Smuggler's Dilemma

by Jamie McFarlane

  A burst of unhelpful adrenaline soured my stomach as we helplessly watched squadron after squadron of fighters pour out from the pirate's ship. Even with the dreadnaught in my sight, I'd underestimated the scope of the Red Houzi's resources. To date, we'd only run into comparatively pathetic teams, sailing beat up old warships. It was unimaginable to me that pirates could field this many ships.

  When the two groups of fighters met in the middle, it was a slaughterhouse. Red Houzi fighters were blinking out of existence at an incredible rate. The difference in the fighter's skills was apparent. Every Navy fighter obliterated at least five pirates before succumbing to the horde. Even so, the mismatch in numbers took its toll and the Navy had to pull their fighters back as more and more pirates slipped past them, harrying the corvettes.

  The pirate's strategy became clear - take out the corvettes with fighters and have the dreadnaught duke it out with the destroyers.

  "We need to take cover," Marny said, breaking my reverie.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Those destroyers are going to be launching some big rounds. If just one of them comes our way, we're done. You need to get behind something big," she said.

  I felt guilty hiding. Tabby might be on one of those ships and it went against my being to turn away from the fight. Marny was right, though, we had nothing to contribute.

  "Understood." I grudgingly swung the ship around and sailed toward a large asteroid that would provide more than sufficient shield.

  Just as we dropped out of visual sensor contact, I saw the Theodore Dunham explode under a heavy fusillade. I felt like someone had ripped my heart from my chest and I gasped. Tabby couldn't be on that ship. Surely there wasn't enough time for her to have transferred from Mars to the ship. It was horrific, but Tabby would be okay.

  We sat behind the asteroid in stunned silence trying to process what we'd just seen. I thought I might throw up. I'd seen a lot of bad things in the last months, but we'd just witnessed the lives of several thousand people end in the blink of an eye. I shut down all but essential power and we quietly sat next to the asteroid. My mind reeled with the events we'd just witnessed, I fought the urge to scream. I'd never felt so helpless.

  "Enemy vessel off port side," Nick said.

  The dreadnaught was sailing past us slowly, close enough that if it could distinguish us from the asteroid, and if it had any desire, it could end us without a second thought. I should have run - we weren't on the winning side. Battle scars were evident as it sailed past. Large gashes had been rent from its side and a trail of debris marked its path. The only positive that I could see was that it was burning on a heading that wouldn't take it past the station. They would leave the station alone for now.

  I waited half an hour for the ship to sail out of range and then slowly pulled out of our hiding spot. As the sensors gathered information on the debris field, the finality of the battle became clear. Not a single ship remained in any recognizable form. It had been a complete rout.

  "Liam, I've got a fix on our wing and engine. I know it's hard to think about but I think we should recover them," Nick said.

  My mind flashed back to Tabby. What if she was on that ship? She'd be gone.

  "Liam?" Nick pushed. I ignored him and half walked, half jogged back to the office and sat down.

  "Kuznetsov, this is Hotspur, please answer," I said. I could barely breathe.

  "Captain. Where are you?" It was Sterra's voice.

  "They're all gone," I said.

  "Who's gone?"

  "All of them," I replied.

  "Liam focus. Get hold of yourself. I need you to be more specific. Please describe what you saw," she said.

  "Was Tabby on the Dunham? Tell me she wasn't on the ship." I pled.

  "Cadet Tabitha Masters? Your friend. Yes, Liam. Tell me what happened," she said.

  "Was she on it?" I needed to know, nothing else mattered.

  "Yes, Liam, she was on the Theodore Dunham."

  The rushing sound in my ears grew to the point where I couldn't hear anything else and sweat broke out on my forehead. I stumbled to the head and threw up. Nothing mattered. I heard Nick enter the room and pick up the receiver.

  STAY IN THE MOMENT

  "Cap..."

  "Cap…"

  I felt Marny's strong hands pull me off the floor.

