by Jake Bible
“The entire time,” Chann said. “Mine smells like puke.”
“So does the bridge,” Nordanski said. “Both Rosch and Teffurg lost their cookies coming out of the wormhole. Kept flying the ship, though. Tough sons of bitches.”
“They are Marine pilots,” Ma’ha said. “They better be tough.”
Nordanski opened the airlock and stepped in, moving out of the way for the others. Once all were in, he sealed it and slammed his hand against the external controls. The usual visual and aural warnings erupted around them. Nordanski ignored the warnings and engaged the outer airlock door’s controls. A view into space greeted them all.
And the sight of a bright yellow and orange planet.
“Oh,” Kay said.
“Yep,” Nordanski replied. “Come on.”
It took them twenty minutes to make their way along the ship’s outer hull before they arrived at the bridge’s emergency airlock. It was a tight squeeze getting all four of them inside, especially with Ma’ha’s bulk, but they jammed in and the airlock sealed up tight.
“Careful of that spot there,” Nordanski said as they exited the airlock and stepped out onto the bridge. He was pointing to an area to the right of the airlock where the deck’s metal looked warped and twisted. “Also, leave your helmets on. Nothing is safe on the ship right now.”
“That’s a freaking understatement,” Rosch said as she swiveled her body around to look at the newcomers. “Glad you made it. Grab a seat and be quiet.”
“Good to see you too,” Chann said.
“That’s the opposite of being quiet,” Rosch said.
“What’s with the floor?” Ma’ha asked, skirting the warped metal.
“Grav pocket,” Nordanski said.
“What?” Ma’ha asked.
“That was my reaction,” Nordanski said. “Sarge’s reaction was slightly more colorful.”
“Kiss my ass, Nord,” Manheim said.
Chann turned and gasped as he saw Manheim strapped into one of the jump seats. Half of his left leg was gone, his enviro suit sealed up around the stump. Manheim gestured at the stump then over at the warped metal.
“I stepped right into it,” Manheim said. “Crushed my leg instantly.”
“The weirdness is staying put for now,” Rosch said. “Let’s hope it remains that way. Last thing I want is to get squished in my seat.”
“I am hoping my exoskeleton will protect me,” Teffurg said.
“Probably just crack you like a nut,” Nordanski said as he plopped down in an empty seat. “Take a load off, guys. We’ll bring you up to speed on our situation.”
“What’s the sit rep?” Chann asked.
“Besides being screwed to Hell and back?” Rosch said. “That.” She pointed at the view screen which was filled with the image of the yellow and orange planet. “I am currently trying to figure it out.”
“What does the AI say?” Kay asked.
“You and AIs,” Ma’ha muttered. Kay ignored him.
“I have the AI working on other tasks,” Rosch said. “There are plenty. My focus is on this planet.”
She waved a hand and a holo of the planet appeared in the center of the bridge. Rosch spun her seat around and pinched her fingers together. The image grew and zoomed in on a specific spot on the planet.
“What is that?” Chann asked. “That’s a military transponder code. Galactic Fleet. Not Marines, though.”
“No, not Marines,” Manheim said. “And not current.”
“The transponder code is about fifty years old,” Rosch said. “I cross-referenced it in the database, and it came up as the code for an abandoned supply outpost. The GF decommissioned it without explanation. No records of any kind exist other than a name.”
“Which is?” Kay asked.
Rosch looked at Nordanski then Manheim. The sergeant nodded.
“Javsatfem,” Rosch said.
“That’s the Ferg word for Hell,” Nordanski said. He lifted his carbine with one hand and twirled his gloved fingers with the other. “Yay.”
“Ferg? It’s a Ferg planet?” Kay asked.
“No,” Rosch said. “That’s the thing. We don’t know what planet it is or even what system we’re in.”
The holo of the planet was replaced with a holo of the general system. Rosch brought up a holo of the known galactic systems next to it and the words “no match” flashed in bright red letters. Rosch waved both holos away and spun back to the view screen.
