The Blunt End of the Service

by L. J. Simpson

  “Well, he can’t have just vanished into thin air,” said Chuck.

  “On this excuse for a space station it seems that anything is possible,” said a gruff voice from behind him. Commodore Jacks had arrived on the scene. He gazed around for a moment, a tired expression on his face. “Who found this mess?”

  “Us,” said Mike.

  “And who was the last person in here before that?” said Jacks.

  “According to the log, I was,” said Chuck. “Yesterday afternoon, 15:00 hours.”

  “And everything was in order then?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Chuck.

  “Are you certain?” said Jacks.

  “I can vouch for–” began Penny, but Jacks shut her up with a frigid stare. He stared at the empty space in the centre of the room.

  “Have any vessels left the station since then?” he said.

  “No, sir,” said Chuck, checking his data pad.

  “So we can assume that Hector is still on the station, can we not? Mr. Jacobs, do you think your men are capable of organizing a search or do I need to call in the regular forces?”

  Commander Jacobs bristled. “That won’t be necessary, Commodore. Chuck, I believe this is your area of expertise. Any ideas?” he said.

  Chuck thought for a moment. “Pings,” he said.

  “Pings?” said Jacks.

  “Yes, sir. Hector sends out pings to initiate communication with any local networks. If he’s still in the vicinity we should be able to pick up his signal.”

  Chuck thought that might be worth a ‘well done’ or a ‘good man’ but Jacks just gazed at him for a few seconds before saying in an exasperated voice, “Well, what are you waiting for, man? Get on with it!”

  The group doubled up to Ops where Chuck began a scan of the station.

  “Anything?” asked Jacobs.

  “Contact,” said Chuck. “Very weak, though. That can’t be it... wait a minute… Here we go, strong contact on bearing 175. It’s Hector.”

  “Bearing 175? That’s Alpha Section,” said Jacobs.

  “Sir,” said Shorty. “There’s a ship docked on that bearing. Airlock 8. The Magellan, a fast transport. And sir, it’s just called in asking for clearance to depart the station.”

  “Refuse clearance,” said Jacks. “Tell them to stand by.”

  “They’re insisting, sir. Saying something about avoiding an expected solar flare in Sector 25.”

  “Tell them the departure circuit is full.”

  “But we don’t have a departure circuit, sir.”

  “Damn it, man. Tell them one of their crew is still aboard the station. Tell them we’ve detected a problem with their engine mounts. Anything! Just keep them here for a few minutes while we get over there.”

  “Too late, sir. They’re severing umbilicals and casting off.”

  “Open me a channel,” said Jacks “Magellan, this is the station commander. You are not cleared to depart the station. Repeat, you are not cleared to depart.”

  “They’ve brought their engines on line, sir,” said Shorty. “They’re getting underway.”

  “Blast,” said Jacks.

  “Can’t we go after them?” said Jacobs.

  “In the Valiant?” said Shorty. “They’ll be out of the system before you’ve cleared the station.”

  “Can but try,” said Jacobs. “Chuck, can you track Hector from the Valiant?”

  “Probably,” said Chuck. “Need a co-pilot though. Penny?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Ninety seconds later Chuck and Penny were strapping themselves into the Valiant. Chuck slid open the plastic cover and punched the yellow ‘quick start’ button, a dozen systems simultaneously bursting into life. A row of green lights flashed up on the main console.

  “Ready to go,” said Penny.

  “Punch it,” said Chuck. “Maximum power.” Penny eased the Valiant away from the station and then opened the throttles. Old as she was the Valiant sped away from the station, the acceleration pushing Chuck and Penny back into their seats. But the Magellan was even faster; by the time the Valiant had cleared the station it already had a lead of several hundred kilometers and the lead was growing by the second.

  “Pity we don’t have that pulse cannon, sir,” said Penny. “Even from here I could make a mess of their tailpipes.”

  “All we’ve got is good intentions,” said Chuck. “Give it a few more minutes to confirm their course and we’ll turn back.”