  "She was on the ship, Marny," I said. Grief threatened to overwhelm me, I could barely get my legs underneath me.

  "Sac up, Hoffen, you've got a ship full of people who are depending on you. We're deep in enemy territory. Do you want the same to happen to your Mom, your Dad?"

  I closed my eyes, I knew what she was saying made sense, but I didn't know how to get it together.

  "You've got to put that feeling in a deep dark place and get in the moment. The hold door is jammed and your parents were in there when that ship ran over the top of us."

  "Shite!" I tried to pull away but she held on.

  "Hold on." She ran some water in the sink and brushed off the front of my suit.

  I looked down. I was a mess.

  "You have a concussion from getting thrown around in the cockpit. Change into your normal vac-suit. If we get that dreadnaught's attention we won't need the armor," she said.

  I nodded grimly and pulled off the suit I was wearing. My mind started clearing as the reality of our collision-induced tumble started to filter in.

  "Frak. The crates were loose in the hold!" I said.

  "Nick's working on getting the door open," Marny answered.

  "What about the dreadnaught?" I asked. "Is it still local?"

  "We could catch it, but it's on a burn for the outer reaches." The outer reaches was spacer talk for beyond the main asteroid belt.

  "Ada, set a course for the wreckage. We're looking for survivors," I said.

  "Aye," she responded over the comm.

  Track wreckage of all Mars Protectorate Fighter craft. Search for survivors.

  "Nick, what is M-Pro's ETA?" I asked over the comm.

  "Thirty five hours for fast response from Terrence," he said.

  I stepped off of the lift onto the berth deck. Nick had the door open but crates were blocking our way in.

  "Mom? Dad?" I said. They'd been agonizingly quiet.

  "We're here, Liam. Jack is fine, but we've got injured and casualties. Did we hit something?" Mom asked.

  I couldn't begin to describe what had just happened, so I simply answered, "Yes."

  "You locked us out of the command channel once you engaged the combat controls."

  She was right, we'd made the change when we brought the survivors in from the station.

  Just then an idea struck me hard and I knew I had to act. "Ada, burn as hard as you can for the station."

  "Dad, what shape are you in?" I asked.

  "Fully functional, why? What's changed?"

  Grant access to external video feeds to all occupants of ship.

  "Everything. Too much to explain, I'll summarize. Both fleets have been destroyed. Hostile dreadnaught is outbound. We need to search for survivors. You have access to the video," I said.

  "Got it. Good plan," he said.

  All ship announcement, "We'll be landing at P-Zero in a few minutes. There are still hostiles on station and Big Pete will be securing it. If you are able bodied, we need your help. When we land, we need to unload all crates into the docking bay to make room for survivors. If you want to participate in search and rescue, we'd welcome your help. But know this, the debris field is not secure."

  "Did I miss anything?" I asked Nick.

  "I don't know," he said. It was an odd response for him and I noticed that he was favoring his right arm.

  "What's going on with that?" I pointed at his arm.

  "I think it's broken. There's more pressing issues."

  "Adrenaline will only get you so far, Nick," Marny said from around the corner. She was apparently in the galley.

  He slumped against the wall and slid down, his eyes flut
tering. I leaned over and picked him up, he wasn't heavy in the .6g environment. His weight caused me to wonder why we weren't running at 1g, which was normal for a hard burn, until I realized we were down to a single engine.

  "Marny. Nick's down, I'm going to the forward bunk with him."

  I slung his legs through the door and laid him gently on the bed. Marny sat a medical kit next to him.

  "Help me get his vac-suit off. Nick, if you can hear me, I'm going to give you a mild sedative. We've got to take off your suit and I have no idea where your wounds are."

  He must have hit something incredibly hard to have overcome the suit's ability to absorb damage. I placed a small disc on his neck. It would knock him out for a few minutes. With his suit off, I placed diagnostic discs onto skin where the AI directed. My HUD showed that his right arm had multiple fractures, starting at his wrist. He must have reached out to stop his impact with something. He also had a tear in his gluteus medius.

