When Stars Fall (The Star Scout Saga Book 4)

by GARY DARBY

  Alena cocked her head to one side as she gazed at the panel readouts. “Yes, and they might have even slowed down a bit.”

  She glanced over at Dason to ask, “Do we play hide’n seek or go straight through?”

  “Straight through,” Dason answered emphatically. “It’s the only way the plan works.”

  Sighing, she said, “I have to admit, you’ve come up with some wild ideas in the past, but this might be the big daddy of them all.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dason replied. “Are they hanging back or still closing?”

  After studying her sensor readings for several moments, Alena replied, “Uh, still closing, but they’re not trying real hard to catch up. I think they’re waiting until we’re in the clear before they jump us.”

  Dason smiled to himself and muttered, “As I said, they don’t want to shoot at us in here.”

  “If what you described is accurate,” Alena answered in a high voice, “I don’t want them to shoot at us in here, either.”

  Dason turned on his communicator. “Thorne to Marrel.”

  “Go ahead,” Jadar replied.

  “The Mongans trailed us into the cloud, stand by to shoot.”

  “Soon as you’re clear, we’ll fire,” Jadar replied.

  “Understood,” Dason replied and signed off.

  Dason felt Alena turn toward him but he didn’t let his eyes meet hers. “You didn’t tell him that they’ll practically be on top of us when we clear the cloud,” she said accusingly.

  Dason took a deep breath and conceded, “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why?” Alena asked bluntly. She stared at him for a second and then her eyes widened in sudden understanding. “You’re afraid that he won’t take the shot.”

  Dason turned to her with a direct stare, never blinking. “Could you?”

  Alena opened her mouth and then closed it. She gazed out at the dark ether for a long moment. “No, I’m not sure I could.”

  “Exactly,” Dason answered. ”But he’s got to pull the trigger, it’s the one chance any of us has.”

  Neither spoke for several minutes until Dason asked, “Time to intercept?”

  Alena shook her head in reply. “They’re only a few seconds behind.” She bit down on her lower lip. “We’re not going to make it, are we?”

  “No,” Dason replied. “We’re too far from the cloud edge.” He inhaled, let it out in a soft breath. “There is one thing we can do, though.”

  He glanced over at her and pronounced flatly, “We can take our own shot.”

  Alena met his frank stare, then closed her eyes, squeezed them tight before she opened them. “I’d rather go down fighting and take one or two of them with us if we can, than just sit by and get blown out of the sky.”

  She cocked her head toward the ship’s rear. “Should we tell them?”

  “No,” Dason answered softly.

  He pivoted the Zephyr until he had the nose pointed at the pursuing Mongans. He began to reach over to the weapon's control board to fire the ion cannon, but Alena reached out and placed her hand on his to stop him. “I’ll do it, it’s my responsibility.”

  Dason brought his hand back and gave her a little nod. “It’s been a privilege serving with you, Lieutenant Alena Romer.”

  “The privilege has been mine, Star Scout Dason Thorne,” she replied.

  She held her hand over the fire control button, hesitated, and then pressed the tab.

  Instantly, the cannon fired off an ion pulse. The compacted sphere of pure energy shot outward, a bright white-hot star. It sped toward the nearest Mongan cruiser and burst against its side.

  The sun-hot fireball erupted outward and seconds later, the whole cloud exploded in a blinding flash of supercompressed gas and heat.

  Gripping the chair’s armrests tightly, Dason watched wide-eyed as the shock wave’s boiling inferno sped straight at the little ship. Like a massive sledgehammer, the pressure wave slammed into the Zephyr, sending it spinning wildly through space.

  Dason’s last fleeting thought was the satisfaction of seeing the Mongan ship being torn apart in the gas cloud that had now become the devil’s churning cauldron of fire and destruction.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Star date: 2443.098

  Beyond the Helix Nebula

  Stars streaked past the Zephyr’s window as if a group of children were outside the ship waving fireworks sparklers back and forth in a night sky. Dazed, and with blurred vision, it took Dason some time to realize that his ship was spinning out of control.

