“Aye, Captain, ceasing arc and proceeding,” Kala said with a quick glance around.
“Captain, I don’t,” I began when Agdta announced the arrival of another ship.
“A Sloop, not identified as Merchant Fleet, has just arrived,” she said, “It identifies as an independent shipper.”
“Sir, the Galactic Navy wouldn’t use an independent shipper,” I said, “to confiscate contraband in the middle of nowhere space.”
“I realize that Ensign. Something’s not right with this,” he said, “But what can we do? As you’ve pointed out, we are out gunned.”
“I have an idea to buy us a few hours,” Agdta said, “If we drop the cargo sleeve we’ll be faster.”
“The Patrol Boat is quicker than us even as an unencumbered Clipper ship,” Kala explained.
“I was just thinking that given time something might happen,” Agdta replied.
Ide had walked in while the Navigator and first officer were talking.
“A sloppy drop might do it,” He advised.
“What’s a sloppy drop?” I asked.
“We unhinge the cargo sleeve but leave a couple of clamps partially connected,” he explained, “When we pull away, the drag will cause the sleeve to begin spinning. It’s a nasty affair.”
“And can destroy our ion induction equipment,” Kala warned, “If the sleeve spins into the ship before we’re clear.”
“Uno Shoda you are required to reply and acknowledge our directions,” the Patrol Boat stated.
“I’ve reached a decision,” Xhosa announced, “I don’t believe the Patrol Boat is Galactic Navy. Ensign Piran has been in Navy offices at two ports of call. If he was wanted, he’d be in custody already. Whoever those ships belong to, it’s not our people. So, Ide, set the cargo sleeve for an inept drop.”
“How will that help us?” I asked.
“It will only help if the cargo is more important to them then a war criminal,” Agdta said, “They’ll have to use both of their ships to stop the sleeve’s rotation. It’s a gamble. Of course they could chase us down, board us, and take you. Then begin the process of halting the sleeve. But that’s assuming the real Galactic Navy didn’t show up before they finished.”
“And how would the Navy know we needed help?” I asked.
“Because, I sent a signal to them when we dropped into Internal drive,” the Captain said, “I figured four smuggler crates were just too much temptation for a Pirate group to ignore.”
“Ide, how long to rig the clamps?” Xhosa asked.
“Give me fifteen minutes,” the engineer said as he turned towards the hatch.
“Kala, have you ever experienced an inept drop?” Xhosa asked the First Officer.
“No, I haven’t,” she replied.
“Then let me take control,” he said sliding into the pilot’s seat.
It was the first time I’d seen the Captain do anything other than issue orders.
Kala, without being told, reached for the ship to ship phone.
“Patrol Boat Eine Vili, we are maintaining course and slowing due to a technical issue,” she said.
“Rodger that, Uno Shoda, proceed,” the same woman replied.
“We’re rigged for a sloppy drop,” Ide called a few minutes later, “Let me know. I’ll unhinge on your count.”
I could feel the reduction of the ion cannons through the deck of the ship. The Captain was dropping power a little at a time.
“Uno Shoda, you are below cruising speed,” the Eine Vili called, “Maintain your power and time.”
“We are attempting to make repairs,” Kala replied.
It was strange the woman on the Patrol Boat hadn’t even mentioned we had changed speakers. She bypassed any questions and acted as if it were normal to go from speaking to a Captain to speaking with an unidentified person.
“Engineering, this is Captain Xhosa,” Xhosa said, “We are experiencing an emergency. Prepare for a rapid uncoupling of the cargo sleeve. Please acknowledge.”
“Chief Engineer Tadhg, aye Captain, I am reading that you may issue an emergency uncoupling,” Ide replied, “Waiting on your command.”
“What’s that all about?” I whispered to Kala.
“Insurance. If the cargo goes missing at least we’ll be able to recover part of the value,” she said softly, “They like to hear the proper orders before they’ll pay up.”
“Chief Engineer perform a rapid uncoupling, repeat, a rapid uncoupling,” Xhosa ordered in a firm voice.
“Aye Captain, prepare for an unsteady cargo sleeve,” Ide said, “Evasive actions on your count.”