  "He'll be fine, Marny." Saying it mostly to reassure myself.

  "Captain, we're sixty seconds out," Ada broke in.

  "Roger that, Ada."

  I left Marny to look after Nick. Now that we were at the station, the most important thing was to gain control of the medical facilities. If Nick's injuries were any indication, the old timers would be in bad shape. I needed to be in the hold to drop the loading ramp. Fortunately, Dad had prioritized clearing the crates blocking the rear door.

  I wasn't prepared for what I walked into. It looked like a horror scene from a vid. People had been crushed by crates and in some cases lost limbs. Mom had found the emergency med kit we had in the hold, but it was woefully inadequate.

  "Mom, can we seal those suits long enough to get the injured into the station?" I asked.

  The ship's hold was probably the worst place for the severely wounded to be. If I'd thought my mom couldn't handle this kind of stress, I'd have been wrong. She took in the information and then spat out orders to the group around her.

  "We'll manage," she said.

  "Ada, once they've unloaded the cargo, I need you to bring the Hotspur out to the debris field and coordinate the search and retrieval efforts. M-Pro is thirty-five hours out."

  Thirty-five hours was literally a lifetime for someone stranded in a suit. Most only had enough reserves to last fifteen hours at the max.

  "Can do, Captain. Are you leaving the ship?"

  "Yes," I said simply.

  Download all fighter ship trajectories from Theodore Dunham. I cycled into the air lock.

  Mom's voice came over the comm. "Liam, where are you going?"

  "Tabby's out there. I'm going to find her," I said. I knew it was nuts, but I reasoned that she could have been in one of the fighters when the destroyer blew up. I wasn't about to give up on her.

  Once outside the ship, I fired my arc-jets. The green level docking bays were just under the equator and I was headed to the top of the station where the James' Rental Shop was located. I'd helped Wendy for enough years to know she'd have a few haulers clamped to the station.

  I crested the top and looked across. I wasn't particularly surprised to see scorching and deep gashes where the security tower had once been tethered to the station. The destroyers would have taken it out first to stop the defensive guns from pounding away at their armor. I hoped the rental shop's equipment yard hadn't received collateral damage, as it was only two hundred and fifty meters away.

  I'd been jetting around with a vac-suit since I was very young. I didn't even think about it as I flew across the pockmarked surface as fast as I could and pulled up hard at the rental shop. I was in luck and Wendy's best hauler was still in the yard and undamaged. It had the largest pressurized hold, having been used to transport both equipment and people out to the claims before she'd purchased it.

  Vent atmo, open port door, disengage docking clamps. My HUD showed the controls for the hauler. I laughed to myself as I climbed into the ship. I used to consider this type of craft a large vehicle and it now seemed tiny. The single vid screen in the center console lit up, showing a full load of fuel and O2. I marveled at the simplicity of the machine.

  The hauler didn't have physical flight sticks but my AI knew to project a throttle and flight stick virtually onto my HUD. I grabbed the t-handled throttle and pushed it forward hard and lifted from the surface of the station. I reveled in the instant acceleration of the small ship.

  It took thirty minutes to arrive at the edge of the battle's debris field. The first ship I came to was one of the pirate's destroyers. In my mind it deserved no name, and the survivors, if they were to be found, would not receive any priority from me. I'd plotted a course that would lead me across the hundreds of kilometers of continually expanding battlefield. The torn hunks of the derelict ships sailed along their final trajectories, at least until they collided with something else.

  I'd hoped that the Navy's destroyers would have some remaining structure where survivors might be able to band together and seek shelter. A normal vac-suit had limited propulsion available, but it should be enough to allow survivors to hold on long enough for rescue. The destroyer's remains in no way resembled the once proud warship. Shredded husks were all that remained and my heart sank as I found no sign of life.