“The only reason we know the name of the outpost is because of the transponder,” Rosch said.
“And you think there’re hostiles down there?” Chann asked Manheim. “Why?”
“Because the transponder signal cut out as soon as we scanned it,” Manheim said. “It didn’t die it out, it was turned off.”
“Shit,” Ma’ha said.
“Now you’re speaking my language,” Nordanski responded. “Wait. It gets better.”
“How so?” Chann asked.
“Why would the transponder even be on?” Kay asked before Nordanski could answer. “Leave it off and there’s no reason to turn it off.”
“And we have a winner,” Nordanski said.
“Stinks of a trap,” Manheim said. “Pique our interest and get us to send a team down there to investigate. Then spring the trap.”
“Fine,” Ma’ha said. “Then we stay the hell away from Hell.”
“Would it were so simple,” Rosch said. “It’s a supply outpost. We need supplies. Lots of supplies. This ship is going to need some major work done on it if we’re ever going to get our asses back home.”
“You think an abandoned supply outpost will have the supplies we need to repair the ship?” Chann asked. “Sounds like a long shot.”
“We need a long shot,” Rosch said. With a heavy sigh, she turned around again. A new holo came up. “Welcome to our current situation.”
It was a holo of the Romper. Entire portions of the ship were gone while others looked like they were barely attached, waiting for a harsh solar wind to rip them off and send them tumbling through space.
“Any questions?” Rosch asked.
“If the Romper can’t be repaired enough to get us out of here, then we have to look at other options,” Manheim said.
“How can it be repaired when it looks like that?” Chann exclaimed. “Are there even engines?”
“No,” Rosch said. “But we can fix that.”
“How?” Chann asked.
“Drop ships,” Rosch said. “Once we have the Romper sealed and secured, which will mean it will end up a quarter of its original size, Teffurg and I will lock the drop ships against the aft end and synch them with the bridge controls. It’ll be slow going, but we’ll at least have propulsion. Enough to get us back through the wormhole portal and on our way home.”
“We’re one drop ship down,” Chann stated. “The one that mattered.”
“DS1, I know,” Rosch said.
“So you get what I’m really saying?” Chann said.
“She gets what you’re really saying,” Manheim replied with a pained chuckle. “And relax. She took care of it.”
“You think I’d leave something as important as our financial future to a bunch of combat-drunk Marines?” Rosch said. “Please. Give me some credit. I had all the loot moved to an internal cargo hold. It was in case we got boarded by GF authorities, but that didn’t turn out to be the problem.”
“So we have the loot?” Chann asked. “It’s not gone?”
“Yeah, Chann, that’s what she’s saying,” Nordanski said and looked at Kay. “Did he take a hit to the head?”
“Everything is safe,” Rosch said. “So shut up about it. We have bigger things to worry about.”
“Like the repairs. They will not be easy,” Teffurg said.
“They know that,” Rosch said, rolling her eyes.
“We don’t have all the supplies we need to get the repairs done,” Manheim stated.
“Nope,” Rosch said. “
We also don’t have enough power. Fuel cells are at six percent. I’m working on rerouting all of that power to the bridge so I can get life support up and going. At least in this area.”
“We can’t stay in our suits forever,” Teffurg said.
“They know that too,” Rosch huffed. “Stop stating the obvious.”
“The obvious is all I am comfortable stating,” Teffurg said as he pointed at the view screen. “Too much unknown.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Kay said. She nodded at Nordanski. “Gonna warn you, it’s a hike and half back to the hangar.”
“Gonna be even more of a hike with Sarge in tow,” Nordanski said. He waited for the surprised reactions from the others then laughed. “Yeah, you heard me.”
“Sarge? You’re in no shape to come with us,” Kay said.
“Sit this one out, Sarge,” Chann said.
“I’d love to, but I need a med pod,” Manheim replied. “The Romper’s med bay is offline which means the only med pods available are on the drop ships. Rosch and Teffurg need the extra drop ships as temporary engines. I can’t be on one of those which leaves the DS you all will be taking down to the outpost. Looks like I’m hitching a ride whether I want to or not.”