“Three, two, one, uncouple,” Xhosa stated while he rammed the power handles forward.
The ion cannons went from a ticking in the background to crashing waves of vibrations coursing through the deck. I watched a screen as the body of the Clipper moved away from the cargo sleeve. It wasn’t a clean separation.
One side of the sleeve attempted to follow the retreating hull. As the ship dragged the cargo container, the sleeve began to rotate. First slowly then, as it rounded towards the ion induction gear, the sleeve picked up more spin. It was close but, Xhosa powered the rear of the Clipper beyond the spinning sleeve just before the two collided.
“Uno Shoda, Uno Shoda reduce power,” the Patrol Boat ordered, “reduce power or we will fire on you.”
“Phelan, I do believe now is when we could use a defense weapon,” Agdta said, “Don’t you think?”
I sprinted out of the Bridge, raced through the crew lounge and used my hands on the railing to slide down one deck. Two turns later, I jumped into the gun access tube head first. I powered up the belly gun as I strapped myself in and called Agdta.
“Ready to rotate,” I reported breathing heavily.
“I believe now would be a good time,” Kala answered me, “The Patrol Boat has informed us we are running out of time to comply.”
I switched on the motor and dropped out of the hull. The huge orange globe was directly below me and off to one side was a battered Patrol Boat. It wasn’t in disrepair. The dents and scrapes seemed to be from deep space travel.
“Guns are active,” I informed the Bridge.
After eyeing the Patrol Boat, I looked and located the Sloop. It didn’t appear to be armed, besides, it was standing way off. I couldn’t hit it and figured it couldn’t hit us with a gun. The Patrol Boat, Eine Villi, was a different matter.
She was positioned at the limit of most ship board guns. So, while her guns might be newer, they wouldn’t be as effective at that distance. What worried me were the missile tubes. They were open and smoking. Missile tubes smoked for two reasons. One was the dispersion of atmosphere left in the tube when they loaded the weapon system. The other reason they smoked was just prior to launch.
Two missiles confirmed my fear. They seemed to hang just out of the tubes before the fuel ignited. Both lit off and nosed over too come directly at the Uno Shoda. I thumbed the targeting system for defense mode and the guns began to track. On automatic, my guns would fire at the opportune moment for the best chance of striking the missiles.
I held on as my guns poured out half a canister of propelled rounds. One missile exploded and, in the cloud of debris, my system and I lost contact with the second. It came out of the clutter fast and my guns missed it.
The Uno Shoda shook with the power of the war head slamming into the Clipper ship. I called the Bridge but, didn’t get a reply. I called the Engineer but, he didn’t respond.
I forgot about calling them when the Eine Vili started a gun run. It drove below the wreckage of the first missile and came at me. I knew it was coming at me because her guns were streaming bullets and the wave of rounds were about to break over my turret. Rotating into the ship followed by a quick rotation out again, caught the Patrol Boat by surprise.
The belly guns locked on and I stitched her nose like a zipper. It was a pleasant thought that each tooth of the zipper was a hole in the Patrol Boat. That’s whe
re the pleasantness of my situation ended. A Patrol Boat had enough mass to easily absorb those hits from my guns.
It was more of a moral victory then a death blow, but at least I’d had a shot at her. The Patrol Boat widened the distance and I saw two more missile tubes start to smoke. As my guns ejected the almost spent ammo canister and locked in a full one, I couldn’t see how I was going to take out two more missiles. I know I had to try. Plus, I was worried about the lack of communications with the Bridge.
Chapter 38
The Patrol Boat, Eine Villi, was turning for a heads on snap shot at the Uno Shoda. Both ships had moved far away from the cargo sleeve. The cargo container and the Sloop were just two dots in the distance. Then there were four dots. Two of these became yellow orbs. Seconds later, the yellow balls dissolved into big rectangular blocks. Each block was tailed by four orbs.
The Bricks came in hot. While the gun orbs took out the two missiles aimed at me, one of the BattlePlatforms erased the threat of the four missiles the Patrol Boat had fired to greet the new guests.
This only made the Brick pilots angry. I knew they were angry because they both fired missiles at the Patrol Boat at the same time. The Eine Villi vanished in a puzzle of parts and expanding gases.
