Archaea 3: Red

by Dain White

“Very well Gene. Carry on and remain calm, as they say.” At that moment I had made it to the stern tubes, trailing my ragtag retinue of dock workers, and assorted hangers-on. I swarmed up the scaffolding towards the bell housings, the massive bell-shaped units at the end of our motors that deform to provide vectored thrust of the ion jets that exit the nozzles. The AD folks were already breaking out the new nozzles from their crates, and I took a brief moment of silence to look them over.

  They were absolutely beautiful, formed out of glassed tungsten, with a ceramide insert. I drooled a little like Pavlov's proverbial pup at the handiwork. No wonder they cost so much – they must arrive from the gods.

  The workers had already pulled the old nozzles, and seeing them side by side was like looking at the most beautiful things ever made by man, next to something that fell off the back end of a coal cart. Either the captain was burning a little hot for the spec of our old nozzles, or they were junk – and maybe a little of both. Luckily, the new ones were rated well in excess of any charge we could get to the grates, even with our tuned tokamak.

  “Janis, it's important to recalibrate the throttle on this bird, we don't have pseudomass compensation for the acceleration limits we will have with the new engines.”

  “I have done this already Gene, though the limit is considerably higher than you might think.”

  “Well, as you think best, dear, but don't tell Captain Smith, or he will peel the tires clean off.”

  “Gene, we do not have tires, though I do recognize the term. Should I assume you were being facetious?”

  “Well... okay, yeah. I guess I was. I guess.”

  “You don't sound very convincing Gene, but I understand your concern. Be advised I will not hesitate to provide the captain with accurate and safe limits for the ship and crew, but I will make sure he understands how the new capabilities will affect his ability to remain conscious.”

  I laughed hard enough to spit on my visor.

  “That’s good enough for me, dear.” I said, watching as the workers hauled up a torque hammer to blast off the old mounting bolts. We had just started the process of attaching when all hell broke loose

  *****

  Yak spotted them first; I was watching the mechanics near the stern tubes.

  “Captain I need permission to engage sir. We have incoming hostiles, unknown numbers.”

  His voice was calm and cold. There were men in suits pouring out of the AD lock, looking for cover with rifles at the ready.

  “Weapons free, but do not get shot, that is a direct order. Gene, we have incoming – are you done yet and if not, why not? Work faster, mister.”

  “Working faster, aye” Gene sighed back, as Yak and I both leaped to positions near the stern docking clamp.

  “Yak, cover me” I said kicking for a better position towards the crates they had unloaded across the dock. Yak's longer gun had a better scope for ranged work, what I needed was a flanking position to prevent a forward assault. As I rolled past the crates, a few exploded in slow motion as the men pouring out of the AD lock fired on my position.

  Yak had their number though, and dropped two before the rest returned into the cover of the open lock. “Jane, roll up” he said in comms, and I leaped at full speed to the lifter that was parked between the Archaea and the lock. From there, I could get to the side of the main AD dock station, and have a good flank. They didn't know where Yak was yet, prone with his mimetics on, but they were popping fire like mad, their needles like streaks of white plasma burning across the open dock.

  “In position, Yak” I said in a voice that sounded like a war goddess. I was in my happy place, ready to go.

  “Ooh-rah, Jane. Hold tough.”

  “Copy.”

  I was set up in a perfect flank, in the shadow under a collection of piping that came out towards the gantry that sat behind the dock platform. For a moment, we had a sort of standoff and then I guess they decided they were tired of life, and tried to rush the ship.

  A chemser doesn't flash, it throws a beam of clear, coherent energy that punches right through just about anything, and these poor mooks were wearing standard pressure suits. Yak's fire was on target, and he dropped three of them before they made it five meters. The rest fell to their faces, skidding up behind the crate stack I had just been behind. I saw one of them trying to unhook a grenade from his belt, and made my decision. Sighting on them one at a time, I exhaled, and pulled the trigger. One after the other I serviced targets, without mercy, without remorse, without hesitation.