  His fuzzy brain told him that he had to do something, but what?

  From far away, someone yelled, “Dason!” He managed to turn his head to the side, and his vision cleared enough for him to see Alena shouting full-throated at him.

  Blood streamed down one side of her head and her eyes held intense pain. “Artificial gravity and the inertial stabilizers are out,” she gasped. “I can’t reset them from my side, you’ve got to!”

  Dason roused himself and peered at the control panel. Red lights from a dozen or more peewee bulbs blinked across the control board affirming that the Zephyr had sustained severe damage.

  Pieces of metal fragments floated above his head and the smell of burnt wiring wafted in the air.

  On Alena’s side, the board was a mess of exposed circuitry and nano-wiring. Somehow, when the explosion ripped into the ship, blunt force must have cleaved a panel portion off, spraying Alena with chunks of metal.

  That they still held pressure and weren’t breathing vacuum was a miracle in itself.

  Dason’s side was not as damaged, and it appeared that his controls were intact. Fighting against the centrifugal forces caused by the whirling ship, Dason clawed his fingers across the panel until he found the controls for the ship’s guidance and inertial systems.

  He found the circuitry for the stabilizers and activated the switch. Nothing happened. He tried again, with the same result. “The main’s out,” he gasped. “Have to go to the alternate.”

  His fingers slid over to the secondary systems, found the proper inset button, and pressed. There was a muted rumbling from the ship’s aft section, and the ship began to right itself.

  Dason felt himself being pushed into his seat as the artificial gravity system came back online. Satisfied that the ship was holding together in one piece for now, Dason turned to Alena. “How bad are you hurt?”

  “I’ll live,” she replied. “I can take care of myself, you’d better check on the others.”

  Dason heaved himself out of his chair and made his way into the passenger pod. Shanon and Nase were tending to a shaken and gasping Doctor Baier. Dason hurried over. “Is he hurt?”

  In answer, Baier raised a hand and wheezed out, “Just need to catch my breath. That was quite a ride."

  Inhaling deeply, he muttered, “When you promised that I might be going in harm’s way, you weren’t kidding were you?”

  Dason gave the doctor a crooked smile. “We scouts try to keep our promises. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Baier nodded at him. “Yes, but you’re not. You’ve got some blood on you.”

  “Not mine,” Dason answered. “Alena’s. A piece of the control board sheared off and hit her in the head. She’s bleeding some, but otherwise okay. I’ll send her back for you to check.”

  He glanced from Shanon to Nase and asked, “You two, okay?”

  “Other than losing my lunch while we played whirly-bug, I’m okay,” Shanon replied. Nase gave a quick nod indicating that he was all right, too.

  “Good,” Dason said. “Shanon, check on TJ and Sami. Nase, I need you up front with me.”

  Dason turned and made his way back to the navigation pod. “Alena,” he ordered, “go have the doctor check you out, that was a pretty nasty blow you took to the head.”

  “I will, but it might not matter,” she answered. “You had better take a look at this.”

  Dason leaned over to look at where
she pointed. “Uh oh,” he let out in a groan, “that’s trouble.”

  He reached over to help her out of her chair. “Go get tended to while Nase and I check this out.”

  Grudgingly, Alena gave up her chair to Nase while Dason slid back into the pilot’s seat. Quickly the two young scouts ran shipboard diagnostics, poring over what worked on the ship and what didn’t.

  More so, what their shipboard sensors were telling them about their nucleonic engine, which was beginning to look extremely dangerous for all of them.

  Shanon stuck her head into the pilot pod. “Sami and TJ got shaken up pretty bad, but they’re okay. What’s our status here?”

  Dason and Nase exchanged meaningful glances. “We’ve got an issue,” Dason replied. “I need for you and Alena to break out the p-suits. Tell TJ, Sami, and the doctor if he’s back there to move forward, away from the ship’s aft section.”