  “Roger. I can’t keep her at full throttle for much longer anyway. We’re starting to overheat.” Chuck was about to tell Penny to back off the throttles when he noticed her staring intently at the radar readouts. “Sir, is it just me or do they seem to be slowing down?” she said.

  “Slowing down? Why would they do that?”

  “I don’t know, but yes, their speed is definitely dropping. Is the Magellan armed, sir? Do you think they’re turning round to make a fight of it?”

  “No, it’s unarmed… I think. Just a standard fast transport. Keep after her, Penny, but keep an eye on her – and watch that engine temperature too.” Chuck radioed Ops to check on the target which continued to bleed off speed. “Ops, do you have any visuals from when the Magellan was docked at the station? In particular, can you see any weapons ports?”

  “None that are apparent, Valiant. That’s not to say that there aren’t any though. How’s it looking now?”

  “We’re starting to make up ground,” said Penny. “At this rate we’ll catch up with her in about five minutes.”

  “The rate we’re burning up fuel we’ll have to break off before then,” said Chuck.

  “We could try and persuade them to stop,” said Penny.

  “How do you propose to do that? We’re unarmed. What do you plan to say? Stop, or will be forced to say ‘stop’ again?”

  “They don’t know we’re unarmed though, do they sir?”

  “Who knows? Maybe they do, and they’re just waiting for us to get close enough to blast us into little pieces.”

  “Do you mind if I try, sir?” said Penny. Chuck looked at her doubtfully.

  “Be my guest, but don’t blame me if it all goes wrong.”

  “Take the controls for a minute if you will, sir.” Once free from piloting the ship, Penny tapped a few buttons on the communications console and then spoke into her mike.

  “Transport Magellan, this is the gunship Valiant. You are ordered to cut power and prepare to be boarded. Be advised that should you fail to comply we are authorized to use deadly force. You have thirty seconds to respond. Valiant out.” Listening through his headphones, Chuck heard the message not in Penny’s normal dulcet tones, but in a stentorian, military voice.

  “Voice modifier,” said Penny. “Easy when you know how.” Seconds later a series of flashes appeared along the length of the Magellan.

  “Christ, they’re firing,” said Chuck, ducking his head and throwing the Valiant into a sharp turn.

  “Don’t think so, sir,” said Penny, craning her neck to look through the side widow. “Look!”

  As Chuck straightened their course he saw the cargo pod of the Magellan slowly drift free from the spine of the ship.

  “Explosive bolts,” said Chuck. “They’ve jettisoned the pod.” Then as they watched, the Magellan shimmered for a moment and then disappeared into super-space in a blaze of light.

  “They’ve jumped, sir. Damn. Thought we’d got them for a moment,” she said in disappointment.

  “Hang on a minute,” said Chuck. “I’m still reading the pings from Hector and they’re coming from that cargo pod.”

  “But why on earth did they leave him behind when they jumped into super-space?”

  “Search me. Must have had some kind of problem with the pod and that’s why they had to slow down. Either way, by luck or judgment it looks like we’ve got Hector back. Now that’s not a bad day’s work if you ask me.”

  “Better than that, now that you’re on active service it counts
as a successful mission. Might even give us a medal. A ‘Mentioned in Dispatches’ at least!”

  “Yes, and you know where they can pin the damned thing. That’s our job done anyway. Phoenix can send a shuttle and drag the thing back to the station.”

  “What?” said Penny. “And let them take all the credit? Let’s dock with the pod and finish the job ourselves.”

  “That pod’s spinning, if you hadn’t noticed. Don’t know about you but I don’t fancy trying to dock with a moving target.”

  “Leave it to me, sir,” said Penny. For the second time Chuck gave Penny his dubious look. “Trust me, sir. We practiced this kind of thing at the academy loads of times. Well, in the simulator, anyway. And the Valiant hasn’t any paint left to scratch, has she?”

  “No, but she still has a hull which might get punctured, and a valuable cargo, as in me.”