“This just gets better and better,” Ma’ha said.
“Welcome to our new reality, kids!” Nordanski laughed.
“Everyone take a seat,” Manheim said. “We’ll hike it down to the hangar in an hour. Then we head for the outpost and see what we can see.”
***
After getting Manheim situated in one of the drop ship’s two med pods, Chann and Nordanski made their way up to the DS’s bridge where Ma’ha and Kay were busy arguing over who would pilot down to the surface of the planet.
“How many reentries have you logged?” Ma’ha asked.
“More than you,” Kay said.
“You don’t know that,” Ma’ha responded. “How many?”
“Fourteen,” Kay said, her hands on her hips. “And you?”
“Shut up,” Ma’ha said and took the co-pilot’s seat.
“See!” Kay exclaimed as she turned to Chann and Nordanski. “Bam! Pilot!”
“You better not be lying,” Ma’ha said sourly.
“If she is, then we’ll be too dead to shove it in her face,” Nordanski said as he took one of the open jump seats bolted to the wall.
“Too dead is not a thing,” Ma’ha grumbled. “You’re dead or not dead.”
“Says you,” Nordanski replied.
“Says all of existence!” Ma’ha snapped.
“Guys? Shut up,” Kay said.
Chann took the seat next to Nordanski and strapped himself in, his eyes locked onto the back of Kay’s helmet.
“You sure about this, Kay?” Chann asked.
“More than sure,” Kay replied. “AI? How are we looking for departure?”
“All systems check,” the AI replied.
“We should give her a name,” Nordanski said. “Can’t just call her AI all the time.”
“I do not possess a gender,” the AI said.
“But you have a female voice,” Nordanski responded. “That makes you a she.”
“We aren’t naming the AI,” Ma’ha snapped. “It’s not a person.”
“I must agree with Private Ma’ha,” the AI said. “I am not a person and do not require a name. Calling me AI is sufficient.”
“Thank you,” Ma’ha said.
“You totally just thanked an AI,” Nordanski said.
“Shut up,” Ma’ha grumbled.
“There is one issue I must report,” the AI said. “The hangar doors do not open.”
“I don’t think we need them,” Kay said as she engaged the DS’s thrusters, lifting it off the hangar floor. “There’s enough space in that hole for us to get through.”
“Gonna be tight,” Chann said.
“Don’t,” Kay snapped, turning her head so she could lock eyes with Nordanski.
“What? I wasn’t going to say a thing,” Nordanski replied, the smirk on his face expressing the opposite of his statement.
“Hold on,” Kay said as she maneuvered the DS over the gaping hole in the hangar floor. “This could be rocky.”
Kay flew the DS through the hole and out into open space. She dipped the nose so the ship pointed directly at the yellow and orange orb.
No one said a word as she engaged the engines and sent them diving into the planet’s atmosphere.
5
The Marines quickly found out that the yellow was from the clouds that encircled the planet and the orange was the landmass that lay below them. There was no water in sight.
“You’re sure?” Nordanski asked. “Sensors could be messed up.”
“The sensors are calibrated correctly,” the AI replied. “I have conducted an extensive scan of the planet, and there are no bodies of water anywhere on the surface.”
“Underground aquifers, maybe?” Chann asked.
“Let’s hope so,” Ma’ha said. “Or this trip is going to get very uncomfortable in a few hours. We only have so much water onboard.”
“Once we land, I will engage atmospheric processors so that the ship will filter out any ambient moisture from the air,” the AI said.
“What about these clouds?” Chann asked as the drop ship cut through yet another thick bank. “Yellow isn’t the color you want clouds to be.”
“It is merely a pigment from the earth,” the AI said. “They are typical clouds made up of water particles. Although, I will say they are frozen at a temperature below most clouds on Class II planets.”
“Surface temp?” Chann asked.
“Negative two degrees Celsius,” the AI said.
“It’s freezing down there? Great,” Nordanski said. “I was expecting it to be hot. Look at it. Looks hot to me.”