  “Clear, Yak.” I said softly into comms.

  “Clear, Jane. Move up to a flank on the lock and cover me.”

  “Moving now”, I said, hopping past the bodies to the side of the open lock hatch. I popped a quick lean into the opening to make sure the side opposite of me was clear and waited for him to roll up.

  I didn’t have to wait long. A few moments later he tapped me on the shoulder, and I sliced in, tracking the barrel around the corner into the empty lock, checking the corners.

  “Clear!” I said and took a position across the opening from Yak.

  “Sir, all hostiles are down, no casualties here.”

  “Outstanding job kids, keep up the good work. Gene? I am afraid our time is up.”

  “I know sir; we have the nozzles off and are working on the mating collars right now.”

  “Sounds vulgar, and you know how I feel about that.”

  Gene laughed. “Yes sir. How about: Soon, Damned Soon, and Real Soon Now!”

  “That's what I like to hear. Folks, it is now a good time to look small – the cavalry has arrived.”

  As he spoke, we were thrown completely in shadow as the massive bulk of the Barracuda hove into view above the face of the vast cliff overhead. Seeing a million-tonner in space is one thing, seeing it hanging above us filling the entire sky was absolutely unbelievable. My mind reeled at the sheer size and impossibility of her hanging there, while one by one, dropships started to fall.

  “Jane, look alive!” Yak called out, as the lock door started to cycle closed. I hauled down a portable light unit that was set up just past my position, and shoved it into the opening.

  “Way to go Jane” he said, and I hoped this lock was as smart as the main one we exited earlier. If this one didn't have interlocks, we were going to blow pressure. Luckily, that didn't happen, and we both exhaled.

  “Captain, Jane has the lock wedged, and they can't pop the inner lock” Yak said on comms, while I took a bit of a lean on the inner door, just to make sure – we were facing the kind of people that fire handguns at a frigate, after all.

  “Kids, the Barracuda is dropping on our position now, please look lively.” the captain replied abruptly on comms.

  “Sir we're holding position by the lock; Jane has it covered cold.”

  “Solid copy. Yak, I need you to meet the dropship, son.”

  “On my way, Captain,” he said, looking over at me. “Jane, you got this?”

  “Good to go Yak” I said as he kicked off towards the incoming dropship. I took an extra wrap on my sling, and hunkered down even lower in the opening. While I waited, I double-checked that my mimetics were lit and my clip was full. The last thing I did was unsnap a clip pouch on my belt and made sure the cartridge was free. If there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s to be fumbling around for more ammo.

  Right then, the inner lock started to glow.

  “Jane, I'm on my way back with a squad, hold tight”, Yak called on comms.

  We didn’t have time. “Yak, they're cutting the inner lock, I have to clear this door!”

  “Copy.” He knew as well as I did that if they popped the inner door they were going to space this section of the hab.

  I hauled hard on the light unit I had wedged in the outer lock, but it was held fast by the pressure of the mechanism – I couldn't twist it free. In desperation, I started kicking at the thing trying to force it through the crack, spitting and cursing as every kick slid me back. Fi
nally, right as I was starting to see blobs of hot metal spalling out of the white-hot glowing inner hatch, it popped through and the door closed in a snap.

  “It's shut!” I said, picking myself up and slide-hopping back to a cover position away from the door. At that moment, Yak and a squad of assault troops came skipping across the dock towards me from their dropship on the far side of the Archaea.

  “Good to go, Jane” Yak said as he rushed up and dove behind the crates next to me. He took an opposite lean on the stack, and we watched the door as the squad of Marines moved up to flanking positions by the numbers.

  One of them pulled out a handheld unit that looked like a drill attached to a pressure tank, with a big ring around the bit. He held it to the door and the ring clicked on.

  “Must be magnetic?” Yak said on comms.

  “Or glue, maybe both… but what is it?” I replied. I haven't seen anything like it, but it looked pretty handy. Whatever it does, I want one. Now the bit was spinning and shavings were peeling up away from the bit as the man cranked a lever on the side upwards, pushing against the deck.