  “Please, sir. Let’s have a go!”

  Chuck fidgeted in his seat. Penny seemed confident – she always seemed confident – but this wasn’t a simulator and though she hadn’t let him down yet there was a first time for everything. That was the trouble with the young of today, all hormones and impetuosity. Chuck couldn’t care less who got the credit for rescuing Hector. He wasn’t interested in medals or commendations, though he had to admit that a few Brownie points wouldn’t do Penny any harm.

  “Take us in,” he said. Penny coasted up alongside the pod and with a few blasts of the thrusters began to match its rotation. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the hatch of the pod but from where Chuck was sitting the whole universe was rotating briskly in front of his eyes. He wasn’t prone to motion sickness but after thirty seconds of corkscrewing around the pod he thought it best to concentrate on the cockpit floor rather than the view outside.

  “Are we there yet?”

  “Almost,” said Penny. “Just a few more seconds… and… hard lock.” A gentle bump caused Chuck to risk a look out of the window. The stars were still cart-wheeling before his eyes but the cargo pod was stationary against the hull of the Valiant. Penny was already undoing her safety harness.

  “Shall we?” she said. Chuck shrugged himself out of his harness and led the way to the docking tunnel. A minute later they found themselves inside the cargo pod and with no artificial gravity they also found themselves weightless. Penny was quite obviously in her element, sailing effortlessly from one hand-hold to another with the style and grace of a ballerina. Chuck brought up the rear, careering along with little regard for technical merit and even less for presentation. It didn’t help that he was trying to control his movements with his right hand whilst holding the data pad in his left. Bracing himself between two freight containers he scanned the pod which, while fairly narrow, was about fifty meters long.

  “The signal’s coming from down the far end,” he said. Penny pushed off and floated straight along the central passageway which ran the length of the pod, a row of cargo containers on either side. Chuck followed as best he could, bouncing from one hard, immovable object to the next, missing most of the points he was aiming for. Near the far end of the pod he managed to catch hold of a cross-beam and stopped to check his data pad again. The signal was coming from his right and it was close.

  “Hector must be in one of these,” he said, pulling open the hatch of the nearest container and peering inside.

  “Any luck?” said Penny.

  “Only if you like spaghetti,” said Chuck. “It’s a consignment of Uncle Luigi’s oven ready meals.”

  “This one too,” said Penny, opening up the neighboring container. Chuck got the same result from the next one and was about to open another when Penny waved an arm at him.

  “Sir,” she said. “Exactly what does Hector look like?”

  “Same as he did before. Kind of cylindrical with a silvery-grey finish.”

  “I mean, if you removed him from his casing?”

  “Why, what have you got?” said Chuck, easing himself up to the container that Penny had just opened.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s electronic, though. Take a look.”

  “It’s certainly not Hector,” said Chuck, looking inside. “It’s… well, I’m not sure what it is, to be honest.” He took a flashlight from his pocket and shone the light inside. “That looks like a power cell, and there’s a bunch of relays, a switchboard… and there’s some writing over here. Can’t quite make it out. Tet… Tetra-something or other.”

  “It’s not Tetranox, is it?”

  “Might be. Yeah, I think it is. Why?”

  “Tetranox is a high grade explosive, sir.”

  “It’s a what?”

  “An explosive. Military grade – very high yield. I don’t suppose you can see anything that looks like a timer, can you?”

  “Now you mention it… You know… I think we should go. Yes, yes we should.”

  “How long?” said Penny.

  “Four minutes.” Penny stood quite still for a moment as she absorbed the news and then abruptly pushed off and shot back along the passageway, straight as an arrow. Chuck pushed off too and shot straight into the ceiling, knocking himself half senseless and gashing his forehead into the bargain. In a daze he flailed his arms in search of a handhold, but he searched in vain. As he turned head over heels he began to wonder how much of the four minutes – not to mention his life – might be left. Then a hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and he found himself propelled down the passageway.

