The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace

by Wilson, T. D.

  Thielson nodded her head solemnly. “Yeah. I heard it was horrible. Those containment systems failed on the carbon monoxide and xenon gas tanks that fed the experimental terraforming system Epherium was working on.” She tried to shake Krieg again, but he didn’t move. “The air purification system couldn’t clear it fast enough. There was no way to get out, everyone suffocated.”

  Wells sat down on the side of the bed. “I know. My sister Isabella was at Trident station and was one of the first responders to reach Kendrick when the alert went out. She’s a trauma medic and was doing a six-month tour of some of the stations as part of her internship.” Wells sighed and rubbed her hands through her hair. “There were a lot of questions about why Epherium was running that system in the dome, but I never heard the whole story.”

  “I heard Epherium claimed the whole incident was sabotage by a rival corporation and that they were close to coming up with a meaningful system to terraform some of Jupiter’s moons.” Thielson said as she reclined Krieg’s limp form back in his chair and smacked him hard on the cheek. “If you ask me, I’d say it’s a whole bunch of corpy bunk to cover their ass.”

  “Isabella mentioned some of what was going on out there. All their plans were to go light atmosphere only, but even with the changes, the temperatures are too low. Epherium was still planning to build underground colony facilities to take advantage of water pockets and geothermal heat. No matter what they do, it still wouldn’t make it Earth-like,” Wells said as she picked up the empty bottle of whiskey and tossed into the trash container. “Has he ever done this before?”

  Thielson shook her head. “I’ve seen him drink after missions before, but never seen him passed out drunk.” She motioned toward the monitor and the recorded message. “What’s she saying? It’s all in German. I don’t speak a lick of it.”

  Thielson slowly backed Krieg and his chair away from the desk as Wells moved closer to hear. “Her dialect is Low German, probably Lower Saxony, but it’s pretty easy to understand her. Let me back it up to the beginning and replay it. It might have something important.” She typed a few commands at the terminal and the message restarted. Wells translated for Thielson as the girl began to speak.

  “Hi Harrison! It’s your baby sister Elsa calling. Sorry I hadn’t had a chance to get in touch with you before you left for your flight training. Things have been really busy here, but you will be glad to know that your investment has paid off. I have been accepted to the Manheim PhD program. I had an interview with one of the faculty today, and it sounds really exciting...”

  Thielson interrupted. “Okay, so it’s a letter to her big brother. Is there anything there that’s really juicy or is just the ‘hey bro, what’s kickin’ gig?”

  “Let me see,” Wells said as she accelerated the playback of the message. Wells continued to listen to the message and was able to follow even at the higher pace. She paused the message just before the end of its three minute span then reversed the last fifty seconds. “I might have something, but this all seems kind of personal. Should we really be listening to this?”

  Thielson and Wells shared a concerned look then glanced over at Krieg still passed out in the chair. They both agreed that the only way to really help him was to continue.

  Wells started the message again and noticed that Elsa’s face seemed a bit flushed. She was rubbing her hands almost as if she was nervous. “She says she met a guy. Aaron Trill. I think he’s a chemical engineer. Sounds pretty smart too.”

  Wells paused the recording again. “It looks like Lieutenant Krieg was the real big brother protective type.”

  Thielson rolled her eyes.

  Smiling, Wells turned back on the recording and continued to translate. “Hmm, it’s definitely serious. Looks like her boyfriend wanted her to go home early and meet his family. He’s also an Epherium employee and got her an interview with his company so they could work together.”

  After she finished translating, Wells sat back on the bed and exhaled slowly. “Wow.”

  “You ain’t kiddin’,” Thielson replied. “So now what? If we tell the flight boss he’s passed out drunk, he’ll be grounded and probably suspended. We can’t let that happen, not for this.”

  “I agree, Ensign, we can’t cover up what’s happened, but maybe...”

  “What?”

  “I have a friend in medical,” Wells explained. “She told me there’s a rash of cases of a new stomach virus going around. To contain it, they’ve restricted personnel infected to quarters and had special dietary meals sent in to keep up their electrolytes. It’s a mild bug and passes in about twenty-four hours. We could call this in as one of those.”