  Suddenly it was through, and everyone around the door relaxed.

  “What's that, devil dogs?” Yak called across on comms.

  “Foam sir,” one of them men called over. “Nothing is coming in or out of this lock, it's sealed. We'll work from the other side and cut them out of there.”

  “Outstanding two-five, carry on”, Yak said.

  "Sir, request call sign."

  Yack laughed. "At one time, I was Echo Six Oscar, or Warpath Five. But that was when I was a Magnificent Bastard... two-five, just like you. Staff Sergeant Yak Onebull, retired. You know the drill, stop calling me sir!”

  “OORAH Staff Sergeant!” they hollered back on comms.

  “Shorty, what's going on down there?” the captain asked in a concerned voice.

  “I think we’re going to live, sir, these jarheads are just being dumb.” I said on open comms, laughing.

  “Typical. Tell Yak it’s time to get back to work.”

  “Amen sir. We have the lock secure, and Yak and I are rolling up, the Marines are holding this beach.”

  “Very well, that’s good to hear. Gene, what's the word?”

  “We are just packing up and coming down out of here Dak.”

  “Excellent. Okay folks, load up and get to your stations. We are hauling mass.”

  Yak and I moved up to the Archaea and helped Gene shift his toolbox aboard while the squad of Marines below extended a solemn one-finger salute to their long-lost brother in arms. Yak replied in kind, and as the ramp lifted, so did we.

  *****

  “Captain Hartley, Thanks for loaning us a few of your men, we were in a tight spot there for a moment.” I sat back in my chair and checked the boards for each section, with another eye on the course track Janis had for our launch to orbit.

  “Certainly, Captain Smith, I am glad to be able to help. My men reported the area was secure, and have taken the dock engineers under their protection.”

  “That's good to hear. Well, mister, I know you have a blockade going right now, but I have a tight schedule to keep. Mind if I sneak on out of here?”

  Of course, I was being polite. We could leave any time that I liked, and he knew it. Still, it can't hurt to make friends.

  “Captain Smith, I am afraid that is impossible. This area is locked down.”

  “Well, you know... in my day, using my name in the same sentence as the word 'impossible' meant at best, a keel-hauling. What if I told you I really, desperately needed to launch, and then asked nicely, and said please?”

  “Captain, you are going to launch anyway, aren't you?”

  “I am on a pretty tight schedule, Captain.”

  As I spoke, I was raising us up on lifters, towards the top of the crater rim. There was a moment of silence as he processed the fact we were already raising ship.

  “Permission granted, Captain Smith of the Independent Archaea… safe travels, damn you.”

  I chuckled across comms. “Same to you, Captain Hartley – good luck down here, hopefully they won't put up too much of a fight.”

  “Nah, this is nothing to worry about. Thugs and gangsters have nothing on Marines. I am sure we’ll take care of business. Barracuda out.”

  “Very good, Archaea out.” I replied, smiling.

  “Okay folks, all boards are green, and we are cleared to orbit.” The cliffs of Le Monnier crater fell below us and the lunar expanse beyond opened up to the far distance.

  “Secure for orbital burn in 3... 2... 1...”

  On the mark, I punched the drives… but nothing happened. I sighed loud enough to be heard in engineering.

  “Gene? Where are my engines, mister?”

  A moment of silence passed us by.

  “Gene? Are you awake back there?”

  Another pause ensued, broken only by the sound of Pauli sipping a slow, loud slurp of my precious coffee.

  “Captain... one moment, sir” he finally called back breathlessly on comms.

  “I will give you exactly one moment.” I said, and waited, for one moment.

  “Gene?”

  “Sorry sir, we're good to go. The fail-safe on the ion gun was tripped. We're ready to light the fires, sir.”

  “Very well, Gene. Once again folks, please secure for orbital burn in 3... 2... 1…”

  A mighty shove shook through the ship as she hurtled into space.

  “Woah Nelly!” I gasped back to Gene on comms.