I enjoyed the destruction for a second then rotated up into the Clipper ship. The gunner access hatch was no problem and the lower deck was fine, it was when I climbed the stairs to the crew lounge the smoke hit me. I smashed a rebreather mask on and felt my way along the aisle between the seats. Before I could reach the Bridge, I saw the outline of a man struggling to lift a plate.
“Ide, I’m here,” I said bending to take the other side of the large flat piece of alloy, “How are the Bridge crew?”
“I don’t know. Got to get this in place,” the Engineer grunted as we rose with the plate, “She’s venting atmosphere and the temperature is dropping fast. We can’t do them any good if the command deck freezes.”
For centuries, people believed lack of air or enormous pressure changes were man’s biggest challenge in space. What we’ve found over the years, since we moved into space, it was the cold that killed you. When you go from a warm, living and breathing person into a hard freeze, you are dead. Let the scientist debate the measure of absolute zero because long before you get to molecular inactivity, you are a very dead ice cube.
We slid the plate over the hole and Ide used a bolt gun to secure it. There was cold seeping in from around the edges but most of the space beast was blocked out. The hole on the far side was much smaller. We secure it as well. Once the cold was held at bay, we started to untangle the twisted mess of broken seats and equipment.
The missile from the Eine Villi had struck the Clipper in the crew lounge. It tore the oversized plush seats from their moorings and welded them into a blockade of fluffy filling, leather strips and bent metal rods. Ide cut with a saw and I heaved the pieces out of our way. Together we worked and soon the air cleared and an opening to the Bridge became visible.
It once was a hatch with an air tight door. Now the door to the Bridge lay half torn off its hinges. The frame was out of square, as well, and bowed inward. Most of the blast had been deflected by the wall separating the lounge from the Bridge. Unfortunately, the open door hadn’t stopped any of the pressure and seat parts.
I started to crawl onto the last of the broken seats, when Ide pulled me back.
“Clear the path first,” he instructed, “You can’t do anything if you get there and have no way to move the injured to sick bay. Besides, if the hull is breached, we’ll just seal them in.”
The idea we might have to seal the Bridge crew in was crushing. However, a major breach would endanger the entire ship, and certainly would have already killed the crew.
“Aye, Chief Engineer,” I replied as I began to pull on another piece of rubble.
We cleared a lane wide enough for us to walk side by side to the twisted door of the Bridge. Before we reached it, I heard a moan. Eagerly, I moved towards the sound. It was coming from the navigator’s station. Being partially behind the wall, the section had avoided a direct hit from the blast. Agdta was laying under the station.
“Easy, there Navigator,” I said kneeling down to check her injuries.
Her slight frame looked intact but one of her arms was bent backwards. I wrapped it in a dressing, I’d retrieved from a medical bag.
“Headache. When do we launch from hydroxyl Station?” she asked weakly, “Damn hangover, can’t think.”
“Agdta I’m going to move you. Let me know if anything hurts,” I said placing my arms under her.
“Everything hurts,” she said as she rested her head on my shoulder.
Sick bay was located just beyond the Captain’s cabin. What it lacked in size it more than made up for with three pressure chambers. Each chamber would hold most sick or injured crew members in a life sustaining state of high pressure. In that state, the body would start to heal but, mostly, it stayed the way it was when first put in the chamber. Survivors who’d been saved by the chambers described it as floating in warm water. It may have been the drugs talking as the chamber also injected the patients with a collection of medicines.
I lay Agdta on the hard plastic surface and pulled the clear lid down. The pressure bed came to life and fine needles punctured her in various spots. The hard flat surface flexed and conformed to the shape of the Navigator’s body. Once I knew she was secure, I rushed back to check on Kala and Xhosa.
Ide had the Captain laid out on the deck. His eyes were almost swollen shut, his nose was clearly broken, and one of his shoulders was wrapped tightly to his body.
“Phelan, help me get the Captain to sick bay,” Ide said.
“What about Kala?” I asked stepping over Xhosa’s body.
“No hurry for that one,” he said quietly.