  “That’s awesome. Uh, ma’am? You think it’ll work?”

  Wells nodded. “I think it will deflect the issue for now, but I want to get him some help dealing with the loss of his sister. If we don’t do something, the problem may get worse.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Thielson acknowledged just as Krieg slid from his chair and slumped to the floor, hitting his head with a loud bump.

  Wells dropped to the floor and rolled Krieg onto her lap. She began to slowly move his hair back and forth to look for any signs of swelling. Finding only a small bump, she started to move him off her lap and onto the floor, when Krieg’s eyes slowly opened.

  “Well,” he said in a very slurred voice. “So this is what it’s like being dead.”

  “Why do you think that?” Wells replied with a smile, still stroking his hair with her hand.

  “Someone as pretty as you must be an angel, so I have to be in Heaven.” Krieg smiled at her then rolled onto his side and vomited across the bedroom floor.

  The stench was enough to make Wells gag, but she resisted the urge and smiled back at the man lying on the floor in a pool of alcohol and bile. “Nice to meet you too, Lieutenant.”

  EDF Armstrong

  Deep Space Route to Cygni

  Wednesday, January 22

  Earth Year 2155

  Just After Third Jump

  After the Armstrong completed its jump, Hood sat down in his chair patiently watching the status of the combat systems and launch of the fighter patrols. His people had it down like clockwork now, but it was still only preparation. Combat often reset the field when it came to a person’s reactions, and in space, the wrong one could be deadly.

  Hood waited for the all clear signal from Aldridge, but what he got made his heart rate spike.

  “Sir, I have a new contact, bearing two-six-zero by one-five. Range fifteen hundred kilometers,” the Armstrong’s Tactical Officer announced.

  “Get me best sensor visual and I want an ID on that vessel now!” Hood ordered. He turned toward the Communications Station and Lieutenant Wells. “Open a channel to the gunships and the fighters. Inform them of the contact and to be prepared to intercept any hostile craft.”

  “Aye, sir,” Wells responded and immediately opened new communications links to the Armstrong’s defensive screen.

  “Detailed sensor visual coming up now, sir,” Aldridge informed Hood. “Sensors ID it as a Cilik’ti heavy cruiser, but the signature is strange.” When the visual finally appeared on her and the Command Station monitors, she had her answer. The huge vessel had two large holes in her superstructure and a debris field spread around it nearly two kilometers in diameter. Aldridge checked her terminal. “She’s a derelict, sir. Sensors report massive damage to all areas and she has no power.”

  Several members of the crew on the Command Deck could see the ship clearly now on the Command Station monitor. Some stood and stared, not sure what to think. Hood recognized it immediately. There were only a few on board that had actually seen a real Cilik’ti vessel.

  Hood caught Wells’ attention. “Get Commander Sanchez and Major McGregor up here now, Lieutenant.” He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Ge
t back to your stations, everyone. We need to know everything we can about that ship.”

  The Command Deck heard their captain’s order and returned to their duty stations, while Hood walked over to Tactical.

  Aldridge looked over at her CO. “Sir, I’m not sure where that ship came from, but it’s definitely been here for some time.”

  Hood stared at her terminal screen for a moment. “How come our scans didn’t find it before we jumped?”

  “She’s too far beyond the beacon’s range. I’m not sure a direct band could have picked her up.”

  Hood spent the next few minutes looking at the rest of the data on the screen, until Sanchez and McGregor arrived on the Command Deck. Hood escorted them to the Command Station. “Gentlemen, we have an uninvited guest to our jump zone.”

  Sanchez was the first to respond when he saw the monitor’s image. “Cilik’ti cruiser. Looks chewed up.” He looked over at Hood. “Engines look intact and perhaps a docking bay. Do you think she is a remnant from the war, sir?”

  “Unknown, Commander,” Hood answered grimly. “Regardless, she presents a problem. Disabled as she may be, I worry that the Cilik’ti may still have sensors that could be monitoring the area. If we destroy her, they might detect it. Either way it’s not good.”