  Dason glanced up at Shanon, who returned his look with raised eyebrows and a questioning expression. “We’ve lost containment on the nucleonic engine core,” Dason explained.

  “We think that something must have come loose while we were out of control and hit one of the flow tubes because the radiation levels are spiking in the engine compartment.

  “And if that weren’t enough, the bulkhead between the engine compartment and us has buckled.” He nodded at her little gasp. “Yeah, we’ve got radiation leaking into the ship.”

  “How bad?”

  “We’re still in the safe zone because we’ve overpressurized the main compartment and venting it outside but we can’t keep that up for long.”

  “Is the core in meltdown?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” Dason replied. “But it’s not responding to any of the shutdown protocols, so we initiated manual jettison protocols, but that didn’t work either.”

  He gestured toward the main display on the panel. “If we can believe the compu readout, when we tried to jettison, the injection couplings retracted as they’re supposed to, but the explosive bolts didn’t fire off, and one of the stabilizer arms remained locked in place.”

  He gave her a dark look. “If we can’t get that arm to release and the bolts to blast the belly plating away, the core will—”

  “Become a runaway and go critical,” Shanon stated flatly. “How much time do we have?”

  “Not much. Nase and I are going to keep working on trying to get the core to shut down or jettison. In the meantime, you’d better get going, and make sure you give the doctor an extra-large suit.”

  A few minutes later, everyone stood in the passenger pod, p-suits lying nearby and listening to Dason explain their situation.

  “Nase and I managed to initiate a partial shutdown—” Dason began.

  “More like a slowdown than a shutdown,” Nase commented.

  “Right,” Dason agreed. “Unfortunately, our workaround is a one-time deal and not a permanent solution. We’ve tried to find a fix to get the jettison controls to work, but they aren’t responding, so we can’t dump the core.

  “We lost close to ninety percent of our oxy reserves when the aft outer bulkhead collapsed and we’ve just about depleted the remainder. That means we’ll soon lose the ability to overpressurize.

  “Once that happens, the radiation levels inside the ship will soon spike into the lethal zone. Our n-space communicator is out and though we have short-range comms, no one has answered our hails.”

  He glanced around at their subdued faces. “If there is any good news in all of this it’s that the reactor core hasn’t gone critical yet. But, it’s obvious we can’t stay with the ship. So, the plan is simple; you six are going to take a little space walk.

  “Once you’re a safe distance from the ship, I’m going to use the remaining thrusters to propel the Zephyr away from you and then I’ll jettison. We’ve already set the communicator to broadcast an automated message giving our location and activated the search- and-save beacon.

  “Before you suit up, make sure your oxygen generator has adequate filters and chem canisters, your water is topped off, waste filtration is working, and you have full charges on your lith-batteries.”

  He gave a little smile. “Be sure you have an excellent selection of ration tubes and don’t let Sami hoard all the filet mignon.”

  “TJ, Shanon,” he ordered, “help Doctor Baier with his suit, will you? I don’t think this was part of his medical training.”

  For the next several minutes, the group did their checks as they suited up. As the team leader, Dason did a last-minute visual inspection of each suit. As he handed Nase a treated plycrene-rope, he gave everyone his final instructions.

  “Make sure your c-link is clamped tight to your suit. Once outside, Nase will rope everyone together and use his suit jet to boost you away. I’ll wait until I know everyone is lashed together before I engage the Zephyr’s thrusters.”

  He turned to Doctor Baier and asked, “Did they explain all the controls to you? Is your porta-lab sealed tight in the carrier? After they rescue us, Sami’s going to need what’s in that bag.”

  Baier gave a quick nod to Dason’s questions, but Dason noticed that the doctor was breathing a little heavier than normal.

  Dason squeezed the man’s arm gently. “Just breathe slow and easy, doctor, and follow Nase’s lead. It might get a little uncomfortable, but these suits are good for days.

  “I know—part of our training was to drift for two days between Earth and Luna. The accommodations weren’t all that hot, but the view more than made up for that.”