We carried Xhosa to sick bay and placed him on a treatment table. Despite Ide’s statement, I rushed back to the Bridge.
I found the first officer’s body between two console panels. Apparently the blast had picked her up and drove her, head first, into the wall beyond the panels. After hitting the bulkhead, as attested to by the blood smear, she’d fallen to the deck. Her neck twisted at an impossible angle.
This was the end of a young Merchant Fleet officer’s career. This would have been her last deep space voyage. Kala Bha wanted to Captain Sloops. More ports of call meant more action and more crew members meant more interpersonal drama. She would miss all that now. And, the Realm and Merchant Fleet would be a lesser place without her.
I went back to Ide and helped him lift Xhosa. The man was large, thick with muscles, and damn difficult to carry. We finally lifted him and, after a couple of near drops, we placed him in a pressure bed.
“I guess this makes you Captain,” I said to Ide, “You might want to contact the Navy ships that are flying around.”
“Lad, years ago I had a chance to either stay with my engines or move to the Bridge and deal with a crew,” Ide said, “Can you guess which direction I went?”
“So, I assume, I’m speaking with the Navy,” I said.
“More than that Captain,” the Engineer replied, “We’ve got a rogue cargo sleeve back there. It needs to be retrieved and delivered. You up for that?”
“I believe so, if you don’t mind missing some sleep while you teach me the ropes?”
“Go talk to those Navy pilots before they get impatient,” he ordered as he adjusted the pressure chambers of Agdta and Xhosa, “and decide to blow us into the next galaxy.”
The bridge was dirty and covered in a thin film of fluffy stuffing from the chairs. I brushed off the pilot’s seat and sat.
“Clipper ship Uno Shoda to Navy Bricks,” I called out on an open channel.
“Go Uno Shoda, what is your condition?” one of the BattlePlatform pilots asked.
“We’ve stabilized the atmosphere leaks. We have two injured and one permanent routine medi-vac,” I reported.
Medical evacuat
ions came in four flavors. A medi-vac was a rush to get a trooper out of a combat zone for medical treatment, if the crew tasked with the evacuation, had a chance of completing the mission. The second, an emergency medi-vac, meant the trooper would die if they didn’t get to a medical facility. This left the evacuation crew in a quandary. Did they risk heavy enemy fire to save a life and maybe die in the process, or wait? A routine medi-vac was when the medical treatment could wait and the trooper was able to function. The one report, no one wanted to hear, was a permanent routine medi-vac. In short, the dead were in no rush.
“Sorry for your loss Uno Shoda,” stated the BattlePlatform pilot.
“I’m acting Captain and with the ship’s Engineer we plan to retrieve the cargo sleeve. Is it still there or did the Sloop take it?” I asked.
“The sleeve is still in place. We gave a little love to the Sloop on our way by,” the pilot said, “I’m Shark and my indulgent partner in the other BattlePlatform is Vulcon.”
“Surya and Viktoría, its Phelan Piran,” I said recognizing my flight school classmates, “I was in the belly gun when you interrupted the ass whooping I was about to unleash on that Patrol Boat.”
“You know J-Pop, it’s not nice for elders to lie to we youngsters,” Vulcon teased. I ignored her jab. I was more curious as to how two of the Realm’s most powerful weapons happened to be here to rescue me.
“Unless it’s a government secret,” I asked, “What are you two doing out on the edge of the galaxy?”
“We’re low men on the seniority list so we drew a recon mission,” Shark replied, “When Navy Command got a call for assistance for the Uno Shoda, we got the assignment.”
“Little did we know we’d get to fight Pirates and save a fair bachelor in the process,” Vulcon added. The girl has always been an odd mix of femininity and brutality, wrapped up in a pretty but dangerous package.
Chapter 39
That first day of flight school, when most of the newly commissioned officers were very full of themselves, one shied away from the group. I spotted Viktoría Freyja for two reasons. One was, like me, she stood apart from the milling crowd. On her side of the formation she kept a full body length while on my side, I kept about a half body length between me and the closest classmate. The other reason I noticed her was her tall athletic shape. Yup, she’s a looker.
Galactic Council Realm 1: On Station Page 21