  “Time to go, sir,” said Penny. In less than a minute they were through the docking tunnel and Penny closed the hatch behind them. Ignoring the automated ‘Please fasten you safety harness’ warning she wound up the throttles and the Valiant zoomed away from the pod. Regaining his senses Chuck switched on the rear view monitor just in time to see the cargo pod erupt in a brilliant flash. He was surprisingly calm considering his close escape.

  “Thanks, Pen,” he said. “I owe you one. I think you can kiss goodbye to that medal, though.”

  “Guess so, but never mind, sir. The mission wasn’t a complete failure.”

  “You think?” said Chuck.

  “No, look,” she said, holding up a couple of Uncle Luigi’s ready-made meals. “Which do you fancy, the Chicken Milano or the Bolognaise?”

  The Ops crew looked on in silence as Commodore Jacks read through Chuck’s report of the Magellan incident. Laying the papers on his desk he turned to face Chuck and Penny.

  “Anything else you can tell me?”

  “No, sir. Everything is in the report, just as it happened.”

  “Very well. There will have to be an investigation into the matter during which time the station will cease all operations. Until further notice we will be closed to all incoming traffic and all non-essential personnel will leave. As for the rest of you, you are all confined to the station until the investigation is concluded. An officer from the Fleet Legal Department will be arriving later today. He’ll be taking statements from all of you. Make yourselves available.”

  A few hours later Chuck found himself sitting across the desk from Lt. Downey, the legal officer assigned to the case. He looks rather young for a lawyer, thought Chuck.

  “Well Mr… Poulson,” said Lt. Downey, shuffling some papers. “I’ve read your account of the incident. Anything else you can add?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Chuck.

  “And the last time you saw the core was at 15:00 hours yesterday?”

  “Yes, that’s right. It’s in the report.”

  “And everything was normal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you notice anything suspicious? Something not as it should be?”

  “No.”

  “Any indication of tampering?”

  “No.”

  “Any evidence of forced entry?”

  “No.”

  “Did you notice any unauthorized personnel in the vicinity of the holding room?”

  “No.”

  “Any suspicious characters in other areas of the st
ation?”

  “No, I don’t believe so,” said Chuck, noticing that Lt. Downey was reading the questions from a card.

  “Do you have any theories as to how the robbery was carried out?”

  “Not really... professionals, I would have thought.”

  “Right… I see… Well, I think that will be all, Mr. Poulson. Thank you for your co-operation.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Chuck as he got up to leave. That was fairly painless, he thought. Two yes’s, five no’s and a don’t know. Could have been worse.

  It transpired that the other members of the Ops crew had much the same experience.

  “All over in five minutes,” said Archie.

  “Same here,” said Guns.

  “So nobody saw anything, nobody heard anything and nobody knows anything.”

  “That just about sums it up,” said Chuck.

  “Did you notice that he didn’t write anything down?” said Penny.

  “It would all be recorded, wouldn’t it?” said Guns.

  “I never noticed any recording device,” said Baz. “Might have hidden it under the desk, I suppose.”

  “They’re supposed to tell you if they are recording the interview,” said Penny. “But either way, you’d think he would have made some notes.”

  “Like what?” said Chuck.

  “Subject was behaving in a furtive and shifty manner,” suggested Ollie.

  “Sounds a bit like Shorty,” said Archie.

  “How about this one – Subject appeared dazed and disoriented.”

  “That would be Duke,” said Guns.

  “Subject was aggressive and belligerent.”

  “That’s Bill.”

  “Bollocks,” said Bill.

  “Subject had ‘guilty’ written all over his face. Wonder who that might be?” said Duke.

  “No idea,” said Chuck. “But don’t look at me.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Orbital One

  “Looks like we’ve got visitors, sir,” said Penny, tapping away at the main console in Ops. “A shuttle from Phoenix is inbound and requesting final approach for docking.”

  “Bring him in,” said Chuck. “Anyone we know?”

  “Don’t think so, sir. It’s the police.”