  “You think it’ll take us that long to be rescued?” Baier asked.

  “Probably not,” Dason answered. “But I just want to make sure you know that your suit is very capable of sustaining life. In fact, it’s theoretically good for a lot longer than a few days.”

  Baier grunted in return. “Young man, you sound like a doctor trying to ease the conscience of a terminally ill patient. Thanks, but you’ve wasted your efforts. I get the picture.”

  He gave Baier a wan smile. “Just trying to help, doctor.”

  Dason turned back to the rest of the group. “Everyone set? All right, in the airlock by twos. Nase, you and the doctor first, TJ and Sami, then Alena and Shanon.”

  He let his eyes meet six pairs of anxious eyes, willing his to remain calm and resolute. “Good luck to us all. Scouts Out.”

  Nase and the doctor stepped into the airlock, and Dason bled off the pressure slowly to allow the two of them to check for leaks before stepping out into the full vacuum of the cosmos.

  Once the first two were out, TJ and Sami stepped inside, and Dason sealed the inner door. “It’s about this time I wish we had one of those Mongan matter transporters,” Alena remarked. “We could send ourselves to some nice, cushy tropical planet.”

  Shanon turned to Dason and mumbled, “I don’t think the doctor bought your guff about these suits. Last for days and days? Filet mignon? Don’t I wish?”

  Dason gave her a thin smile. “Just trying to give him something to think about other than the jump-off. You and I know the worst part of this will be treading vacuum with nothing around you for billions of kilometers. It doesn’t take long to wear on the psyche. We’ve experienced it; he hasn’t.”

  “Uh huh,” Shanon replied. “And, speaking of suits, I didn’t see you running procedural checks on yours.”

  Dason didn’t answer and turned to check the airlock readings. “They’re out, your turn,” he replied without meeting her eyes.

  Alena stepped into the cylinder, but Shanon held back and turned Dason around to face her. “Hey,” she said firmly, “you didn’t answer my question.”

  “That’s because you didn’t ask a question,” Dason stated. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of my suit. Now, quit giving me guff and get in the airlock.”

  Shanon hesitated for a moment, and then they were in each other’s arms, holding tight. “Remember,” he whispered, “all the time in the world.”

  “All the time in the
world,” she murmured back and then was inside the lock with Alena. Dason sealed the door behind her, waited a few seconds for them to adjust their helmets, and then bled the pressure off.

  He stepped over to the window to watch the two of them float over to join the others. A minute later came the soft glow from Nase’s suit thrusters.

  Nase hung onto the line as if he was playing a big fish. Then he tightened his hold and the lashed-together group began to drift away from the damaged Zephyr.

  Satisfied that the first part of his plan was working, Dason hurried to the pilot pod, and using his thrusters, sent the Zephyr slowly sailing away from his teammates.

  He shook his head with a rueful expression and strode back to the cargo hold to get the tools he would need.

  Shanon always seemed to know when he wasn't forthcoming or forthright. Next time, he would have to remember to send her out first so that she didn’t have a chance to question him.

  Of course, if he had blurted out what he was going to attempt, she would’ve howled and demanded that the team draw lots for the job or something as silly.

  There was no way he was going to let that happen. He was the team leader, this was his task and his alone.

  Once he had the proper tools, he ran a quick check on his suit, ignoring the water and food levels, as those wouldn’t matter if he succeeded and particularly if he didn’t.

  He turned off the ship’s artificial gravity, set his helmet in place, and floated to the airlock.

  Through his helmet communicator, he heard Shanon ask, “Dason, why haven’t you left the ship? Is there something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he replied. “I’m just coming out now.”

  He sealed the inner door, cycled out the remaining atmosphere, and opened the outer door. He pulled himself to the airlock opening and looked out.

  Off to one side lay the enormous gray-green bastion of clouds that marked the Helix Nebula. He glanced down and became transfixed by the sight of millions of stars, as if he were staring at a glittering carpet of light that he seemingly could walk across clear to the end of the universe.