  I knew it was unlikely that Tabby would have been in one of the fighters, but I held out hope and raced after the closest. I had to move fast as several of the fighters had been going at high speed when the dreadnaught shot them down. Two of the ten fighters with wreckage big enough to track were already far enough away that I would never be able to reach them. The farthest was a full twenty hours away in my current craft.

  After a hard burn - at least as much as this hauler had to give - I caught the first craft. Before I even arrived at the ship, I knew there would be no survivors. A large hole had been punched through the cockpit, removing the entire passenger compartment. I forced myself to look hard, but didn't see anything too awful.

  This went on for a few hours. The ship debris drifted further and further apart and I could find no sign of survivors. I'd been hopeful a couple of times. The fighters had some sort of protective foam that filled the cabin when the ship took significant damage. In all the ships I'd found like that, the pilots were damaged beyond the point where I could even recognize them as human. A sense of hopelessness filled me as I reached the final ship, once again, finding nothing.

  Ada had set up in the middle of the debris field and was organizing the search efforts, using the hold of the Hotspur as a triage center. Apparently, I'd been too hasty when inspecting the debris field. Ada and her group were finding survivors, many of whom were inside the undamaged sections of the larger ships. Many had only slight injuries and were joining the recovery effort.

  "Ada, did you find her?" I asked impatiently when I got close enough for a line of sight communication. The comm disruptors the pirates had left were still making it impossible to communicate over any distance.

  "I'm sorry, Liam. No," she answered.

  "How many survivors?" I asked.

  "A hundred forty-five so far," she said. "I need you to make a run back to the station. We're getting full."

  "Okay," I said. Darkness threatened to overtake me again.

  I pulled alongside the Hotspur and helped people I didn't recognize, wearing naval uniforms, load the injured into the hauler. Once loaded, I sailed back to P-Zero. We were met by even more people I didn't recognize, many obviously injured, pulling the wounded out of my craft and carrying them into the station. I felt ashamed at my greedy, self-interested actions, wasting valuable time on a fruitless search.

  I vowed not to make the same mistake again nor to continue wallowing in my grief. I'd have plenty of time for that later. These people, Tabby included, had sailed into harm's way to protect my family and they deserved my best efforts.

  For thirty hours we searched and ferried survivors, Navy and pirate alike, back to the station. There's one thing that's never in short supply with the militar
y; people wanting to take charge. Probably the biggest upside to that was the fact that most are competent to do so.

  "Captain Hoffen, you need to land that bird," a voice I didn't recognize came over my headset. I was exhausted and wondered if I was making it all up.

  "Sure, just one more trip," I said.

  "Negatory, Captain. The fast response unit from Terrence has just arrived and they'll be taking over the mission now. You all have born enough of that burden. The Navy thanks you for your service, but you need to land that bird and get some shut-eye. You understand, son?"

  He didn't need to push at that point, as I was having a difficult time keeping my eyes open.

  "Is the Hotspur in?" I asked.

  "She's in bay four, same level, Captain," he said.

  I landed the hauler in the bay next to the Hotspur, arc-jetted over and cycled through the airlock and into the hold. I saw the end of the wing and the missing engine laying in the now, otherwise empty hold. The berth deck was empty, although the first bunk room door was closed. I took the lift up and stepped into my quarters. Nick and Marny lay on the bed. Marny started to rise, but I held my hand up to stop her and exited the room. I pulled a blanket out from under the couch and lay down. It wasn't the first time I'd slept on the couch and just stretching out meant the world to me.

  "Cap, sorry. The other rooms are all taken," she said.

  "It's okay, Marny. That's how we arranged it. I'd just forgotten. Go back to sleep," I said.

  "Did you find her?"

  "No." There was nothing more to say. I allowed the tears to flow.

  "I'm sorry, Cap," she said quietly. Marny sat down on the couch next to me and stroked my hair. Mercifully, sleep found me.