  That was much better. A crushing shove into the cushions, feeling them inflate, that's more like it. No question about it, our engines are working now.

  “I'll say!” he grunted in reply, right as I dropped our burn and watched the cratered surface below roll away out of sight.

  “Gene, that was serious. I thought we had good drives before – but that... that's a whole new level.”

  “It sure is sir. Hopefully you won't melt these down like the last ones.”

  “They were melted?”

  “Yep, pretty much through. I was amazed they were still functional, in fact.”

  “They sure don't build them like they used to...” I said, wistfully.

  “Sir, I should hope not. Our new nozzles are only about a million times better than those old slagged hunks of carbon we used to have.”

  “I like the sound of that. So I can go a million times faster? HANG ON EVERYONE!” I screamed, mashing the General Quarters alarm... but just briefly. Yak and Pauli almost fell out of their couches laughing.

  “Good grief sir. One of these days I am just going to up and die of fear back here.” Gene chided good-naturedly.

  “I’m just keeping you on your toes, mister. Seriously though, what sort of improvement are we talking about with the new engines?”

  “I was just looking over the simulations that Janis has been working on, and they’re pretty impressive. It’s looking like at least a 500% increase, and maybe more if we overload the screens using spare current from the tokamak.”

  “Woof. That is nice, Gene… we can't actually survive that amount of acceleration, of course.”

  “Dak, you don't know how glad I am to hear you say that.” Gene sounded like a shipwreck survivor being handed a warm blanket.

  “Well, sure man – I know a little bit about this stuff. We almost didn't survive our run from the Mantis when we scuttled it, though I guess that could have been more from the pseudomass generators being used to hurl us around rocks at maximum thrust, more than straight up grav-loading.”

  I thought for a moment.

  “Janis, given our new thrust capabilities, can we generate enough pseudomass to compensate for maximum acceleration?”

  “Sir, I am afraid that would result in significant negative impact to crew viability. Given our maximum simulated thrust, with maximum compensation, the crew would be under 93 gravities, terran-equivalent.”

  I whistled appreciatively. Yak and Pauli turned around with ma
tching terror faces set to maximum.

  “Wow.” Gene said quietly on comms.

  “Okay Janis, let me pose another question, if you are able to simulate this, of course. Given what you know of the specs for the slipspace gear we're hoping to get from Talus Federation, would we have sufficient compensation for a maximum flank burn?”

  “Yes, in fact, if it is needed we could go beyond compensation, up to maximum safe limits for negative gravities.”

  We all sat in stunned silence for a moment, considering just how incredibly fast that would be.

  “Well now, I think that is a good goal to work towards, don't you Gene?”

  More silence. Maybe he fainted.

  “Gene?” I asked.

  “Dak, that... yes, sir... we need that gear. Could you imagine what that would look like from another ship? We could probably outrun anything.” Gene was the type of gearhead that lived for speed, as much as he pretended otherwise.

  “Gene, we could probably outrun kinetics.” Just saying that out loud made me slightly woozy, like I needed to grab something for support. I reached out for the rock solid stability of my coffee cup, just in case. A quick sip set my brain back on track, and I was ready to roll.

  “We're going to have to daydream later, in any case. We are coming up on our out-system burn and it's time to get to work. Yak, please send our course track to Lunar Control, and let me know if they complain.”

  “Sending now, aye”, he replied.

  I did a quick bit of math, and keyed the 1MC. “All hands stand by for a 3g compensated burn in 30 seconds. Once I get us up to speed, I will drop to null-g and we'll secure from condition Zebra.”

  “Sir, Lunar Control has acked the request; we're good-to-go”, Yak called back.

  “Very well, Yak. Stand by.”

  I settled my head back into the headrest and started breathing exercises, trying to load as much oxygen into my coffee system as possible. I'm pretty acclimated to higher gravities, but you just never know when you might need to do something crazy, and a good pilot plans to react appropriately, and to avoid being asleep. That of course, reminded me to lock down the magnetic base on my cup after another life-saving sip.