Voyage of the Hayden (The Adventures of Christopher Slone Book 1)

by Donald Nicklas

  “Hayden, Sardac here, the enemy vessel is secured. All resistance has terminated.”

  “Thank you, Major. What is your casualty count? Your first two wounded arrived back safely.”

  “We have five dead in all and several more wounded. The rest of the force is operational and ammo levels are still good. We’re in front of a heavy metal door, which is magnetically sealed. As you can see from the feeds, there is nothing anywhere else in the ship like it. Something of value must be kept here.”

  “Major, any idea if there’s a docking collar on that ship. I want to shuttle over with Ms. Sinclair. She thinks that metal looks like the missing parts of the scout ships she was sent to rescue.”

  Sardac conferred with Captain Takeda. “Sir, Captain Takeda says there doesn’t appear to be an operational docking collar anywhere on the hull portions he observed and we also didn’t see any on the back of the vessel. Best we could suggest would be a suit transfer. You will need your suits in here anyway, no atmosphere.”

  “Very well, Major. We’re heading over.”

  Slone nodded to Alaya to come along and turned the con over to Commander Stueber. The commander ordered the ship secured from general quarters. Attempts were made to contact the mining base and these finally bore fruit, to the rejoicing of those hiding underground on the moon. Slone arrived with the bridge contingent of marines and Alaya. Dr. DeFleur also came along with some medics to tend the wounded and evacuate them. All wore hard vacuum space suits. They were quickly taken to the metal wall and the doctor was taken to the fake hangar deck where the wounded were located. Since this was the largest room in the ship, it automatically became the triage area.

  Alaya examined the wall and the metal door. “These are definitely from Sinclair scout ships. We put an identifier on all metal sections to help us find wrecks. Captain, do you see the small ‘S’ on the rivet top of the bulkhead? That’s for Sinclair.”

  “Yes I see it. We know what they were using the wrecks for then, they were mining them for metals. The ships were too small to use for building the ships but they must have felt this room needed them. How are we on getting in here?”

  The marine tech working on the door indicated that it would be open in a few seconds. It suddenly slid open to reveal an airlock and a second door entering the room beyond. The airlock could hold only five people so it was decided that Slone, Alaya, Sardac and 2 marines would enter, in case of a trap they would keep weapons out and ready. They entered the airlock and the door closed behind them automatically. Atmosphere began to hiss into the small chamber, but not the murky methane they usually encountered on the alien ships. One of the marines was the tech who had opened the door. He now took readings. “Sir, this is a normal oxygen atmosphere that is coming in here.”

  Before Slone could say anything, the inner door opened to reveal a control room devoid of furniture or occupants. The systems seemed automated. The atmosphere in the room was similar to Earth’s so it was felt safe to raise the helmet visors but keep them on for sudden use should they lose atmosphere.

  Slone looked around and saw what appeared to be a glass cylinder with wires going to each of the workstations. “Look around but don’t touch, unless you’re sure what it does. We stopped them from self destructing so let’s not do them the favor of pushing the wrong button.”

  “Captain, over here,” Sardac said.

  Slone walked over to the glass cylinder and inside he saw a sight that filled him with horror. There, at the bottom of the liquid in the cylinder and attached to the wires going to the consoles there was an unmistakable human brain. “Call the doctor in here immediately. Alaya, what do you make of this?”

  As she came over she could see what was in the cylinder and she could not help but shiver. This was a human brain attached to the workings of a ship. The deduction was clear. The brain is what controlled the actions of the vessel. There were no humans in the Andromeda galaxy, so the brain could only have come from one of her missing crews. She now knew that rescue was impossible.

  “This is disgusting. They are using my scout crews from the other ships as computers to run this mockery of a vessel.”

  “It’s safe to say the other ships we destroyed must have also had brains controlling them.”

  At this moment, the doctor came in and the horror on his face at seeing the brain in the cylinder was clear. He and the tech he brought along lifted the cylinder from its base. Just as they were about to remove the wires a voice came into the room. “Wait, do not disconnect me.”

  The horror that filled each person in the room could not be quantified, as the true meaning of what they were seeing sank in. The brain was not only alive, it was aware. Slone was the first to speak. “This is Captain Christopher Slone of the star cruiser Hayden. Do you know who you are and what happened to you?”

  “I was once William Hadley of the scout ship Adele working for the Sinclair Corporation. Now I am this ship and I killed it when the collision destroyed the override locks that keep me from destroying this abomination of myself and ending my torture. Tell the Sinclair Corp not to send any more ships to Andromeda. There is an evil there greater than we can imagine. I stayed to issue that warning, now I’ll stop the life support and leave this hell.”

  “Wait we have many more questions,” Slone yelled but to no avail. The consoles monitoring the ship began to fade out one by one. “Everyone close your helmets, in case life support goes out in here. Alaya did you know him?”