“That is simply an illusion due to the pigment of the soil,” the AI said.
“How close are we?” Kay asked Ma’ha. “Do you have the last known coordinates of the transponder?”
“Yeah, but you aren’t going to like it,” Ma’ha said. “I sure as shit don’t.”
“Oh, oh, let me guess,” Nordanski said. “We’re on the wrong side of the planet, right?”
“You guessed it,” Ma’ha said. “Way to be right for once.”
“Yet I don’t feel good about it knowing we have half a planet to cover before we get to our target location,” Nordanski said. He stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, folding his hands over his abdomen. “Wake me when we’re close.”
“Will do,” Ma’ha said. The Gwreq glanced over his shoulder at Chann. “You should catch some shut eye too.”
“Nah,” Chann said. “Too wound up. Gonna watch the landscape for a bit.”
“That should put you to sleep,” Kay said. “Look at this place. It’s just orange sand. Have you ever seen anything like this?”
“Once,” Chann said. “When I visited Earth.”
“Why the hell would you visit that shithole of a waste dump?” Ma’ha asked. “You’re lucky you didn’t die of radiation poisoning.”
“Came close,” Chann said. “I was just a kid and with my uncle. He was a scrap dealer and thought Earth would have plenty of scrap to salvage since no one ever wanted to set foot on the planet.”
“You never told me your uncle is a scrap dealer,” Kay said.
“Was a scrap dealer,” Chann corrected. “He died a few years back of some aggressive cancer the docs couldn’t diagnose. Not even the AIs could crack it.”
“Why would he tell you about his uncle?” Ma’ha asked, looking from Kay to Chann and back to Kay.
“What?” Kay asked. “Why wouldn’t he? Can’t Marines talk about their families with each other?”
“We’ve never talked about our families with each other,” Ma’ha said. “So why would Chann talk to you about his?”
“I guess I am lucky I didn’t die from visiting Earth,” Chann said, steering the subject back to his story. “My
uncle probably got sick because of all the visits he made to that hell planet.”
“This is a hell planet,” Kay said, pointing at the view screen. “Not even mountains. Just dirt and more dirt.”
“Preliminary scans show the soil to be made up of mostly orange calcite, suggesting that this planet once had a very active geothermal water source,” the AI said. “That would explain the atmospheric density of the clouds when there are no visual sources of water.”
“Are you saying we just flew through prehistoric steam from some ancient hot springs?” Ma’ha asked.
“In a way,” the AI said. “I would not put it like that, but if it helps you to comprehend the environment you are entering, then yes.”
“Was I just called dumb?” Ma’ha asked. He glanced over at Kay. “I think the AI is saying I’m dumb.”
“Far from it,” the AI responded. “I was merely agreeing with your overly simplistic view of the complex nature of this planet.”
“It called you dumb,” Chann said and chuckled.
“I will withhold future comments for fear they will be likewise misconstrued,” the AI said.
“Good one,” Kay snapped. “Now you’ve pissed off the AI. I need it to help us figure out where to land. Things are about to get dark.”
“Huh?” Chann asked then saw the strip of deep blue on the horizon. “Oh.”
“This side is facing the system’s star,” Kay said. “The other side, the side we want, is not. We’re flying into the night.”
“I can see that,” Chann said.
He looked at Nordanski, but the man was fast asleep, his breath fogging up the inside of his faceplate. Despite his earlier statement, Chann stretched out and closed his own eyes. No point in staying awake if the landing zone was going to be shrouded in darkness anyway. In seconds, he was out as well.
***
Chann came awake instantly and went for his carbine. He patted at his side then looked up into the barely lit, and smiling, face of Kay. She held her H16 in one hand and his in the other.
“We’re here,” Kay said. “Wake up and get your shit ready.”
Chann held out his hand and Kay gave him his carbine as she moved over and kicked Nordanski’s boot, waking the man up as fast as she’d woken Chann. Nordanski didn’t go for his weapon, his face showing he was fully aware of his surroundings.