  “If they’re monitoring, they may have already picked up our jump,” Sanchez added. “I agree it’s not good, but I think if we leave her there and our mission is a success, other ships might get too close. Some civies might want to board it for souvenirs.” He shook his head. “The whole ship could be a trap.”

  Hood pondered Sanchez’s words when another voice chimed in from behind him.

  “A Cilik’ti cruiser. Looks pretty torn up,” Henry McCracken said.

  Hood didn’t even turn around. “Mr. McCracken, what are you doing on my Command Deck?”

  “Looking for you, Captain,” McCracken said almost stung by Hood’s tone. “We were supposed to have a meeting right after the jump to review the colonists’ protocols. When you didn’t come down, I asked the computer where you were and came to find you.”

  Hood had forgotten about the meeting and he certainly didn’t need to be reminded of it now. “Mr. McCracken, if you have guessed, we are a little busy at the moment. I’ll have my aide reschedule meeting when I’m free,” he said flatly, still not turning around. “Now, if you don’t mind, please return to your quarters. We have a situation.”

  McCracken squeezed past the hulking McGregor, who just scowled at him, and moved beside Hood. “With all due respect, Captain, I think I can help. We’ve always looked at salvaging intact Cilik’ti equipment and this is the most intact vessel we have found thus far. Who knows what we could learn from it?”

  Hood looked over at McCracken and shook his head. “It’s too risky.”

  “Captain, my company worked to develop hundreds of systems to fight the Cilik’ti. We studied everything we could get our hands on. If we leave it there, we could leave a valuable resource untapped.” McCracken sighed. “There’s been no evidence that the Cilik’ti have used any passive sensors to monitor our activity and we’ve never found any. At least send a team over to investigate. If there’s a threat, you can mark it as a quarantine zone and ensure everyone gives it a wide berth.”

  Hood thought about it for a moment. “Major McGregor, you’ve been silent during all of this. What’s your opinion? Can you get a team out there to scout it?”

  “Aye,” McGregor started. “I can send a three man recon team to scout it. We can give you a better assessment up close. I’d recommend using our new MACE units, sir. If there’s a problem, they would be the best to deal with it.”

  Hood turned to look at his XO who offered a supportive grin. “Very well, Major. Ready your team. I’ll have fighters provide cover.” He looked over at the Helm Station. “Helmsman, set a course for that ship.”

  The Armstrong’s engines fired up and the huge Dreadnaught closed the distance to the derelict cruiser. When the ship reached a distance of thirty kilometers from the cruiser, it stopped and a Marine assault shuttle exited the aft docking bay. Six fighters pulled in to escort the shuttle.

  Hood stood in front of Sanchez, McGregor and McCracken with arms crossed watching the shuttle approach the debris field. He called out to Aldridge, “Lieutenant, I want a tight scan on everything in that field and on that ship. Link our sensors’ readings with what the shuttle and Marines are feeding us. If something so much as twitches, I want to know about it.”

  “Linking them now, sir.”

  The fighters peeled away from their escort and the shuttle slowed as it entered the debris field. Armor plating and bits on this Cilik’ti vessel’s internal structure permeated the field, but the shuttle had little trouble navigating through it. The shuttle closed to within about thirty meters of the ship, banked toward the vessel’s aft section and proceeded slowly along the hull. The pilots activated the shuttle’s external lights and sent its camera feeds back to the Armstrong.

  The Marine team lead for the mission was Sergeant Toronaga and his voice came over the channel. “Watchtower, this is Recon 1. We can see a lot of battle damage along the hull. Strikes are consistent with rail-gun impacts. Can you confirm?”

  Hood and the others behind him watched the camera vid closely. The impacts along the armor plates were indicative of high velocity rounds. The shuttle’s camera looked into one of the larger holes in the superstructure. He couldn’t tell what caused the explosion, but it was near one of the damaged docking bays; possibly a secondary ordinance explosion.

  “Confirmed, Recon 1,” Hood said over the open channel. “We thought the same thing. Scans show severe damage to her jump drive. She could have tried to jump out from a fight during the war and the resulting failure could have sling shot her here.” He looked over at the sensor scans. “Recon 1, I want you to proceed to the docking bay aft of your position. It looks to be your best way inside.”