  “Yes he was the mining expert on the first scout ship ten years ago. This is beyond any horror I could ever imagine. They kept him alive for ten years. We need to destroy that wormhole if possible and prevent these aliens from coming here.”

  “All hands return to the Hayden. Time we headed home to see what condition they’re in.”

  All aboard the destroyer returned to the Hayden where yet another ceremony was held to fire the dead into space. In four hours, they were in orbit around the moon holding mining base 42-M537796731, also known as Purgatory by its inhabitants. Medical took the brain to see how it was connected to the ship, a technology that, even if humans had wanted to, they had no idea how to accomplish. It was odd to Slone and the others how aliens that could only reproduce a mockup of starships could achieve such a level of sophistication in human neuroscience. He could not help but feel the owner of the brain had left many questions unanswered in his desire to give his warning and commit suicide. He couldn’t blame him; he would have done the same. Slone rode down to the base in one of the Hayden’s three shuttles. His and the other two were filled with medics and engineers along with marines, in case any of the aliens landed on the moon to secure it. As they approached the surface, they began to see the damage and it was extensive. The base had been bombarded from orbit by missiles and cannon shot. The ground level and the first three underground levels were wrecked, and open to the vacuum of the moon surface. Some small areas of sparking in consoles were still visible, but the levels were dead and depressurized bodies were clearly visible in some areas. Communications were reestablished after the battle, and Slone already knew that the commander and several thousand others were dead. There was enough warning to move the civilians to the lower four levels along with all of the children. The marines and other able-bodied men manned the defenses, in case of a landing, but there were no surface to space weapons, since this was never considered an area of danger. The shuttles landed and the Hayden crew and marines went rapidly to survey the wreckage. All were wearing hard vacuum suits and they went to evaluated how well the remaining parts of the base were pressurized. They knew from communications that so far, all was well, but no one knew how long life support would work. The survivors were also very short of food and other supplies. In a few days, they will be in a very critical situation. Several engineers came up from below through a small airlock hatch designed for such emergencies. They reported to the Hayden engineering group the condition of the bulkheads and floor panels. They had managed to seal off most of th
e third underground level and all levels below down to the ninth were intact. Life support was not an issue, since the reactors were on the bottom level and these powered the station. The aliens had stopped bombarding the base when the dreadnought left and the survivors had established some rudimentary scans and communication. This allowed them to discover what was happening in near space and to communicate with the message pod in Morse code. They had seen the destroyers suddenly leave orbit and hoped that meant the Hayden had arrived but their jury-rigged sensors would not show anything past high orbit.

  Slone and Major Sardac swept the area with marines and Alaya tagged along. She had come down to the base as the representative of her family business, the owner of the base. The bodies scattered in the wreckage were her people and her family was responsible for them. Of all her family members, she took that responsibility seriously. Since she had chosen to stay in the field, she was not as isolated as her father and siblings. They sat in their expensive offices and condominiums, but she worked with the employees looking for mining spots and establishing bases. She had not established Purgatory, which was before her time, but she had visited it twice before to make sure it was running efficiently. She knew people like the ones whose shattered bodies lay strewn about and she could feel the pain of their loss more than her family would. To them, they were just payrolls on a ledger and replacements would be easy to come by; to her they were fathers, mothers, sons and daughters of someone in the galaxy, and she quietly wept for them when no one was looking.

  Horst Stravinsky came over with several of his senior engineers. “Ok Horst, what’s the word? Can we evacuate the lower levels?”

  “We can if we set up a temporary airlock on one of the sealed elevator shafts and bring them up that way. They can use the evacuation ladders and from there we can set up evacuation tunnels. The problem is where to put them. There are one thousand and eighty seven souls down there. Essential personnel are willing to stay to keep the base open, but I told them there was no reason to, since mining operations no longer existed. We can’t cram them all into the Hayden and they are safe here to await evacuation from the sector forces. The big problem is food. Most of their stores were in the upper floors as were most of the people. That’s why three quarters of the population died and most of what we have are women and children.”

  “That does present a problem. Let me think a sec.” Slone gave the problem some thought and realized there was still a mystery that could help matters. He activated the intercom in his helmet. “Slone to Hayden. Scan the system for any sign of the San Juan.” In all of the excitement of the battle and the subsequent need to rescue the base, he had all but forgotten about the other cruiser. He did know they had not picked up any identification codes. If she was in-system, she was dead in space with no power. Since evacuation was not an option, the Hayden would have to stay in the system and send message pods to the major systems for help with food. In the meantime, he intended to give what stores he could spare from his ship and hope relief got here before everyone ran out of food. Normally he would have left the system and brought back relief, but he could not as long as there was a chance more ships could come through the wormhole. Many of the adults had not eaten for a day, leaving the food for the children. Slone returned to the Hayden on the first evacuation shuttle. He arrived on the bridge and asked navigation for a report.

