripping a vertical railing with my right hand, while my left hand rubbed my face. Rubbed hard. Like obsessively, I realized. I jammed my left hand in a pocket. Soldiers are not supposed to put hands in their pockets, some small part of my brain reminded me. That’s what gloves are for. It irritated me that my mind called up regulations that could not possibly be relevant. It irritated me more that my hand automatically came out of the pocket. “Ok, Skippy, I’ll- I will- Let me change my uniform and-”
“You had,” he paused. When he continued, his voice was strained. “You had better come now, Joe.”
A deep breath restored my calm. “On my way.” My zPhone had to guide me, because the layout of the battlecruiser was still new to me, and because my brain wasn’t working correctly.
“Colonel Bishop,” Nagatha interrupted my thoughts. “You should know that I am programming the jump navigation system for both ships.”
“That’s good, to coordinate-”
“No, Colonel,” she disagreed. “I am programming the Valkyrie’s system, because Skippy is currently not capable of performing that task. He is focused on medical treatment for the survivors, and he is in a highly emotional state. If he were a biological crew member, I do not believe he would be considered fit for duty,.”
“Can he act as a doctor?”
“Yes. He has directed a submind to administer medical treatments, and that submind has not been equipped with emotions. Colonel, Skippy’s emotional state is rather fragile at the moment. I have never seen him like this. I did not think he was capable of losing control is such a manner.”
“We’re all emotional right now, Nagatha. How are you holding up?”
“I am functioning well enough, Colonel, but concentrating on my duty. When I eventually do have to process what has happened, it would be good if the ship were offline, or if Skippy could take over for me.”
“I know what you mean. I appreciate it. Ok,” I took another deep breath when I saw the sign we had installed, hand-lettered SICKBAY with an arrow pointing to the left. “Jump us when we’re ready. Talk with you later.”
“Thank you, Colonel Bishop. Be strong.”
“You too, Nagatha.”
Skippy’s avatar was glowing next to a scary-looking medical robot, that hovered over a sort of combination bed and tank where a person was lying, covered with nanogel and with tubes like spaghetti looped into and around. I raised a hand, then stumbled to a halt.
The robotic doctor was not doing anything. “Skippy, what’s-”
“Oh, Joe,” he took off his admiral’s hat and tucked it under one holographic arm. “It’s Fal.”
Desai. It was Fal Desai. I had rarely used her given name, except to type it into reports. “How is- What is?”
“I did everything I could, Joe.” He shook his head. “It’s just a matter of time. Her system has shut down, there was too much damage.”
Underneath the gel and the medical equipment, she was barely recognizable, except for strands of her hair. And her uniform. It had been cut away from her, soaked with blood that had instantly frozen and boiled away when she was exposed to vacuum. Sickeningly, I realized my right foot was standing on a scrap of cloth. Lifting my foot away, I saw a pocket and ‘DESAI’ in black. Without saying a word, I picked up the scrap of cloth and placed it at the top of the tank’s railing. “There isn’t anything-”
“She’s not suffering, Joe,” he assured me. “According to her flightsuit computer, she lost consciousness immediately.”
“That’s a comfort, I suppose.” I said one of those meaningless things people say at a time like that, because they feel a need to say something.
Skippy’s avatar reached out a tiny hand and at first I didn’t know why, then I did. I took his holographic hand between my thumb and forefinger, and we just stood there, listening to the medical machines whirr and beep. We stood there until I saw the spaghetti strands begin moving, withdrawing. “She’s gone. Oh, Joe. I am so sorry.”
“She was,” my eyes finally welled with tears. “She was with us, right at the beginning. She trusted me, and-”
“She trusted us, Joe. I should have done better.”
“You couldn’t have known, Skippy. There was no way-”
“I call myself Skippy the Magnificent,” he spat as he jerked his hand away from mine. “I should have known. I should have found a way!”
“Skippy, you want to do something useful? You want to help Fal?”
“I can’t help her, Joe.”
“You can do what she would have wanted you to. She met a guy, on Earth. She cared about him. She has a family there. You want to do something? Protect the people she loved.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. I just stood, my hands on the railing. “This is hard, Joe. Being mortal, I mean. How do you humans do this?”
“Because we don’t have a choice, because that’s who we are.” I straightened up, dreading what came next. “All right, there were five survivors.”
“Seven, Joe. Seven people survived the initial trauma, but two died while waiting for Reed and her people to reach them.”
“Could we have saved them, if I had taken Valkyrie in to get them, instead of dumping that responsibility on Reed?”
“That’s a dangerous question to ask. You didn’t have a choice, Joe, we had to stop that enemy ship from getting away.”
“I did have a choice. My head tells me I made the right call, but even a good decision comes at a cost.”
“Shit. Joe, you are not going to like hearing this next part.”
Holding up an index finger for silence, I looked behind me for someplace to sit down. There weren’t any chairs or benches. Not even a table. Maxolhx medical facilities were sterile in design, as well as in terms of cleanliness. As a compromise, I leaned back against a bulkhead that was relatively free of equipment. “Who else?”
“It is a long list, as you can imagine. Smythe is alive. He lost both legs below the knees, and he had considerable internal bleeding. He should make a full recovery, however-”
“I know. It’s going to be long and painful.”
“Joe, I am still learning the complexities of Maxolhx nanotechnology. Some of it is surprisingly crude, so I am modifying the substrate, and well, it’s going slowly. Maybe if I had worked harder on this, it- No, there isn’t anything I could have done for Desai.”
“I know you did your utmost, Skippy. Can I see Smythe?”
“No, he is unconscious, which is a blessing. His suit kept him alive. It will be two or three days before I will feel safe about waking him.”
“Let me know when I can talk with him. Keep going.”
“This is difficult. You mentioned that Desai was with us from the beginning. Renee Giraud was there, too. He
didn’t make it, Joe. He was one of the two people we lost, before Reed was able to get there. Truthfully, I do not think there is anything that could have been done for him, but-”
“Yeah. Hell,” I slammed a fist into the bulkhead. “Why were Desai, Smythe and Giraud all in the same damned dropship? That is poor operational-”
“They were last to leave, Joe. Smythe insisted on making sure everyone else got away, his team remained behind to cover the retreat. Desai waved off other teams, so she could pull Smythe out. Giraud was delayed when the cargo mover he was using broke down. He and another soldier lugged a set of power boosters by themselves.”
“All right. I’m not going to second-guess people who had boots on the ground. Ok, who else?”
“Joe you haven’t asked about-”
“Adams,” the name stuck in my throat. “I know. She was, a, a valued member of this crew.”
“She’s more than that, Joe.”
“She was a proud Marine, Skippy. I can’t dishonor her memory when I still have a duty to the crew, and to our mission. I am going to keep going and- Wait. You said ‘She’s’? Is that ‘she was’, or ‘she is’?”
“This is why I hate the English language. Is, Joe, is.”
“You should have led with that, you-” I was so angry, I couldn’t talk.
“It’s not good, Joe. She is in a coma. Not a medically-induced coma, although I will do that if she recovers sufficiently. She has serious internal injuries, and her helmet cracked. Nanogel stopped the air from all leaking out, but she was exposed to partial vacuum. There, this is not easy to say. There could be brain damage. She might recover, or it could be permanent, I just don’t know yet. At this point, I am afraid to send in nanoscanners.”
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