  “Roger that, Watchtower,” Toronaga responded. “We’re heading there now.”

  The assault shuttle arrived at the docking bay and pivoted so its loading ramp was facing the open bay. “Watchtower, we’ve arrived. The bay has some internal damage, so we can’t set down the shuttle, but my team can use our packs to get us inside.”

  “Proceed with caution, Recon 1,” Hood ordered. Things were going well so far, but he still didn’t like it. Derelict or not, it wasn’t like the Cilik’ti to leave ships or equipment lying around.

  Toronaga and his other two team members activated their MACE suit jet packs and one by one, they entered the docking bay. “Watchtower, I’m seeing a lot of drones still in the bay, most in carriages of some sort on the walls. There’s ordinance all over the deck. Whatever fight they were in, it must have been pretty chaotic.”

  “Roger that, Rover 1,” Hood said. “Mind the ordinance and see if you can find a path on one of the lower levels. Maybe you can get to their Engine rooms.”

  Toronaga and his team slowly made their way to the left side of the bay, where a large hallway led deeper into the ship.

  Something flashed on Aldridge’s panel. “Sir, I’m picking up a strange signal.”

  “Confirmed, sir. I’m getting it too,” Wells added. “It’s origin is remote and weak, sir. It’s not coming from the ship.”

  “Sir, I’m picking up movement in the bay,” Aldridge alerted Hood. “It’s not our team.”

  “Oh no,” Hood mouthed. “Rover 1, get out of their now. I repeat. Get out of there!”

  Toronaga ordered his team back to the shuttle. “Watchdog, I have drone movement in the bay. Correction, drones are free and live!” Sounds of gunfire from his MACE’s weapon consumed the channel.

  Hood looked back at Aldridge. “Get those fighters on station now, Lieutenant, and I want solutions on that cruiser!”

  Two of Toronaga’s
team leaped from the bay and onto the waiting assault shuttle’s boarding ramp. From the camera vid of the shuttle, Hood could see Toronaga retreating to the edge of the bay. An explosion erupted to his right and his MACE was thrown backward toward the shuttle. Toronaga turned, but his trajectory was low. With his free hand, he reached up and grabbed the ramp’s support arm. “Go, go, go!” he yelled to the pilots over the comm.

  The shuttle burst away from the Cilik’ti vessel just as several Cilik’ti fighter drones emerged. Toronaga twisted his body and fired more rounds from his weapon at the approaching drones, while his team struggled to bring him inside. His weapon fire was joined by the cannons of the assault shuttle. Two of the drones exploded, but more exited the bay firing wildly.

  Toronaga stopped firing and crawled onto the ramp, just as the shuttle swerved around a large piece of armor plating in the debris field. The shuttle was losing ground to the drones, but their particle blasts failed to score any hits and the drones lacked the typical attack patterns. The shuttle blasted clear of the field and cannon fire from the fighters decimated the first group of drones to reach the field’s edge.

  “All port side batteries open fire on the cruiser. Target that docking bay!” Hood shouted.

  The Armstrong’s rail guns launched a hail of projectiles toward the cruiser. Three of the rounds entered the exterior of the docking bay. Their sheer kinetic energy shredded the bay and parts of the ship around it. Secondary explosions soon began to erupt.

  “Sir, I’m reading massive explosions on multiple levels of the ship,” Aldridge said. “She’s breaking up.”

  “Is the shuttle back aboard?” Hood asked.

  “Yes, sir, and all remaining drones have been destroyed.”

  Hood could hear McCracken almost whimper. “No.”

  “Helm, return us to the beacon,” Hood ordered and walked over to McGregor. “Check on your people, Major.” Hood gave a hard look over at McCracken who stood passively watching the Cilik’ti vessel be consumed by the explosions tearing it apart. Hood felt the twinges of anger build up inside him. He shouldn’t have let McCracken influence his decision and it nearly cost the lives of more people under his command. He looked at McGregor, “They’re lucky to be alive.”