  “We have detected a derelict inside the orbit of the second planet. The central star is pulling it in. No identification codes, but it is not the ship we destroyed, that is still near the derelict ore hauler. Size and configuration suggests a cruiser. Must be the San Juan.”

  “Sparks, put me through to Major Sardac on the surface.”

  “Aye, sir.” There was a short pause. “I have the major.”

  “Major, take two squads of marines and one of the shuttles and go to a derelict, Navigation will send you the location. See if it’s the San Juan. Take a few engineers with you to see what kind of shape she’s in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The bridge armor was retracted and Slone could see the shuttle lift off from the moon. “Put up a tactical of the system.”

  The navigator complied and Slone could see the blip marked as the shuttle heading for a location marked as unknown vessel. An hour and a half went by as the shuttle approached the unknown vessel. The tactical map was replaced with a video feed that Major Sardac supplied so the bridge crew could see what they saw. The shuttle was approaching a star cruiser. The name on the bow indicated it was the San Juan. Shot and missile damage was evident and she was totally without power. The marines were armed and ready. The pilot brought the shuttle over to one of the hull breaches and the bridge was sealed, as the passenger compartment was depressurized to allow the suited marines to exit into the space between the ships. The door opened and the marines activated their small maneuvering rockets. They headed for the hull breach and entered. The interior was in shambles and partially dismembered and decompressed bodies were strewn around. One or two alien bodies were found, but for the most part, it was the hundreds of dead humans who now inhabited the ship. The area was cleared and the engineers went to work checking the status of the vessel. One engine was destroyed but the second one had gone out due to a cut fuel pipe on the outside of the vessel. This was quickly repaired and re-pressurized. All of the compartments of the vessel were opened by the boarding action, but once closed; only the hull-breached compartments were in vacuum. The engineers fired the repaired engine and electricity began to flow again. The backup batteries had run dry, preventing the temporary patches from staying in place. Once the power came back, the force fields reset and the breaches sealed. Soon the entire vessel was re-pressurized and the crew could take off their protective gear. The shuttle docked in the hangar and the pilot went up to the bridge. He was not rated as a navigator, but even a marine pilot could get the vessel underway and away from its death spiral into the star. A group of marines took places at the bridge stations with the Major sitting in the command chair. Communications were established with the Hayden.

  “The command chair looks good on you, Major.”

  “No thank you, Captain. I am quite happy leading marines. The San Juan is operational as long as we don’t have to take her into combat. There are no survivors of the attack. My men are putting all of the bodies on the starboard hangar deck. We have her underway and we should be transmitting a recognition code. Captain, we need a navigator. Request permission to send our shuttle over for one.”

  “I’ll have one of the night shift navigators come over. Send your shuttle back. I will send the navigator with another shuttle to decrease the wait time. This way you don’t have to wait for a round trip. Can you give me an indication of the food supplies on the vessel?”

  “One moment, sir.” Sardac communicated with one of her marine squads inventorying the ship. “Captain, the San Juan has a month’s supply of food aboard, as is standard. They never used any of it and the vacuum kept it from spoiling. We have refrigeration back up and running.”

  “Excellent, Major. We can feed the survivors then. When the navigator arrives, have the San Juan put into orbit around Purgatory.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The colony repairs continued at a slow pace. Approximately seven hours into the process, the damaged San Juan entered orbit. Major Sardac had held a brief ceremony for the dead and sent their bodies and body parts out of the hangar deck. They will be pulled into the star in time. The deck was now swabbed and clean of all combat residues as was the rest of the vessel. The marines had been busy during their flight time and Slone was proud of the caliber of his people. He took the shuttles from the San Juan aboard the Hayden, in case it would still be necessary to evacuate the colony. It would be a tight fit, but with two cruisers, an evacuation was now possible.

  “Captain, Major Sardac here. One of the San Juan shuttles is missing but there’s no evidence of any wreckage along our trip back. Tactical on the San Juan is a shambles but we were able t
o get one screen going and didn’t pick up any evidence she is still in-system or intact.”

  “Thank you, Major, carry on. Sparks, send out a message buoy transmitting the all clear on all frequencies and program it to visit each planet and moon in system.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Another three hours into the colony repairs and things were progressing nicely. The engineers on the ground had stabilized all of the weakened portions of the remains of the base and people were beginning to receive rations from the San Juan. Slone was not quite sure what to do next. He had replenished his ammunition and added additional ordinance from the stocks aboard the San Juan. The Hayden’s foodstuffs were also replenished. The nearest coreward base that could hold this number of refugees was three systems away. It would take at least 5 days to arrive there. The Hayden could take them along with a skeleton crew on the San Juan if she could be repaired and her sails were intact. Either way, the frontier would be undermanned and there was still the danger of more attacks. Slone was deciding his next step when the navigator interrupted.